#he asks for some help with some (fairly basic but totally understandable if its his first time doing this specific thing) code

[severalowls]

The greatest cure to imposter syndrome is having to interact with a coworker who is even worse at everything but definitely gets paid more.

The only problem is then you replace imposter syndrome with becoming some kind of joker.

[dreamings-free]

all this noise from solos and larries and here's what i would ask..

even 5 years ago, may 2020, could any of these people even imagine where Louis is today? playing arenas and stadiums and festivals. and his clothing line. and his festival. a live stream. two documentaries. a number 1 album made to his liking and his taste.

all of this didnt happen out of thin air. nor did "fans" alone do it. larries on here famously say they dont like his music or go to his shows or support his movies. yet they are his loudest critics. so what the fuck right do you have to comment on his career?

the problem with these people is they cant help comparing him to others. and its their own insecurities that they cant help projecting on to Louis.

you( not you, the whining bitching rad yous) barely know 10% of his contraints and problems. his radio blacklisting is obvious. he himself said UK festivals are not an option for him. but thats what he is able to mention publicly. you dont even know the rest. these are not things his label or management can snap and disappear. he is succeeding inspite of all of these forces. and he is THRIVING.

he is fine. he is happy. let him live.

and if you can let go of your freak psycho controlling, find some joy in his happiness.

this, anon. so much this! this is what I'm talking about with (lack of) perspective. people coming into my inbox or writing their snidy little posts saying he isn't growing as an artist.. are you fucking kidding me? look at how far he's come since 2020, it's nothing short of amazing - which we've also heard numerous people in the industry (aka not tumblr keyboard warriors) say.

also none of these people ever keep in mind (or conveniently forget..) that it's been less than 5 years he's been out of his contracts with sony and syco. two of which was basically a stand-still due to covid. and yes everyone in the industry was hit by covid but sony's minimal campaign for walls didn't exactly give him anything to build on during the pandemic.

the problem as I see it not so much comparing him to others, but comparing him to artists he isn't comparable to; major label popstars who make tiktok music and fit pop radio and spotify playlists. louis' music isn't that.

and look it's fine if people aren't into the music, I mean I don't listen to harry's or niall's music like at all. taste is different. but if you don't like the music then why do you need to comment on his career choices, his clothes, how much he smokes.. move tf on, stan someone else. don't expect him to change to fit your taste or expectations.

also it's so damn obvious that a lot of people don't understand his music in terms of genre and heritage. and fair enough, not everyone is familiar with british rock music history or britpop or have any interest in it. but then stop pretending you know how to market that type of music or artist.

like when people entertain the idea of louis opening for oasis on their reunion tour and I'm just like.. lmao tell me you know nothing about the british music scene. he would never, at this point in his career. like don't get me wrong, from a genre pov he totally could but he's weighted down by his boyband-xfactor past. like people would throw things at him I'm not joking. the level of music snobbery surrounding bands like oasis.. he needs more time to build and solidify himself as an artist in this scene to earn the respect to be able to do something like that. and that's also what I'm fairly sure he meant when he said that "UK festivals are not an option for him" (is there a direct quote somewhere, I can't remember?). not an option yet. because he needs to - and wants to I believe - earn that respect as an artist from the UK audience before being put on those festival stages. it's unfair and it's stupid but it's a reality.. but he will get there, I know he will. he's already earned so much respect and industry cred from the kinda artist he should be grouped in with; bands who's played AFHF, the people he's writing with.. hell, half of oasis loves him! (noel does too he's just a hiding behind getting that free kitchen lmao). mark my words, he'll get there.

anyway whoa, this got long but you're so right; he is fine. he is happy. and he is THRIVING. let him live.

[pangaeaseas]

curious about slytherin hermione cuz its something you see everywhereeee so whats your take on it

so this was meant to be written for a dramione fest (this whole thing is really bringing back my cringe era...) so the plot of it was heavily depending on coming up with a way to make that work. Of course I then realized this was basically a full series rewrite and I would not be able to finish it for the deadline (hence the title of the doc being longfic I may never finish lol) and so the fic I actually wrote for the fest just...skipped to near the end. I determined Dramione was best done by making Hermione a Slytherin. Which is an idea i'm pretty down with in general! Hermione totally has the personality to be a Slytherin and throwing her in the deep end might make her go Full Slytherin.....but this wasn't meant to be Dark Hermione. So she makes friends with Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis who I headcanon as the non-racist Slytherins--she also probably has a decent relationship with Theo Nott. But the main focus of this was her relationship with Draco Malfoy: he bullied her, she somehow saved his life from the troll which got her a life debt from him, and she later used the life debt to blackmail him into spying on the Death Eaters, creating a spy ring under the code name of Hogwarts Chess Club. Yeahhhhhh.

Here are some snippets (the second one is set much later than the first):

“I’m Tracey Davis,” says the girl with long dark hair in a ponytail.

“Daphne Greengrass,” says the poised blonde girl quietly.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” says Hermione Granger, and this is, though they don’t know it, yet, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

They talk about books, first, because Hermione was reading and because books are always a fairly safe topic. They move on to what classes they’re excited for, and Hermione doesn’t notice yet that both Tracey and Daphne deftly steer the conversation away from their families. They play a game of chess, which Daphne wins. “You should join the Chess Club,” Hermione says.

They talk about houses, eventually. It is slowly dawning on Daphne that both of her new friends are of inferior blood status, and that she doesn’t care. “I have to be in Slytherin,” Daphne says, quietly.��

“Oh,” says Tracey, understanding. A bit wary, because she has grown up with her aunt taking her to Diagon Alley because her mother is too afraid after something that happened in the war, and she’d known Daphne’s last name because her mother and aunt both work for Greengrass Potions at low wages and with conditions so bad her aunt had lost an eye. She’d gone into the conversation with half a mind to help her mum and aunt, somehow, through this girl, and hadn’t expected to like her. “My mum was a Hufflepuff, and my aunt a Gryffindor, but my grandparents were both Ravenclaws. So I don’t know what house I want to be in.”

Daphne frowns. “You have family in different houses?”

“I don’t know what house I want to be in,” says Hermione. She can spot the subtext in Daphne and Tracey’s conversation, but can’t interpret it: an equation with too many variables. And it’s true.

They don’t talk about anything important, these girls. Not yet. They keep their secrets close to their chests. But it’s a start, a spark of something greater.

Hermione Granger wants to change the world. Hermione Granger has darkness in her, just ask Marietta Edgecombe or Rita Skeeter. This is true in any universe. In any universe, the Sorting Hat tells her but you would be great in Slytherin.

“Granger, Hermione!” calls Professor McGonagall, and Hermione leaves off frantically whispering Hogwarts: A History facts to a bemused Daphne to sit on the stool. It only takes four minutes, for her life to change. Four minutes and a book and a train compartment.

“Better be SLYTHERIN!”

There is not much applause, for a girl with an unknown name in the middle of the alphabet. Hermione tries not to be afraid. Later she will learn that fear is a weakness and a weapon both, but for now she is just a girl who could have been anything.

Hermione takes a seat by Tracey and moments later Daphne joins them, a quiet act of approval that will end up defining the next few years of their lives. But no one else talks to her. One girl even turns up her nose at Hermione and looks pointedly away.

“Malfoy, Draco,” is sorted with a brief brush of the hat against his head, Daphne explaining “His family is very rich and very influential, and we’re probably related somehow, but I’ve never met him because my mother hates his mother.”

“What’s a mudblood doing at the Slytherin table?” Malfoy says, sneering at Hermione, and her stomach twists hard. Now the averted gazes and pointed ignorance seems sinister.

“That’s an ugly word to use, Malfoy,” Tracey spits sarcastically. “Didn’t your parents teach you manners?”

“Who the fuck--” he says fuck like any other eleven-year-old boy who wants to seem cool and Hermione is bizarrely comforted--“are you?”

“Your worst nightmare,” says Tracey, squaring her shoulders. 

Malfoy stares at her blankly for a moment before flouncing off to sit as far away from Hermione as he can go.

Hermione feels the prick of tears at her eyes, but she’s already learning that snakes don’t let anyone see them cry. 

***

Halloween in Potions Malfoy threw something in her cauldron and it exploded, ruining the potion. “Maybe the Mudblood should leave the potioneering to the real wizards,” he hissed at her, quietly enough that Snape wouldn’t hear (as if that would matter).

And Hermione’s thin thread of everything’s-fine snapped. A fraying cord already, and it’s those words, juvenile as they are, that pushed her over the edge. She brushed off Daphne and Tracey’s concern, the stares of the Gryffindors, and ran to the nearest bathroom, one she knows the older girls don’t use, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. As soon as she could lock herself in a stall, she broke down.

It’s not like Malfoy hadn’t said or done worse- he’s hexed her in the common room even because she sat in his “spot” because apparently he had a magic-given right to that particular spot. But Hermione is tired of having to sit and take it, see Snape turn the other cheek, see most of the house ignore her at best and insult her ar worse. 

Later she will think this moment is when she becomes a warrior. In the moment, though, she is just exhausted. She cried so much her eyes ache with it, and it feels as if the tears are coming on their own, like she’s been hit with a Weeping Jinx again.

Then she heard a sound like an avalanche. A roaring of boulders. And a terrible smell, worse than the bathroom.

Her pulse sped up as if of its own accord. Every sense she had learned over the past two months was screaming, her head and heart pounding like drums. She peered out of the bathroom stall, and screamed.

“Hermione!” she heard. “Hermione? Are you in there?” And then, another scream.

Tracey and Daphne had come to save her. And now they would get themselves killed. Hermione thought blindly, panicking, and shot a Weeping Jinx at the troll. She’d made it angry, but it turned away from where Tracey and Daphne were standing. Tracey and Daphne and Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy is an arrogant little twit at eleven in any universe, but in every universe he is also not a killer. He heard Tracey and Daphne panic as they realize that Hermione went to the bathroom to cry and that’s where the troll is, and his stomach flipped over and over as he realized he’s the reason. 

He’ll be responsible for her death.

And suddenly just a mudblood flew out of his brain and his heart started to pound and in a quavering voice he told Greengrass “I’ll go with you.”

“How can I be sure you’re not trying to sabotage us?” Greengrass challenged him.

“I-I’ll make an Unbreakable Vow!”

“We’re first years,” said Greengrass contemptuously. 

“On the other hand, more cannon fodder is always helpful,” said Davis, considering.

Hermione thought she was hallucinating at first. That this was all just a dying dream. Until the troll roared loudly enough that if she was dreaming she’d have woken up. 

“Distract it!” Daphne yelled, and Tracey fired a Color Change Charm (...?) at the opposite side of the wall from Hermione. Malfoy fumbled with his wand until Daphne poked him, and he shot a weaker-looking charm to the same place as Tracey.

The troll turned away from Hermione, barrelling into the wall. It gave a scream of anger and grabbed the closest person--Malfoy.

Hermione didn’t think, just acted. She used the first spell she though of--a Levitation charm of all things-- and Malfoy was lifted out of the troll’s grip and into a heap on the floor. But she’d attracted its attention again. 

That was when a curse she didn’t recognize shot out of Malfoy’s wand and hit the troll, knocking it over like a tree in a bad storm.

And that was when the teachers arrived and packed all four of them off to the Slytherin Common Room.

“Where did you learn that spell,” Hermione said dully to Malfoy, still half in shock.

“My mother taught me. Look, Granger, I’m sorry.”

“Of course she did,” Daphne murmured.

“I don’t have to accept your apology,” said Hermione, Tracey nodding encouragingly.

“Fine,” said Malfoy. “But you have to accept the Life Debt.”

“What?” said Hermione.

“You saved me when I--” he swallowed.  “Drove you to that bathroom anyway. An act of mercy in place of justified revenge--that’s a Life Debt. When you save someone who doesn't deserve to be saved.”

“He’s right,” Daphne said, nodding.

[lesbianjunimo]

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?) 

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~” 

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams. 

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that. 

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way. 

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism. 

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?” 

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on. 

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be  careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process. 

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care. 

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet. 

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention. 

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram. 

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly. 

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

There are people who like Crowley. He finds it annoying, but there are.

The two old ladies a few flats below, for example. All he did was say "good morning" to them a few times on the stairs (he blames Aziraphale for getting him into bad habits) and use them as a dumping ground for disobedient pot plants (it's easier than killing them. He still doesn't know how something that technically doesn't have eyes is capable of looking at him like that) and suddenly he's "that nice Mr Crowley" and they keep trying to ply him with cups of tea and biscuits.

Often he takes them up on the offer, making the excuse that it's basically research by this point. Hell would be unstoppable when it came to tempting the unwary if they could just figure out how little old ladies always manage to get people to have a cup of tea.

Then there are the two men who live down the street who talked to him about his car one time. I mean, he probably should have tried to tempt them into envying it or something, but after spending most of his time with Aziraphale— who Does Not Understand about cars— it was easy to get sucked into a long conversation about old cars and how they don't make them like that any more and how good of a condition he's kept his in.

Now suddenly they're saying "hi" to him every time they pass and often he says it back automatically. Sometimes they'll ask him for his opinion on different models of car— it's a nightmare.

Even when he's on temptations, aside from the people he's actually trying to make like him— at least right up until the last moment, when they suddenly realise that they really don't like him all that much at all— if he's dealing with any sort of business, there are usually at least some people lower down who hate their bosses enough to appreciate this guy who is very obviously trying to make everything go as wrong as possible.

Crowley has been invited to parties. And drinks in the pub. And even, once, a coffee morning for some of the neighbourhood stay-at-home parents, complete with small children running around. And alright, some of these events were actually quite fun (the latter group keep nagging him to come back— it was the first time anybody managed to get the kids to stay quiet for the whole morning), but it's an embarassing thing to admit, even to yourself, and certainly he'd never tell anybody else about it.

By comparison, there are people who really dislike Aziraphale.

Customers mainly. Aziraphale can be fucking scary when it comes to customers. He's this weird, slightly intimidating old man who keeps insisting that you absolutely don't want to buy any of his precious books— and if you argue with him for too long, you'll soon find yourself back out on the street, the shop door bolted shut behind you, and with no memory of how you got there.

There are whole forums on rare book dealers' websites full of people hating on Crazy Old Mr Fell, who clearly has no respect for his collection (after all, if he did, he'd surely get that obvious mould infestation seen to, wouldn't he?) or any idea of the fact that at least half of it belongs in a fucking museum.

The local mob has its own, fairly obvious reasons, for hating Mr Fell— although considering what happened to the last few people they sent to try and 'do business' with him, they've decided that it's probably safer to hate him from a respectful distance.

There's also a subset of people who just find his old-fashioned language and failure to keep up with modern culture or technology very annoying. After all, if you don't know that Aziraphale actually did live through several previous centuries, his habit of calling bicycles "velocipedes" and all music that isn't classical "bebop" sounds utterly ridiculous. People assume that he's putting it on to sound quaint. (And, honestly, a good 40% of the time they're completely right.) Plus his insistence on spouting heavenly propaganda at every opportunity can make him come across as a tad too good to be true at times, which rubs some people up the wrong way.

(It really doesn't help that Aziraphale's ability to sense emotions means that he can tell when people take a dislike to him unfairly, and if he's feeling petty will frequently respond by upping the ante and deliberately coming up with more and more ludicrously old-fashioned phrases, while a certain demon— who has had this technique used against him often enough to recognise it on sight— struggles not to burst out laughing.)

Now, the interesting thing about this is that, since Aziraphale and Crowley live so close together, there are absolutely some places where these two populations (the people that like Crowley vs the people who hate Aziraphale) overlap.

Meaning that there are totally people who see the two of them eating at a local restaurant or driving somewhere together and wonder to themselves what on earth that nice Mr Crowley sees in that awful Mr Fell.

[bigskydreaming]

I will forever squint suspiciously at a fandom that overall makes a bigger deal out of Dick Grayson expressing he didn’t want to replace his father when he was still young and actively grieving than they do Tim Drake literally hiring an actor to be his fake uncle and saying no to Bruce’s first actual offer of adoption.

Like, if you can get on board with Timothy Drake-Wayne after that, because Tim changed his mind after he was further along in his grieving process, you can get on board with the idea that at some point after the age of ten or twelve Dick similarly changed his mind about thinking a second father would be an insult to his first father’s memory.

*Shrugs* I just don’t get how hard some people go to bat for the idea that Dick never wanted or needed someone he viewed as an actual parent at any point after he was eight. Because you can’t deny that whatever Dick has said about that in the comics, he’s NEVER made it nearly AS big a deal as most fans who cite it at all do. Like, when you run with the most extreme extrapolation of that but gloss right over Tim’s far more extensive efforts to keep Jack Drake the sole father figure in his memory at first, I feel like something else is going on there.

(And I’m not trying to turn this into a Tim vs Dick thing, btw, I’m honestly just using Tim’s story there as a benchmark for how a clearly parallel sentiment is overwhelmingly referenced in regards to just one character but not another. My issues with the way people engage with this particular idea in regards to Dick like, exists without Tim being in the equation at all. That was simply an example of the fact that there IS a discrepancy.)

But point being, as all roads in this particular direction of thought almost always seem to lead to Dick being slotted into some nebulous category separating him from the rest of his siblings, where he’s only partially Bruce’s kid but not FULLY, not like the others....I am the Wary. 

Because whatever the surface intentions behind that, it almost inevitably voids some of Bruce’s responsibility to him as a parent, while at the same time making it easier to heap parental or caregiver style responsibilities for the others on Dick. If Dick’s more like Bruce than he is like his siblings in the overall family dynamic, this not only lessens the need to show him on the receiving end of Bruce being a parental figure, it simultaneously heightens the urge to make him a parental figure to the others to pick up Bruce’s slack there, because they’re more partners than they are father and son, see. So why wouldn’t Dick pick up Bruce’s slack and help him out there, and why would he need Bruce to actually be fulfilling that very role with him instead?

All the things people are critical of Bruce for in his parenting with Dick aren’t quite as bad, right, when Dick’s not fully his son or doesn’t quite view Bruce as his father....its easier to reframe it as fights between colleagues. Or recast Dick’s estrangement from Bruce as not actually a failure on Bruce’s part to reach out and cement exactly what Dick meant to him every time Dick flat out says “I want to know what I mean to you, give a name to it, give me an explanation for why you made these choices that isn’t that you don’t want me because all I see when I look at those choices is you expressing you don’t want me.” 

Because if Dick doesn’t actually want that explanation ever, if Dick doesn’t actually want that rock-solid expression of Bruce putting a name to what he feels for Dick and what he views him as, then the arguments between Bruce and Dick in his late teenage years DO become two-sided. Its just them butting heads back then. Rather than what they actually WERE in the comics, which was Dick clearly expressing insecurities about his place in Bruce’s life and Bruce repeatedly letting him leave or outright telling him to leave without actually giving it to him.

(I’m not even talking about NTT #55 for once, I’m actually talking about when Dick went to Gotham after he found out about Jason being Robin now. And as the events of that issue get referenced a TON in fandom, its HIGHLY suspect that one specific part of that issue gets rewritten in particular: where its acted like it was Dick that stormed off in a huff there or Dick who didn’t want anything more than to confront Bruce about Robin. It really doesn’t get addressed enough IMO that yes, Bruce said outright that he did it because he missed Dick....and then two panels later, Bruce literally asks Dick to go now. Says I would like you to leave now. Bruce is the one who blew up and lost his temper, literally smashing something while Dick was just heated because he was understandably upset, while Bruce somehow made it like he was the one being hurt by Dick and asking for space from him. Yeah, he said I miss you, but he never DID anything with that and in fact just turned around two seconds later and drove Dick away again, like Holy Mixed Signals, Batman! Y’know? Like what exactly was Dick supposed to do with that? “Oh, so Bruce misses me, but also he didn’t want me there, like I was literally RIGHT THERE for the first time in seventeen months and he missed me so much that....he didn’t even ask me to stay for dinner? Or call or reach out to me afterwards? So....my conclusion is.....what, exactly?”)

Ultimately though, my big beef with the stuff about adoption or Dick not wanting to replace his father, its not even about those specifically. Its about that period when Bruce very visibly was NOT in Dick’s life....and that was BY BRUCE’S CHOICE. That is the thing that needs addressing in my book, and far too often goes unresolved. No matter what the particulars of Dick’s views or wants re: adoption, there is literally no confusion about the existence of comics where Dick is repeatedly the one to reach out to Bruce, at a point in his life where he no longer had any legal ties to Bruce whatsoever.....and clearly express in one way or another that he is there and willing to talk, that in fact he WANTS to talk about why Bruce doesn’t seem to want HIM, specifically. 

It was Dick who brought up the issue of Bruce adopting Jason but not him and asked WHY at that one issue with them at a party. It was Dick who returned to Gotham and asked Bruce WHY he made Jason Robin when he hadn’t wanted Dick to be Robin - (and for the record, NO version of events where Bruce is the one to make Jason Robin aligns with Dick voluntarily giving up Robin.....the one and only continuity in which Dick did that, HE made the choice to pass Robin on to Jason. Mixing and matching continuities specifically to make Dick unable to claim hurt or resentment for the identity he crafted for himself being given away to someone else without his approval because ‘he was the one who said he didn’t want it anymore’ is yet again, suspect, as it serves absolutely no purpose other than to lessen the hurt done to him and abdicate Bruce’s culpability in hurting him when he did that). 

It was Dick who returned to Gotham after Jason died with no intention but to express his condolences and share their grief, and it was Dick who returned to Gotham to check on Bruce after Tim said he was worried he was going to get himself killed, as well as again more longterm in order to help with Tim’s training.

And in each and EVERY one of those situations.....it was Bruce that ended those encounters, and ALWAYS without ever offering Dick any actual resolution or change in their dynamic. Despite Dick’s very presence in each of these being a very clear sign that Dick was unhappy with their estrangement and wanted a change to it or else he wouldn’t even be there, he would be off being comfortably estranged somewhere else and totally content with that.

THAT’S the bigger issue and always has been, I think. That no matter how else you parse it, Dick repeatedly looked for and asked for reassurances, some kind of actual TIES to Bruce, and that Bruce for whatever personal reasons of his own, repeatedly did not give....even when Dick walked him right up to the perfect opportunity to just fucking say “I would like you to come home more, I want you here, I want you as part of my family even though you’ve already aged out of our existing legal bond.”

Bruce still just WOULD NOT SAY IT. Dick was very clear about needing and wanting something from Bruce that Bruce DID NOT GIVE HIM. Bruce gave him basically nothing to work with in these encounters more often than not. 

(In the interest of not being disingenuous here, I do admit that at the party when Dick asked Bruce why he’d adopted Jason and not him, Bruce did give a fairly touching response about how by the time he thought Dick would be open to it, he thought that Dick was too old to actually want or need it anymore. BUT, problem is, even with that it does absolutely nothing to change or address how the very fact that Dick was expressing insecurity about this now meant that Dick WASN’T actually too old to want or need it. It was literally a smack in the face that Bruce’s conclusion was wrong and not actually about Dick’s wants. And Bruce knew this, even referenced it at later points when he threw it back in Dick’s face to accuse Dick of resenting Bruce adopting Jason and not him.....which is a clear indication that Bruce knew it was something Dick still wanted or else there would be no reason for resentment, and THAT is the issue there. That no matter what Bruce said at that party about his reasons for not adopting Dick sooner, that very conversation itself should have been reason enough for Bruce to rethink his stance then there....but he didn’t. Also he ended up adopting Dick like five years later soooooo.....if he could do it then when Dick was even older, that doesn’t work as a barrier for him not doing it then.)

And that’s the troubling part.....how many people try and make that period of their lives unclear with no other visible purpose than to make the fact that Bruce WOULD NOT OUTRIGHT CEMENT DICK AS FAMILY OR ASK HIM TO STAY, like.....less problematic.

And as I’ve said before and will no doubt say again.......that logic process bugs the hell out of me, because it ultimately tries to claim the responsibility for Dick’s unhappiness in this regard back then is at least as much his fault as Bruce’s. That it was some kind of fight between equals, or that it was something Dick initiated or that Bruce had no power to resolve on his own via just his own choices or gestures.

Because it wasn’t! That’s not remotely what all of that was! And like I’m also always saying, you don’t HAVE to stick with the canon by any means. You can literally rewrite things so Bruce adopts Dick before he’s eighteen and they never HAVE that period, you can rewrite things so that Bruce reaches out and ends that period early on by DOING THE WORK of being the parent in that situation, you can ‘fix that’ by any number of means......yet over and over we see that period of estrangement repeatedly upheld as a thing that exists in the history that fics and headcanons reference having happened......but with the only ACTUAL change from the comics being that its framed as though it was just growing pains or Dick being stubborn or a dozen other things that somehow keep coming back to Dick doing something wrong there instead of repeatedly standing in front of Bruce asking for him to clarify their relationship and Bruce changing the subject or asking him to leave.

Again. THAT’S the problem.

You want Good Parent Bruce Wayne? Then WRITE Good Parent Bruce Wayne. Don’t just write Stubborn Teenaged Asshole Dick Grayson who btw doesn’t even really want Bruce to be his parent so there’s absolutely nothing Bruce could have done to bridge that gap back then anyway. 

(As that’s an equally critical part of the equation here as well. See, since Dick DID clearly express a want for a clear connection to Bruce back then, acting like Dick never really wanted a second father is a super convenient way to write over the part where Dick spelled out for Bruce how to bridge the divide between them and make things good again.....by demonstrating an actual WANT to have Dick in his family!)

But writing Stubborn Teenage Asshole Dick Grayson Who Did This To Himself.....that is something entirely different from writing Good Parent Bruce Wayne. You haven’t actually done or said anything with BRUCE’S character by just making Dick the fall guy for every conflict between them as though they were just equals all along and there was never any kind of actual parent child relationship or even a DESIRE for there to be a parent child relationship. Where the responsibility for being the PARENT like, lands on the....y’know. Parent.

And for the record, I don’t think this issue is confined just to this period of the comics, I think rather that its kinda the point of origin of a very large recurring problem in Dick’s conflicts with other people.

Because like I said, it was abundantly clear that Dick was expressing a want to be acknowledged as family, or just flat out acknowledged by Bruce at all, during this time. And if people can somehow make THAT period into just his fault.....then of course it should be no surprise that they can make any conflict he’s part of into his fault. Its a freaking blueprint for doing just that! 

And that’s exactly why this pattern recurs so damn often with EXACTLY the same fanon beats......whatever role the other character plays even in initiating a conflict is shifted onto Dick and somehow made into his own proactive choice and not something he’s actually reacting to. Thus Dick does double duty as both the CAUSE of the conflict and the resulting EFFECT - aka how he reacted to that thing that originally, he did not actually cause or initiate. While meanwhile, the other character not only gets off scot free bearing no actual culpability....no, now since DICK is the one making all the actual choices in the conflict from start to finish, now the other character is actually his VICTIM in it as well.

And that’s just.....so....blegh.

[evakuality]

Matteo - Episode three

Social Media - There’s so much of it this week!  At the time, I only followed a couple of accounts and then only saw the rest when it was posted to the tag.  I think I’m grateful for that.  This is absolutely overwhelming, the sheer volume of things the characters were putting out.  But it’s also really nice that we get all this normal teenage life stuff.  It really does allow an immersive ‘this is real people doing real stuff’ feeling to everything.  Particularly people like Kiki and Sam who have little to do with the plot.  It keeps them real and alive through a season where they were a bit more sidelined (and I love that Matteo and David’s little trip later on keeps them alive in a way that doesn’t overpower Amira’s season - this is a really clever way for the producers to keep fan favourites active without having to shoehorn them into places where they don’t belong).  I am also a bit concerned about some of this though - how on earth did the boys not get in trouble for filming the dancing girls and posting it to social media?  At most schools I know that would have resulted in some serious discipline action.  However, the most fascinating thing about the social media is the party at the end of the episode.  Sara didn’t start posting much on her stuff until much later in the evening (the reason this post is so late is because I was waiting to watch through all the social media before I worked with it - and there was so much for so long that I was able to notice the patterns in it in a way I didn’t at the time) and then Leonie took over and it was interesting what she chose to show and how non-perfect it all was compared to what Sara was trying to do before she got really incapacitated.  I know it’s not technically part of this episode but the text string between the two of them the next day where Sara panics over how Matteo might take seeing her in such a sloppy drunken state is very telling.  She really really wants to put on a show to make sure he’s not turned off by her not being ‘perfect’ - again, this is all very subtly done but there’s a really strong push to show how much of what is put onto social media isn’t a real and true depiction of who we really are.  And of course that’s most important for Matteo himself.  He’s still very actively putting on a front and it’s only partly to try to cover for the fact that he’s interested in boys not girls.  He’s really not happy or at ease with pretty much any aspect of himself, but he’s also not really willing to show it to anyone.  Except David.  Which we’ll see as we go through the clips.

Clip one - Matteo’s shelf in the fridge is so sad!  Someone (a parent maybe?) should really be making sure he has food and is looking after himself.  We touched a bit last episode on food and nurturing and what we see here is Matteo very much not nurturing himself.  Even more so than Sara, he has no care for his own wellbeing.  Also he’s relying heavily on other people (Hans in this case) to do the heavy lifting for him.  It’s also a major contrast to the playful, if disgusting, sandwich he made with David.  Here it’s really just about putting something in to his body and there’s no thought for anything other than basic survival.  Which is, tbh, a good metaphor for Matteo’s approach to his life at this time.  The chat with Mia again veers close to things that are difficult for Matteo - he’s wearing David’s beanie, trying to get that bit of closeness to him, but then Mia starts asking awkward questions about why the kitchen was so terrible and what Matteo was up to and it’s all a bit tough.  Matteo tries again to deflect and lie to cover his tracks.  Which... is he ever going to learn?  This lying is forever getting him in hot water when he’s caught out.  Jonas even calls him out on it, basically saying ‘if you’re going to use me as an excuse then give me a heads up first’ showing that he has Matteo’s back, but is incapable of helping him if he won’t help himself.  At this point, of course, Matteo has closed off because there’s a lot he finds too hard to talk about but Jonas is already giving those hints that he’d be there for Matteo if only Matteo would let him be.  But at least Mia’s pushing serves one purpose - Matteo makes contact with David again and they manage to connect and get over the little hitch that David’s ditching caused.  Both are still hiding bits of themselves from each other (David more so obviously), but both are quite happy to make these connections and are comfortable with each other.  That David responds is so nice; it sets up the dynamic so different to the original and Matteo is much more secure in David’s friendship than Isak was with Even at this point just because of this.  Then of course Matteo does the gay test, and it’s clear he already knows but he’s just sort of trying to work through some things.  It leads to some of the things he says later that are quite unfortunate (both to the boys about the dance teacher in this episode and to Hans later about the ways to be gay), but I think there’s a genuine desire to figure out what gay might look like rather than any truly homophobic stuff.  societal expectations and stereotypes and our own internal biases mess with us big time!!

Clip two - There’s not a lot of difference with the dancing girls clip, but it’s nice to see David again and the interactions between him and Matteo are a lot more natural than with Isak and Even.  I guess because these two are in the same year, it’s much easier to pass off knowing each other and so Matteo really is a lot more casual than Isak ever was.  The tone of the ‘why does he have to be so gay’ is different here too - Matteo’s much more low key and subdued when he’s called out on ‘why do we insult gays’ and he’s apologising fairly quickly.  It really is much more obvious that he’s trying to work out what ‘gay’ is than trying to distance himself from the idea of being gay.  He has a lot of issues and a lot of stuff to work through but it’s entrenched in an entirely different way to the og even though the words are almost exactly the same.  The power of acting and body language!!  Of course, this makes sense for both characters too - Isak and Matteo have different experiences and different lives and so they each act in a way that makes sense for them.  I’m super impressed that the same conversation can look so different - both actors are very very good.

Clip three - This scene with Matteo and Sara works much better for me than the one with Isak and Emma.  But perhaps that’s because Sara is allowed to be much more of a rounded character rather than a plot device.  We can say all we like (and Leonie is so clearly right there with us) that Sara needs to wake up and see how badly Matteo is treating her, but the way this is developing makes it clear why she thinks and acts the way she does and we can have a lot of sympathy for her even while rolling our eyes at how obviously this is not working out.  This right here is the moment where Matteo really should have said ‘yeah sorry, this isn’t working for me’ but he chooses not to because he still wants that security of having ‘someone’ if the thing with David turns out the way he expects it to (eg, David and Leonie being a thing).  He wants the ability to hide and say ‘see, there was nothing there, I have a girlfriend so I’m not at all upset that David has one too’ and it’s shitty behaviour and it’s totally unfair to Sara, but at this point Matteo can’t see beyond his own needs.  Sara is very clearly not happy with the situation and she rightly feels sidelined and unappreciated but she is still willing to accept his word when she puts those words into his mouth.  She’s still invested in this fantasy in her head and she is carefully scripting it so that it goes the way she wants it to.  Like last week when she was talking over Matteo to avoid hearing anything he’s saying, here she’s literally telling him what to say to get the outcome she wants.  Leonie has quite obviously got a better handle on the situation, but Sara doesn’t want to hear it.  Sara, again bless her, is very open about what she wants and needs from a relationship and how she’s feeling.  She refuses to take Matteo’s very half-hearted attempt at sweet talking her at face value and demands some accountability.  But it’s the very nature of those demands that sets her doom.  She tells him what she needs and he gives it to her - only it’s a very pale and weak imitation of what she would really like.  He uses her communication skills to play her.

Clip four - I loathe how no-one takes Matteo’s wants and needs into account, pretty much ever.  He’s in such a rut of being used to just going with the flow that even when he tries to assert his own wants people straight up ignore him.  It’s sad that he allows Kiki etc to basically commandeer his home for their party but it’s very much in keeping with how everything else is going.  Last week, Kiki was super irritated because she had a picture of how things were going to go (they would have their event and Matteo would host it) and she couldn’t deal with things not being under her control.  I suspect that if Sara hadn’t been with them and hadn’t done the speaking for Matteo, he would have been bullied into doing what she wanted then too.  He clearly doesn't want to do this , but at least he uses it as a way to get closer to David.  ‘Well, this party idea sucks, but maybe I can get this guy I like there’ and so he goes right up to him and invites him.  While he’s quite checked out of significant parts of his life, when Matteo really wants something he’s not scared of going after it.  Of course, as we see in later events, this gets him in trouble at times.  But for right now it’s nice to see him taking some small control of his life.  This is only possible, of course, because he was able to connect with David fairly quickly after he left last week.  The fact that they are able to do this is testament to how easily they do understand each other and even while its awkward, this relationship doesn’t have the underlying tensions that the one with Sara does.  It’s awkward in a positive way.

Clip five - there’s lots going on in this one.  The studying and how little interest and engagement Matteo has with it.  The consequent stalking of David on Sara’s account, the flow over into looking for David’s favourite movie, and of course Hans and his intrusion into Matteo’s quiet space again and then his attempt at using grindr.  It’s a slow, fairly quiet clip and yet Matteo ends up doing a lot in it.  It shows again, I think, just how much he values his time by himself and how much it works for him to be allowed to do things at his own pace.  I’ve said before I really enjoy seeing the characters in their own environments being chill and just hanging with themselves.  It shows us a lot of how they are.  In this case, Matteo moves very quickly from the boredom of the studying to things he has more interest in.  Like David.  He’s restless and disengaged, using all of his tricks to try to distract himself (playing with plants etc) and then very quickly giving up on what he should do.  I like that we get these sorts of smaller, lower key indications of how much David means to him as well.  It’s not big grandiose expressions of interest, but he watches the movie because David likes it.  He can’t even let himself stare at the picture for too long because it feels like a huge admission (he literally breaks eye contact with it and looks away the way he often does with David himself).  It’s in these unguarded moments in his own space that we really see Matteo and he’s a mess, but he’s a mess who really does want connection and to find meaning with someone.  

Clip six - We all love this one, right?  It’s such a nice moment with David and their almost-kissing is very intense.  But there’s a lot going on before that that I also want to look at.  First, the way the boys call Matteo a ‘player’?????? how???? That’s his girlfriend?????  He is playing her and stringing her along when he shouldn’t, but he’s not playing the field which is generally what we mean when we say this sort of thing.  He has one girl and that one girl has made it pretty clear that he is hers.  In many ways Matteo would be better off if he was playing the field - then there’s no expectations and he gets a rep as a ladies man.  But this works better for him - he can sort of fall into it and follow along with it without having to put any effort in at all.  She literally speaks for him, even.  I have always found it fascinating how much Matteo keeps to himself in this clip.  He hugs the walls like they’re his home and Sara is out there in the middle and there’s such a disconnect between the way they’re both acting.  How would Matteo have coped with the expectations Sara outlines about sex had she not got so blind drunk she had to be taken home?  It seems like it would have led to something very awkward and maybe she’d have finally got the picture.

Laura's little visit to see Matteo is cute too.  Obviously she knows that David is interested and so she checks him out.  It’s a shame it’s interrupted by Hans who then monopolises Matteo, but she was quite deliberate in finding him and speaking with him and I love the sibling support.  David’s shirt he chooses to appeal to Matteo is hilarious too.  The thought process (and the discussions with Laura at home beforehand) must have been brilliant.  ‘I always wear black and am mysterious and aloof and cool, but to attract this boy I will wear a white shirt with a stupid picture on it’ - that it does attract Matteo just shows how attuned David is to his future boyfriend.  Maybe he’s stalking the instagrams too - the Matteo Monday and Florenzi Friday do suggest that this is something that might appeal to Matteo.  

Hans and Andi bother me too.  In much the same way that I dislike that Sara assumes that Matteo not wanting sex with her means he’s gay (like?  It’s okay not to want sex!!  It doesn’t say anything about your sexuality), I don’t like that Hans has talked about Matteo to Andi and allows him to be so forward and aggressively sexual with someone who is very obviously not willing to be out.  I know Hans is trying to be there for Matteo and to encourage him to accept himself (I think it’s pretty clear that he knows or thinks Matteo likes guys).  But this is a party with all of Matteo’s friends.  What did they think would happen?  Why did they think he’d react in any way other than the one he does?  Hans looks confused when Matteo pushes away and leaves, but why?  This behaviour is entirely consistent with everything we know of his character. That it ends in an actual panic attack makes it all much more sad and difficult to watch.  Honestly, outing people when they’re not ready is not cool and Hans should know this.

The panic attack itself is so well done.  There’s no dialogue and yet we can see very obviously how Matteo is feeling and just how ‘normal’ this is to him.  He has a set of behaviours that he follows to try to take the edge off.  He throws things (this is his go-to when he’s stressed and he does it a LOT), he tries weed and he finally tries music and sitting by himself, cuddling a cushion for comfort.  I know a million people have discussed this at length, but I don’t think we can speak about this clip without at least touching on it.  Everything about it is done so well and it all combines to allow Matteo’s feelings to shine through.  I love that it’s allowed to happen at a party and that we see very clearly how these things can be overwhelming for characters.  I won’t go on anymore, but it’s just great and the acting is so perfect.  I genuinely think this small part of this clip is probably my favourite acting out of everything in this show.

And then of course we have the stuff after everyone else has left.  Again, a million people have discussed this in a million ways, but I love how this scene again shows how easily they get each other, how good they are at communicating with each other and how quickly they get on the same page.  Matteo has no trouble at all saying what he thinks and pressing for information.  This parallels Sara in some ways - she is like this with Matteo, making her wants and needs clear and putting herself on the line.  Again, this is all very good set up for later on when Matteo finally finds himself in her position and realises just how much his behaviour hurt her because he’s living her side.  However, unlike Matteo, David is quite clear and honest back.  And that’s why they can so quickly move into a potential kiss.  As with Matteo and Sara, there are close ups as they lean into each other, but somehow it feels like there’s more space for them to breathe here.  The camera allows them both to be in the frame naturally, whether Sara is often invading into Matteo’s shots.  Here, they’re both on board and both want it.  I like that Matteo gets a moment to be open and himself after his experience with Andi.  It must take a lot of courage to do this after he was so badly affected earlier.  Testament to David’s calming presence which reassures rather than pushes, and how honest they are with each other - there’s no way David could miss how relieved Matteo is when he finds out that Laura is David’s sister not his girlfriend.  They’re both very brave here - David for telling Matteo he looks good and Matteo for trying to take that next step even after his panic attack.   And I think that’s a nice place to leave this.  Because that’s already such a lot and this has all already been said before.  

[vic-chaos]

I’m gonna reply to a couple of asks all in one go here just so I don’t fill people’s dashboards too much!!

(re: my recent post) Yeah this is a good point actually!! I forgot about Marjorine haha, it’s interesting that they liked him when they didn’t know it was him. Or well, they didn’t like him at first but they managed to reconcile and then have fun together. So maybe something like that could happen with regular Butters, for them to change their minds about him...

My favourite scene from awesom-o is Cartman eating toothpaste in the bathroom, even though its not a buttman moment its SO funny 😭😭😭 like it really is up there as one of the funniest moments in the whole show for me jdjgsdjfgjsdfgjdf

Also YESSS there’s so much otp fuel in that episode 🙏 I'm obsessed with how awesom-o sounds and acts exactly like Cartman, and Butters is instantly like "oh for some reason I love him more than anything in the world" pleaseeee....

But now that I’m thinking of their shippiest episodes....... it’s hard to pick just one bc there’s like 4 or 5 that are impossible to choose from lmao?? My personal fav buttman episode is actually let them eat goo, its kind of average/mediocre plot wise etc. but they behave like SUCH a married couple throughout the entire thing its legit just a buttman fluff fanfic lmao 😭 super fun time does come a very close second too though.

This is an interesting hc omg......... I think I like, semi-agree with you?? Stephen is definitely the kind of person who would be more relieved to see Butters having a friend than caring about what kind of person that friend was or whether they’re a good influence, which is probably why he hasn’t tried to stop him from spending so much time with Cartman lmao. He only seems to have a fairly surface level understanding of Butters’ life and his personality/friends/interests etc because he doesn’t really pay attention to much other than when he’s looking for random things to punish him for.

Stephen is also... hmm.... I want to say less homophobic than he’s usually characterised in fanon, but maybe its just in different ways?? For instance I don’t think he’d ever kick Butters out of the house or beat him up specifically for being gay, which are all things I see super commonly in fic. I can understand why people go for this so often bc of the drama it provides, but it just doesn’t feel so in character to me?

The most glaring example of homophobia from him is obviously sending Butters to that conversion camp, so I think his worst possible reaction would be something else along those lines again, eg. taking him to talk to someone from the church or whatever to try and 'help' him. But this also seems unlikely to me since he supposedly learned why he was wrong at the end of the ep. If I remember right he does scold Butters for “getting gay with his friend” in the ungroundable (the way its always Cartman he’s doing these things with jjdsfjsjdfsdfjsdf 😭) but its a much milder reaction in comparison.

My own hc is like..... since he’s developed as the show has gone on he cares a lot more about appearances now and he wants people in town and the other parents to think he’s progressive. So he would probably make a weird attempt at being accepting, but do it really badly because despite being gay/bi himself, the way he thinks about same sex attraction is still totally backwards. I think he would have a hard time taking the relationship “seriously”? Like, he’d be okay with Butters having a boyfriend but he’d act like it’s just a phase that he’s gonna move on from, and would still expect him to eventually settle down with some nice girl and have a typical nuclear family. To follow in his own footsteps basically.

I don’t know if millionaire (/money in general) would matter at all.... but I do agree with you in how his approval would be different when it was just a boyfriend vs. something as serious as wanting to get married.

Maybe he’d be able to understand and accept it in time, but I think there would definitely be loads of internal family tension and arguments over it. Plus Cartman has a bad temper and 0 patience for anybody, so they’d probably butt heads a lot. Semi-related but I still can’t believe they robbed us of that scene with the two of them arguing in the pandemic special trailer 😭 I’m so desperate to see some kind of conflict between them LMAO.... I love Stephen being genuinely scared for a second there jsdjfsjdfgjdfg

OK LAST ASK I’m so sorry to anyone still reading for how long this is getting, I just have so many thoughts ghsdjksd 😭

Jsksjdkskdks anon you are gonna get us both in trouble with all of those people who insist buttman is irredeemably problematic and evil, and the (entirely different people somehow?) who think you can't ship it unless you accept that it's inherently toxic otherwise you're just denying reality. "Reality" here being their subjective interpretation of the show of course lmao.

Personally - my own subjective interpretation here lmao - I genuinely don't see their current friendship in canon as toxic. I think they've reached a point of mutual trust and communication that's legit good for both of them, and I do think they absolutely have the potential to be in a healthy relationship (at least as much as is possible with Cartman) though they do have a deeply problematic and abusive past of course, I think it's developed past that point now.

I think buttman has a reputation as a generally kind of messed up relationship, which IS rightfully earned. But there's also like you said a surprising amount of sweetness to it that doesn't get acknowledged as often?? And yes to them always coming back to each other 🥺❤ I love how unexpectedly soft they can be with each other, especially like you said in comparison to how horrible the world of sp is, but also with how little of that kind of connection they both have elsewhere in their lives. In a lot of ways they’re two very traumatised kids helping each other heal, which is something I love exploring a lot.

And the fact that they’ve managed to come so far over the years too, and create something genuine out of their relationship the longer they spent together........ jsjdfskfds they may be a bit insane but they both found someone perfect for them.......

[demonologistfucker]

WIP Angel MC! x Obey Me pt 2

Part Two - The Museum date with Satan. This is just a ruff of what I got so far. I am enjoying this but i Haven’t had a lot of focus for writing. So I just wanna share what I got so far.

Step into the shoes of an intellectual. I know they are uncomfortable, but these are cushioned with a bias outside human prejudice. They have their own prejudices of course, it’s just not As silly as a humans…. Either way, it’s a different way of looking at history. There is no need to keep colonial powers looking refined and noble.

This museum is not full of anything Real. They are all magical replicas of artifacts long burned, brutalized and forgotten. While it could be enlightening to a great deal of humanity. The plaques mainly speak of the demons who worked along with those doing the burning. It left a rather sick feeling in the angel’s stomach. While showing off the great wonder that was ruined. People still boasted about causing the burning. 

Satan did a better job explaining the history. He was detached. Thinking about the matter as a history, and could talk about it easily. Yet when he turned to MC. They had tears in their eyes. Thinking of what it felt like to just be a people, and slaughtered for living. The Angel felt the reality. Both marveling at the people who could create such art and monuments, and the utter despair at how this art came to the Angel’s eyes. So Eventually the Angel started to tune out the world around them, and focused more on their guide. A stranger who was still linked arms with MC. 

“I have a question,” MC looks up into Satan’s eyes. 

“I might have an answer,” The corner of Satan’s mouth pulled into a sharp smile.

“Do you view angels and demons as enemies?” MC watches Satan’s face closely. His eyebrows shot up for only a second. A brief flash of surprise, and then quickly to thought. His gaze drifting upwards as he rolled the matter over in his mind. 

“I think about this a lot, actually,” Satan rubs his chin. “I’m unsure. We are certainly told that we are opposites, but if we looked at the data, I think we’d find something else.” Satan chews on the thought, “There is a whole research of study on whether good even exists, yet there is a realm that claims to obtain All Good. Or define what it is. Which is just ridiculous, and as you can see.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. “Demons are not raging beasts. Sin has its place in reality. Too much of it would be disastrous, true, but not enough would also be a problem.” Satan kept his gaze away from the Angel. Not truly wanting to see them get upset about his stance. 

“Can you give me an example?” MC tilts their head. “No one’s talked about sin like that before.”

“Well… Let’s use wrath. Wrath being deemed a sin which is reasonable at first. Being angry and destructive is not helpful. However, wrath has been brought out to protect children, or to fight for justice. Wrath without thought is bad, but it is not bad in itself.” Satan glances at MC to see their expression. Then stays when he sees that MC is thinking it over. 

“What matters is how it’s used.” MC says softly. To which Satan nods. “There are plenty of supposedly holy people who are really cruel to keep their virtues.” Now both MC and Satan are sharing a smile. “Some of those people really are the worst. They manage to live up to His standards and yet are still-” MC grits their teeth. 

“Bastards? Fuckers?” Satan tries to keep a helpful face, but can’t help the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“Yes!” MC shakes their head to let out some frustration. “Then they summon me to bring them to the bathhouse.” 

“You have to bring humans to bathhouses?”

“Where ever they want to go. It is their ‘paradise’ after all, and since I’m not a high ranking angel, so I’m basically supposed to care take for whatever human souls are around me.” 

“That sounds… Infuriating.” Satan says politely. He’s overjoyed to see the Angel seething with annoyance, but then something drowns it out. Their face falls and goes back to a placid expression. 

“It’s the duty of an angel.” MC’s voice is dryer than before. 

“Hmm…” Satan realizes he shouldn’t be staring at the Angel and looks back to whatever exhibit they had landed in front of. “Do you like your duties?”

“Do you like yours?” The Angel looks blankly ahead.

“Ours are very different. I simply Am the avatar. I can spend my days reading and be finishing my duty.”

“Really?” MC looks up in surprises. 

“Well, sorta of,” Satan chuckles. “I have RAD duties I can’t get out of, But that’s my choice in the end. I respect Diavolo enough to agree to his leadership, and RAD is his domain, so I do it for him.” Satan shrugs. “They don’t take up too much time for an immortal anyways.”

“That’s… so different from Heaven. I get maybe five hours to myself a day?” MC can’t even give an accurate number. Keeping track just makes it worse. “It’s all preselected work, too. We have no choice it what domains we’re put under.”

“No choice at all?”

“Supposedly it’s from the Divine plan,” MC rolls their eyes. “But I’m unsure of it.”

“No plan is ever perfect, let alone one made from one mind alone.” Even as Satan says this, he is prepared for a fight. His few conversations with angel’s before him had always ended in one. Angels devoted their existences to this divine plan. Critiquing it was a critique of everything they stood for. Instead, MC just nods. Their eyes overwhelmed in sadness. So Satan takes a deep breath and refocuses on the world around them. 

“It is amazing what humans are able to turn rocks into,” Satan looks at the old stone statue with amazement. 

“I’ve tried to do it before, and I can never manage.” MC tapped their chin as they reminisced. “They can make rock smooth, as if they were just pinching clay.”

“I can’t even work clay well.” Satan chuckles. Then there is silence as MC’s mind wanders down a bunny trail.

“Earlier they said that I would be attending school, is that true?” Satan nods. “Weird,” MC begins to laugh. 

“Why do you laugh? I will also be attending.” Satan says this even though he finds the whole school situation fairly fun himself. Still remembers the dinner when Lucifer broke the news that joining RAD also meant having to go through university again. They had completed their courses millennia ago. Satan was honestly a little excited. Brushing up his skills wouldn’t be the worst time. Though, all the other students sounded rather stressful.

“It will be curious. I didn’t expect to be introduced to Hell this way. It’s just… Okay, you’ll understand if I tell you how I imagine this, Exchange, would go in the Celestial realm.” Satan nods and leans back. Ready to listen. “Greeted with trumpets, obviously.” Satan rolls his eyes. “Then a personal conversation with It.” This makes Satan chuckle. “Then guided around the Celestial realm to all its numerous wonders. Shown the polished paradise where you can indulge in Nearly anything.” MC lifts a finger up with a crooked grin. “Though, you Can’t be a sinner, so you must be nice to Everyone you meet. No matter how annoying. If an Issue arises, you have to bring it up at court, and have it processed. It’s worse for angels, but guests wouldn’t see that. It would take months to see the court bit anyway. It would all be Sickly sweet.”

“And here you met a busy prince, told you had to go to school, and left to get eaten.” Satan keeps his head forward, but glances to see the angel’s reaction. 

“I’m enjoying it a lot.” MC smiles. 

“Not worried about your safety?” 

“Not Much,” MC Shrugs. “I don’t think I’ll be totally helpless,” Then MC looks to Satan’s face. Which seems to loudly be saying ‘okay, tell yourself that sweetheart’. “Do you think I should worry?”

“I think it was wise that you asked for a guide,” 

“Me to,” MC smiled, “I like your company.” MC pulls the hand they have clasped with Satan’s closer. For a moment, holding Satan against them. Letting their wing brush against his back. Then MC eases back. Failing to hide a blush that ran across their face. “ Just don’t imagine me helpless.”

“I could never.” Satan smiles softly. “I am the Avatar of wrath after all, and as I can tell.” He looks down at his open hand. Pretending to hold a board. “You have indulged in my sin at least six times.” A humorously low number for Satan. The average human indulged in it at least 50 times by their first birthday. That’s for a remarkably well tempered child, too. 

“That high?” MC winces, but then straightens their spines. Remember Why that had indulged, and feeling proud of that choice. 

“That is very low, and I think it would be good for your health to indulge in it a little more.”

    “Is this how you became friends with Alexander?”

“It’s how I became much more than friends, Dear.” Satan puts a hand on his chest. Looking utterly too proud of himself. MC grimace only deepened as they felt their face heat up. They are saved by an alert on Satan’s D.D.D. “I am afraid I have dinner soon. Your human roommate will be at purgatory hall for dinner, though. I can walk you back if you like?” Satan looks rather annoyed at his phone, but his face relaxes as he looks at MC. 

“That would be nice,” MC smiles and can feel the heat once again rise in their face and chest. “What on your D.D.D made you so upset?”

“Oh, you could see that?” Satan looks rather apologetic. 

“Clear as day, man,” MC has to try and not laugh. 

 “The message came from Lucifer,” Again he says the name with such disgust. MC wants to giggle. “He was reminded I must come to dinner and meet the new human.”

    “The face you just made,” MC has to put a hand over their mouth. Thankfully, they were almost out of the museum. But on the way on they got a couple glares from the Serious Observers. “What about this new human is so upsetting?”

    “Oh it’s not them,” Satan grimaces, but then straightens his spine. 

    “Then what is it?” 

“The process of picking was idiotic. It took four years for them to finally decided on what three humans to pick. The last one was completely random, it turns out.” Satan takes a deep breath. “I left the project after the first human was picked.”

“Who are they?”

“Solomon.” Satan says with a grimace. Left is a gentle way of putting what Satan did when Solomon was picked. The table was thrown through the wall and Satan marched out through the hole. 

“Who?”

“You don’t know? Oh, right… Angel wouldn’t hear about him, I guess.” Satan chews on his lip for a second. “He is an ancient king who managed to get pacts with 72 demons, and accidentally became immortal.” Satan’s has a great number of suspicions about Solomon. There are barely any humans who have One pact with a demon. Yet this human managed to get 72, and immortality. While also maintaining a beloved relationship with a great number of people. To Satan, this reeked of evil in hiding. “He’s also a super powerful wizard and has gone through the university magic program so many times he rewrote a portion of it.”

“So that’s who they picked to show off the magical prowess, huh?”

“It doesn’t even work,” Satan groans. Satan had sat through hours of meetings debating which humans to brings, and how their presence would affect the experience for Other humans in the trip. They fisted wanted a human who had some understanding of the magical to be a grounding force for the other two. Satan had many suggestions of Other magicians who could do a job. Magicians who did have 72 pacts with demons. One of whom being his younger Sibling. “We should have picked a human who could actually use the program. He was a powerful magician before coming to our school. He used it to have fun and meet people.“ 

“So he’s open to fun?” MC bounces slightly as they walk. 

“He can be… but he’s often looking out for himself first.” Since Satan so clearly distrusts Solomon. MC chooses to ignore this, and instead is excited to meet this weird wizard.

“Ah, prioritizing ones own needs. The gift of the ego… that we all have.” MC smirks. Feeling that MC was poking fun at Satan. He bristled and turned a lovely read. 

“It’s not just ego,” Satan huffs. “How could he make so many pacts without being devious?” 

“I don’t know,” MC shrugs. “Have you asked him?”

“No,” Satan looks aghast. “He’s a cunning being, I can’t just ask him.”

“I’ve heard cunning humans can be the most fun,” MC is now starting to walk back to campus with a little more speed. 

“Who would say that?” Satan looks bewildered at the little angel. 

“Simeon,” MC says, unbothered by Satan’s judgement. 

“He enjoys Lucifer’s company, I would not blindly trust Simeon’s taste.” Satan’s lip curls upward when he mentions Lucifer. MC thought on the matter. Simeon had given Lucifer a hug. When it was rather clear that Lucifer was Not a hugger. 

“Do you know if Simeon and Lucifer know each other? I’ve never heard Simeon talk about him, but it’s also frowned upon to talk about him in general.”

“I wouldn’t know, but Lucifer did spend the most time in heaven out of all of us,”

“Ah, who’s Us?”

“Oh my brothers,” Satan sighs, “They might know if Simeon and Lucifer have a history, but I won’t be asking for you.” 

“That’s fair,” MC nods. 

“Do they not talk about the revolution in the celestial realm?”

“Only brief mention. He doesn’t like it being brought up so… most just avoid the topic. I really don’t know much about it.”

“Hmm,” Satan frowns. He didn’t want to strike Lucifer’s ego, but what he did is important history. “I might have some history books you could borrow if you’d like.” It was strange being confronted with the Angel’s reality. Satan couldn’t imagine a life without living in the shadow of that revolution. His exists was born from its grief and agony, and this Angel knew of it only in passing. Did that mean they didn’t know his history at all? 

“Oh, that would be nice, but” The Angel blushes and closes their eyes.” I’m not the best of readers. My eyes get distracted?”

“I have heard of conditions similar to that,” Satan nods, “Well the topic is a heavy one, but if you wanted I could explain our side of the history some time.” They were now walking down the path to Purgatory hall. Satan felt is stomach dip at the thought of leaving. Next would be a dinner of more polite conversation. With the chance, he’d be living with two new assholes now. “If you wanted I could put my contact in your D.D.D. That way we can schedule, and If you need a guide again-” His words faltered as the blush becomes too hot. 

“I would like that very much.” MC Smiles and hands over their D.D.D.

“Oh-” Satan just finished it with a smile, and then takes the D.D.D. With thin fingers he types it all in. “I do have a schedule, so I can’t be your guide always but,” Satan looks into the Angel’s eyes, and feels his heart get stuck in his throat. “Don’t be afraid to ask.”

“I definitely won’t,” MC says, even though their heart was starting to race. MC stumbled as they hit the first steps up into Purgatory hall. “Thank you for taking me around.” MC’s wings flutter slightly, trying to dispel anxiety. “It was really nice getting to know you.”

“It was truly a pleasure,” Satan smiles, and then bows low to the Angel. As he rises, he keeps his eyes steady with MC’s gaze. There is a heartbeat where they are both caught staring at each other. Satan should be going home now, and the Angel should be heading inside. Instead, they both linger. Feeling their hearts surging in their chests, and wondering what they can possibly do about it. “I hope you enjoy your dinner,” Satan regrets the words instantly, but his feet are already moving to walk away. 

“You to!” The Angel blurts, feeling horribly awkward, but also thrilled. The nerves of wanting to make a good impression. As they watched the elegant blond walk away. MC could still feel excitement brewing within them. 

The feeling lingered as MC walked into the main doors of Purgatory Hall. Already they could feel that something was different within the building. A new presence shifted the home's energy. The air now had the smell of a laboratory. MC wandered down the hall till they reached the kitchen. Which is where they found Simeon, Luke, and a stranger gathered around the Oven. The Stranger was tall with bright white hair. The light in his eyes was unmistakably human, but something was off. 

“Are you certain it’s supposed to look like that?” Simeon squinted at the Oven. 

“I have never done this before,” The Strange says easily, but both Simeon and Luke look utterly terrified. 

“What’s going on?” MC asks as they walk behind Luke to get a view of what’s going on. “Why is it...cracked?”

“I believe that’s a part of the baking process,” The stranger smiles warmly and then extend a hand to MC. “My name’s Solomon, I am the human exchange student who will be living with you three.”

“I’m MC,” They take Solomon’s hand. His hand is surprisingly dense and cold. Heavier than the Angel had expected. “I thought there were three humans?”

“Indeed, but the other humans get to live with the brothers.” Solomon sighs. “I still don’t understand why they get to be close to the princes of Hell and not me.” Solomon actually did have a guess why, but he wanted to pout about it.

“Do you want to hear Lucifer and Mammon fighting with each other all the time?” Simeon chuckles.

“That’s a fair point,” Solomon nods. “Not to seem like I’m complaining about being with you three,” MC hadn’t even considered that Solomon might not be happy to be staying with three angels. Now though they had to think about it. A man with 72 pacts with demons might not have the most favorable opinion of angels. MC couldn’t exactly blame him for this, but hoped it wouldn’t get in their way. 

“I think our company is much better than those demons,” Luke tilts up his chin given everyone a good look of his nostrils. 

“Not better,” Simeon tuts, “we our own kind of fun, and will still have plenty of time with the brothers if we choose.” 

“You like them?” Solomon eyes Simeon. 

“Yes,” Simeon smiles genuinely. “I am really happy to see them again.” Solomon nods, and then smiles himself. 

“Me too,”

[morganaspendragonss]

never been one for goodbyes

In the aftermath, the 126 take comfort in each other.

or

a series of vignettes about the 126 trying to come to terms with the events of s2e2

i may or may not have cried while writing this. spoilers for lone star s2e2 to follow

ao3

Judd doesn’t sleep that night. He pretends to for a while, for Grace’s sake, but when he’s certain she’s asleep again he slips out of bed and moves on silent feet to the patio, making a pit stop in the kitchen for whiskey. His fingers shake as they wrap around the glass and he finds he can’t steady his breathing. It doesn’t help that the air outside is foul, volcanic ash and smoke mingling to clog up his throat, but Judd doesn’t care. He won’t be out here for long, just enough to clear his head before he goes back to bed so Grace won’t find out.

Clearly, though, he’s not as subtle as he thought, because soon enough there are footsteps approaching and hands rubbing gentle circles on his shoulders.

“Come back inside, sweetheart,” Grace says, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

He shakes his head, swirling his drink. There’s ash in that too, but it doesn’t matter. He wasn’t drinking it anyway. 

“Judd.” Grace sits next to him, taking his trembling hands in hers. She’s looking at him so softly, and it breaks Judd in two.

“I can’t,” he chokes out. “I saw it, Grace, I saw him get hit by that rock, and I just -”

He breaks off and looks away from her, scrubbing roughly at his eyes. Grace nods and squeezes his hands, like she knows what he’s thinking. Hell, she’s probably thinking about it too; Grace had been on the line that night.

Judd had never seen his brothers’ bodies, but he’d seen Tim’s - or what was left of it. And now… Now, he can’t help but imagine their faces transposed onto his, fire reflected in their glassy eyes just as it had been in Tim’s tonight. He feels guilty for it, because Tim was Tim, not his old crew, but he’s stuck back in that night again and his hands won’t stop fucking shaking.

“I can’t do this again, Gracie,” he sobs, curling in on himself to try and contain the hurt. 

Grace’s arms come around him. “You’re not alone, Judd,” she murmurs. “Not now. Not ever.”

And Judd lets go, leaning into her chest and coming apart in her embrace. 

*

He would have been content to stay out here until the sun came up, but Gwyn eventually insists upon him going back inside. He gives in fairly easily, truth be told; Owen is tired of fighting right now. She doesn’t try to coax him to bed, which he’s grateful for, but she does sit with him, a silent, stoic presence at his side. 

“Where’s TK?” she asks after a while. “I didn’t notice him coming in with you.”

“He’s with Carlos, I think.”

“You think?” There’s a quiet note of panic in Gwyn’s voice, and Owen hates himself for causing it. Hates himself more for understanding it, maybe even sharing it a little. “Owen -”

“He’s fine,” he says. “Or, he’s not… He’s with Carlos. That’s what he said, and I believe him.”

Gwyn nods, lips pursed. “Okay.”

They lapse into silence again, Owen feeling the weariness and heavy, heavy grief settling deeper into his bones with each passing moment. He and Tim hadn’t even been that close, but Owen has a duty of care. Everybody who clocks in, clocks out. It’s one of his rules, a rule he’s broken very few times in his career.

The first time was 9/11, his entire firehouse wiped out save for him.

The second was when TK got shot, and Owen thought his world was imploding all over again.

Today was the third time, which makes it three times too many in Owen’s book. It can’t happen again. It won’t.

“Owen,” Gwyn says, and she’s looking at him with those wide, pleading eyes that Owen knows he can’t refuse. “Remember what I said earlier? Please don’t bottle this up.”

Owen swallows thickly. “I won’t,” he says, and he doesn’t know if it’s a lie.

*

TK doesn’t know how long they spend on the stairs, curled around one another. Long enough for his legs to start to cramp, and it’s only the thought that Carlos must be just as uncomfortable that finally persuades him to let go.

“You okay?” Carlos asks as he straightens out, the first words either of them have spoken since TK walked in. 

TK hesitates, a ‘yes’ halfway to his lips, but the lie is bitter on his tongue and he knows he can’t fake it. Not with Carlos. So he simply shakes his head and looks down at the floor, focusing on nothing in particular.

He hasn’t cried yet; he doesn’t know if he will. It’s usually these kinds of nights when the pull to his addiction is strongest - nights like Alex leaving him and finding out about his dad’s cancer and sudden, pointless heartbreak - but he’s just...numb. He keeps playing the call on repeat in his head, from the initial panic to the shock at seeing Tim, and he doesn’t feel it.

He doesn’t feel a goddamn thing.

Carlos takes his hand and gently pulls him upright, offering himself as support. TK takes it, leaning heavily on Carlos as they shuffle to bed, the silence between them a comfort to him. His fingers fumble as he tries to strip off, and Carlos helps with that too, without TK even trying to ask him.

“Thank you,” he manages, his voice coming out hoarse and weak. In response, Carlos offers him a small smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, which are wide and expressive and horribly sad.

They fall asleep together as the sun begins to come up, TK’s head resting on Carlos’s chest and Carlos’s arms secure around him. 

It feels safe. It feels like home.

*

Nancy’s been staring at her phone for the post half hour, her thumb hovering over the call button. She needs to do it, she knows this, if only out of basic human decency. But she’s not sure if she has it in her to say the words, not when she’s still expecting Tim to come walking down the hall and joke about her messing up his stuff. 

None of this will be here in a week. Less, even. Captain Vega had promised to give her time, but Nancy doesn’t know if she has the strength to let go. They’d been a team, her and Tim, and Michelle before she left. Now it’s just Nancy, alone in the darkened firehouse, listening to the replacement crew go about their shift as if nothing had happened.

On impulse, and a sudden need to get it over with, Nancy presses call. It rings a few times, Nancy realising that it’s the early hours of the morning and she might not pick up, but then there’s a familiar voice coming down the line.

“Nancy?” Michelle says, her voice heavy with sleep. “Everything okay?”

“Michelle,” Nancy gets out, then stops, the lump in her throat choking her at the prospect of telling Michelle that Tim… That he’s gone.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Michelle sounds more awake now, concern bleeding into her tone. “I saw the volcano on the news; you’re all okay, right?”

Nancy doesn’t respond straight away, and clearly it’s enough to tell Michelle all she needs to know. “Who?” she asks.

“I… It happened so fast. I didn’t even realise at first.” Nancy sobs. “He’s just… He’s gone, Michelle.”

“Who, Nancy?” There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “Not… God, Nancy, don’t tell me it’s Tim.”

Nancy can only choke out an affirmative before another sob crawls its way up her throat, and suddenly she’s sliding off the bench onto the cold floor. Michelle’s crying too, she can hear it faintly down the line, and it’s a small comfort to know she’s not totally alone in this.

*

Mateo doesn’t bother to change before speeding out of the firehouse, letting his legs carry him wherever. He can’t shake the feeling of guilt from his body, like if he’d just tried harder, been faster, done more, he could have stopped it. 

Maybe if he’d helped Tim evacuate his patient. Because, really, Tim shouldn’t have even still been there by that pool. Someone should have helped him. Mateo should have helped him.

He’d heard what the others said. It was nobody’s fault, it was a freak accident, he shouldn’t blame himself… Thing is, Mateo can tell they don’t believe it either. He can see they all feel just as guilty as he does.

Still. Mateo knows it’s not their fault. He just wishes he could believe the same about himself. They’re not the ones who have to prove themselves, after all, but he’s still the probie. Still the one who’s out on his ear if he fucks up - like letting a team member get killed on call.

His feet come to rest outside the church, his breath coming in harsh pants and his whole body aching after running for however long. The sun is well and truly up, so it must have been a while.

He hasn’t been to church in a while, but there’s nothing like a guilty conscience to convince a man to go back. Is it selfish, this desire for redemption?

Does he deserve it?

*

Paul holds her until her tears have dried up and she’s almost collapsing on him, exhausted to her very soul. He holds her after, too, sitting on the gym’s floor with her as she stares blankly into space.

“You can go home, if you want,” Marjan eventually manages, pulling away to wipe at her eyes. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’m good here,” Paul says.

Marjan looks at him then - properly looks at him. She’s not as good at reading people as Paul is, but she’d been a fool to not see how much he, too, is hurting. It makes her feel guilty for forcing him to be there for her, when he’d lost Tim just as much as she did.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Which is a stupid question, because are any of them okay? But it’s also the only question left to them; it’s a reassurance and a comfort and an answer wrapped together.

Paul smiles fleetingly. “No. You?”

“About the same.”

Paul nods and Marjan leans into him, not caring that they’re both sweaty and grimy. They sit in silence for a long while, until the sun is high in the sky and then some, taking comfort in the presence of someone else next to them.

And, carefully, they hold each other together.

[missing-marvel]

The Shape of You (Pt. 4)

Pairing: Vision/Reader

Part 3, Part 5

Words: 5698

A/N: *shows up several months late with coffee and a new chapter* What’s up y’all, who’s ready for more metal husband?

-

You awoke feeling sluggish and hazy, practically choking on dust and resisting the need to sneeze. The feeling quickly shifted to panic as you opened your eyes to even more darkness which only worsened when you tried to move, something blocking the space in front of you as well as tangling around your legs. It wasn’t until you rolled to the floor with a loud ‘thud’ that you remembered falling asleep on the sofa. You didn’t remember grabbing a blanket, however, which had gotten wrapped around your legs in your sleep.

You recognized Vision’s silhouette as he appeared hurriedly from the other room. You couldn’t see much in the dim light, but you could recognize him by his eyes alone. They glowed softly in the dark, that electric-blue bringing some familiarity to your surroundings.

The lights came on and you were momentarily blinded, shielding your eyes with your hand as they adjusted. “Sorry,” you said, blinking the last remnants of sleep away. “I just fell off the sofa. I’m okay.” You took a good look around the room for the first time since arriving, still not bothering to get up off the floor. It looked like a fairly basic living space. There was a patterned rug, a coffee table, some shelves with a few random knick-knacks, the usual. You did notice the lack of a TV, however. You supposed it wasn’t worth investing in one if no one would be living here ninety-nine percent of the time.

Still a bit groggy, you almost didn’t see Vision walk over to you and extend a hand to help you up. To be completely honest, you were perfectly comfortable on the floor but you weren’t going to turn him away. You uttered a quick ‘thanks’ as you got to your feet.

You had absolutely no idea what time it was but it was definitely dark out. Not a speck of light filtered in through the drawn curtains. Whether it was evening or early morning, however, you hadn’t a clue. “What time is it?”

Vision pointed to a digital clock sitting on a bookshelf close by. It read 6:30.

“I only slept for a few hours?” Well, more like several hours, by your estimate. It was broad daylight when you’d arrived. Still, that was surprising given that you’d basically passed out as soon as you got indoors and hadn’t slept in like two days.

Vision shook his head, however, cutting off your train of thought. He held up one finger on his right hand and put it down before holding up nine in total. It took you a second to understand what he meant, thinking he was saying ten before realizing.

“Are you saying I slept nineteen hours?” Vision just nodded and you let out a sigh. That explained why you felt so stiff. That much time on a sofa, even a surprisingly comfortable one, would take its toll. One other thing struck you, however. “Wait a minute, so it’s six in the morning, then? It’s awfully dark out.” You chanced a peek out the window to actually confirm that it was, in fact, dark outside.

You turned back when you heard the familiar scratch of pen on paper. It looked like Vision had found a new notepad somewhere. By the time you walked over, he had finished writing. “Clock is an hour ahead. Haven’t fixed it. Only got power back on a couple hours ago.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.” This time of year, it was perfectly normal to be dark at 5:30. However, it was also cold outside and you were beginning to notice that in here as well. You picked up the blanket off the floor and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around yourself. “Is there heat at all?”

Vision wrote his response as quick as possible, handwriting still impeccable as always. “It’s on but not very strong. Building isn’t in best condition anymore. There’s fuses missing so I prioritized some things. A few lights aren’t going to work.” He stepped aside and gestured somewhere down the small hallway behind him. On the wall was an open panel.

“Wait this place still has a fuse box? The Avengers couldn’t afford someplace with circuit breakers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your own joke, if you could really call it that. You were just happy your custodial knowledge was relevant for once.

“Old SHIELD building,” Vision quickly noted. If this place had been built by the Avengers, it would be far more modern, probably to an unnecessary extent. Tony Stark would only stand for the best, even if it was a safe house that would almost never get used.

“Shield? Are they still around?” You only sort of understood what SHIELD was. No more than any other member of the general public. They were a kind-of, sort-of government agency or something like that. They always kept their stuff super secret so most people never really knew what they did. Then there was the whole deal with Hydra which nobody understood. You decided a long time ago it wasn’t worth worrying about, much like most of the American populace. Perhaps you should have paid closer attention.

Vision simply tilted his hand side-to-side in a gesture that implied that the answer was complicated and really not worth getting into. He shifted the conversation to you instead. “How are you feeling?”

“I should be asking you that. You weren’t doing so well yesterday.” You tried not to let the worry in your voice show, though you weren’t sure what good it would do.

You thought you saw a hint of a smile cross his face as he turned back to his paper. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.”

“Vision...” You recalled back to the other night, when you’d told him nearly the same thing after a couple solid days of no sleep. Before you could retort, however, he’d turned and headed toward the other room, gesturing for you to follow.

The small office space was an absolute mess. The only reason you called it an office was the papers and folders scattered around the room as well as the computer tucked away on a desk in the corner. Underneath a blanket of dust, it looked almost exactly like the first computer you’d ever owned. Actually, it might just be the first computer. You were pretty sure it should be in a museum.

Vision navigated the difficult terrain with ease as he made his way to the desk. You, on the other hand, felt like you were doing a balancing act as you tried to limit your steps to the few parts of the floor that were visible. You didn’t know what all these stacks of papers and folders were exactly, but you figured it was best not to mess with them.

“There’s no way that thing works,” you said once you’d cleared a spot to stand by the desk, your own little island of shag carpeting amongst the sea of paper.

Vision pried open a panel on the side of the computer, carefully removing a CPU board with all the expertise of a seasoned technician. The actual monitor was half buried in a pile of miscellaneous cords and plugs next to the desk. After a brief moment of inspection, wherein he must’ve decided all appeared fine, he went ahead and booted the thing up.

It chugged to life like a patient coming out of surgery, slowly and with great difficulty. It made sounds you were pretty sure should only be coming from a lawn mower but all the lights eventually blinked on in time. As it did so, you braved the sneeze-inducing dust pile for the monitor, the air turning cloudy as you shifted all the junk that had been untouched for years. “I’m guessing you’ll need this?” You hoisted the dinosaur of a monitor up onto the desk, Vision taking it gratefully and nodding a thanks your way.

For a minute after he plugged it in, it seemed the screen wasn’t going to work. Only after staring at it did you realize it was working, albeit extremely slowly. A symbol was appearing on the screen, the shape becoming more discernible the longer the machine whirred. As far you could tell, it looked like some kind of government emblem, like an eagle with a crest in the center. It wasn’t until it had spent a solid minute loading that you were able to read the text surrounding it. “Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement... Logistics Division? What on Earth does— wait, that’s what SHIELD stands for?”

Vision nodded in a way that suggested he wasn’t overly fond of the acronym either. You were beginning to think he wasn’t so difficult to read after all, not like you thought when you’d first met, at least. It just took time, much like reading the decades-old monitor had.

“I think someone just really wanted the initials to spell out shield.” You gave a breathy laugh, more air than sound. “What’re you going to do with this old thing? Can it even get internet?”

Vision shook his head and reached for his paper from the edge of the desk. “Not that kind of computer,” he wrote. You resisted butting in as he tore off a new sheet, still not used to the pauses in conversation that resulted from the rather roundabout method of communication. “It’s wired directly into an old SHIELD system and by extension, hopefully, the Avengers emergency system.”

“Really? I would’ve guessed this place predated the Avengers.” As you spoke, Vision got the keyboard hooked up which had been stuffed into one of the desk drawers. It was missing at least a quarter of its key caps, the really chunky, old kind that made a satisfying click-clack when pressed. Apparently they’d prioritized actual computer hardware over keyboards considering there were offices at your job that still had keyboards just like it. Correction: your old job. You’d almost forgotten.

“SHIELD software was integrated with Stark tech after the Battle of New York. In theory, we should be able to put out an emergency signal on a secure Avengers server from here.” You almost hadn’t noticed Vision writing again as you zoned out a bit.

You would’ve been more excited over good news, but you’d learned over the years what happened when you got your hopes up. “So when you say in theory, I’m guessing the odds aren’t exactly...” You trailed off, unable to continue without sounding horribly pessimistic.

“It will work,” was all he wrote, a noticeable firmness in his grip as he held the pen. You didn’t say anything else but moved closer to the desk, directly by his side now. There was what could only be described as a hint of doubt in his expression before he turned back to the monitor as green text cluttered the screen.

“We can only hope so.” You let your hand brush his shoulder as you navigated back towards the door, no longer particularly caring to avoid crumpling the paper on the floor.

You weren’t sure how long it would take Vision to finish what he was doing, especially with the tech he was stuck with. You found it more than a bit ironic that possibly the most advanced machine on the planet had to use a decades-old computer to call for help. It felt weird to think of him as a machine. After what you’d been through in the past 24 hours alone, you’d begun to think of him as just another person. Well, not just another person, that wasn’t what you meant. How to put it...? You just couldn’t explain it. There was no precedent in your mind for a situation like this. Vision was a living being. As alive as anyone, maybe more so. That much you could say confidently.

Trying not to get too lost in your thoughts, you busied yourself investigating the rest of the apartment, not that there was much to find. Living room, connected kitchen, hallway with the office and stairs that led up to a bedroom and bathroom. All pretty standard. All of it looked fresh out of the 80’s. Well, maybe not fresh.

Just as you completed your lap of the place, you were interrupted by a low grumble from none other than your own stomach. That was a problem. There was definitely not food here. You had no other choice really than to shove the feeling to the back of your mind for now. You got yourself a glass of water to make do. At least the plumbing worked.

By the time Vision came back, it had been less than twenty minutes. “That was quick. Any success?” You sipped your water, ignoring the slight metallic tang it had.

Vision wrote as he crossed the room to stand opposite you from the island counter. “The beacon is active. Now someone just needs to hear it.”

Despite his lack of vocals, you sensed a definite lack of confidence in his words. “How long do you think that’ll take?” You hoped not too long. You were concerned about your food situation.

He didn’t bother writing a response. The expression on his face made it clear; he had no idea. Maybe never, if no one was out there to hear it. You only hummed a response, neither confirming nor retorting. The sound of you sipping your water seemed immensely loud in the heavy silence of the room.

“Well, what do we do now?” You were becoming anxious again. You didn’t like being forced to sit and wait. At any minute, you felt like law enforcement would start breaking the door down.

“We wait. There’s nothing else we can do.” He seemed apologetic. He wished he could give you a more concrete answer, some sort of assurance that this would all work out, but he couldn’t. Not truthfully, anyway.

It looked like you had some time to kill. You weren’t sure what all there really was to do. Still, it wasn’t all bad. At least you had company. “I wonder if there’s a better way we can communicate,” you mused, turning your mind to less dire matters.

Vision seemed to brighten up a bit as he was struck by an idea. “You don’t happen to know any ASL, do you?”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. I assume you do?”

He responded by holding up his right hand in a closed fist and sort of nodded it up and down.

“I’m guessing that means... yes?” It wasn’t a far stretch. You’d actually thought about learning ASL before but never gotten around to it. There were more uses for it than people realized. Too bad work left you too busy and tired to make the time for lessons. Well now you had nothing but time.

Vision just nodded his head in the more familiar interpretation of the word. He grabbed the pen and paper again off the counter. “I could teach you some. At least the important parts, if you want.” He hesitated a split second between sentences, just a bit nervous, though the pause was nowhere near long enough for you to notice. It was barely a stutter in his programming, a single digit skipped somewhere in his code. Nothing to be concerned with.

“Yeah,” you said, maybe just slightly too enthusiastic. “Yeah, that’d be great! I— I mean, it would be useful, you know? Way more efficient than pen and paper. Uhm...” You were struggling to ask how he wanted to start when your stomach growled, providing a convenient segue into another topic. “Heh, sorry. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.” You tried to pass it off as no big deal, although you really were starving. You hadn’t eaten anything since before setting Vision free. It had been well over a full day since then.

He looked surprised for a moment, which he was, before he began writing. For a genius super-computer, he could sometimes be very forgetful of the needs of his human cohorts. They were very fragile things, humans. The need for sleep and food was something Vision never had to worry about, something he realized he took for granted. Something akin to guilt began to gnaw at him when he too realized how long it had been since the escape. He should’ve brought up the matter earlier. “We need to get you food,” he wrote very matter-of-factly. It wasn’t something up for debate.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of cash on me, Vis.” You flinched at the nickname, quick to move on before he could call you out on it. It had been merely a slip of the tongue, just shortening his name for the sake of convenience. It could have been a gesture of friendship towards the android, though you weren’t sure you’d quite earned the right to call Vision a friend, even if you were fond of him. “I’ve got like 10 bucks, tops.” You pulled a few crumpled bills from your pockets to emphasize your point. You obviously couldn’t use your credit card, either. You’d seen enough movies to know that.

Vision thought a moment before coming up with an idea. “It’s not the most ethical thing to do, but I could get cash out of an ATM. It’s technically a matter of survival, after all.” He demonstrated exactly what he meant by phasing his hand through the paper as you read, something that could just as easily be done to a cash machine.

It wasn’t so much the legality of the idea that bothered you. After all, you’d stolen multiple cars. It was the matter of Vision’s safety. Not that he couldn’t protect himself but he would be spotted quite easily if he went outside. That was just a matter of fact. And if someone called the police on a strange magenta man or anything along the lines of ‘robot,’ you could pretty much guarantee trouble. “I don’t know... What if someone sees you? The last thing we want is to compromise the safe house. I can just wait awhile longer, I’ll be fine.”

Your stomach chose that moment to grumble again, completely undermining your point. Vision shot you a look that more than sufficed to communicate what he was thinking but he wrote it down anyway. “It would seem we don’t have much of a choice.”

You sighed, all but forced to agree. Although, it would be nice to get some actual food before your stomach started eating itself. “Fine,” you relented. “But we wait until it gets dark out. It’s safer that way.”

Vision wasn’t about to argue.

-

Memorization wasn’t really your strong suit, but you seemed to do surprisingly well with the start of your sign language lessons. It helped that your teacher was so patient.

Vision thought it would be best to start with a few simple phrases for the sake of saving paper. Common things such as ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you.’ You had the benefit of only really needing to recognize them as opposed to being able to do the signs yourself, since Vision could obviously hear you, but you took it upon yourself to mimic the gestures anyway.

It had been a few hours and your head was starting to ache but you insisted on continuing. You were certain you were doing well and you wanted Vision to be impressed. Not only could you remember how to spell your own name, you could spell his as well. The rest of the alphabet may not have stuck as much but oh well. For now, words and phrases were more important.

“That’s... someone?” You guessed as Vision held up his index finger and waved it in a sort of circle. He’d been quizzing you for a few minutes now, to which you’d done pretty well. He shook his head this time, however, and tried not to look amused by the almost comically offended look on your face. “What? Yes it is! I’m certain that means ‘someone!’” You were insistent on the fact. Vision hadn’t tried to trip you up yet but he must be this time. You tried to mimic the motion, repeating the word as if that would change anything.

He shook his head again, not bothering to hide his smile this time. He reached for your hand, raising it higher to show you that there was, in fact, a slight difference between what he was signing and what you were. For a moment, you looked almost startled, like a deer in headlights. He didn’t miss the hint of color that tinged your cheeks. His assumption was merely that you were embarrassed by your mistake, though it was an easy one to make. He switched back to paper in order to explain. “This,” he repeated his first gesture. “means ‘always’. What you signed was ‘someone.’ See the difference?”

You nodded in understanding although your attention was beginning to drift. You felt like you were cramming for an exam in a class you hadn’t been attending. You may or may not have actually had to do that before. The point was, you’d learned just about all you were going to for the day. And just in time, it seemed, as you glanced toward the curtains, no longer backlit by the afternoon sun. You’d managed to kill most of the day, between checking that the computer was still working and just generally talking with Vision. There wasn’t much else to do, not that you were complaining. You were quite enjoying the android’s company and not just because you were stuck with him. And to top it off, you’d managed to distract yourself from how hungry you were. Until now, that is.

“How about we call it a day on the lessons, hm? I’d say now’s about the best time to head outside. There’s just one thing we have to do first.” You turned and exited the room without explanation, only saying you’d be right back. You ran upstairs to the bedroom, hoping you could find what you needed. You hadn’t voiced your plan to Vision, although you saw no reason for him not to go along with it. It was a smart idea if you said so yourself. At least that’s what you told yourself as you began rifling through drawers.

Vision wasn’t sure what to think at first when you came bumbling down the stairs again with a messily folded bundle in your hands. But your intention became clear quite quickly once you’d returned, immediately holding out the clothes to him before bothering to explain.

“I hope this isn’t rude but you kind of… stand out. I just thought, maybe it’d be a good idea to disguise yourself. Just for safety. Is that okay?” You hoped there was no offense taken by the gesture. In truth, you were glad Vision was going with you and not just because of the money thing. You didn’t feel particularly safe walking the streets alone at night, especially when you didn’t know the area. But having Vision by your side made you feel nigh invincible. There was just the small issue of technically being wanted criminals.

He smiled, more to himself than anything. It was just strange, he thought, how concerned you were with his opinion. Of course he wasn’t offended. It was a smart idea. He chuckled a bit, although it was a strange action given his physical state. The motion of a laugh was there, his shoulders shuddering as any human’s would despite his lack of need to actually breathe, but there was no sound. It was one of those mannerisms that was ingrained in his programming, though he wasn’t sure quite where it came from. Not from Jarvis, certainly, since the AI had no physical form, and Ultron likely hadn’t been terribly focused on such gestures at the time of his creation. In reality, it was simply something he’d picked up on his own, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

You let out a breathy chuckle of your own as he took the clothes, glad to see he agreed with you wholeheartedly. He got dressed quickly, leaving only his face visible when he was done. Luckily, it was cold enough outside for him to get away with wearing gloves, a scarf and a hat. The clothes were a bit old-fashioned but in a professional way. The long wool coat and slacks in particular gave the impression of a scholarly type, perhaps even a professor. You couldn’t help but think it was a good look for him.

“Well don’t you look just dashing,” you teased. You’d found a coat for yourself as well, deciding your own jacket wasn’t going to be enough. You silently thanked whatever SHIELD employee set this place up for supplying a myriad of spare clothes. “Oh, one more thing.” You turned to the coat rack by the door, grabbing a scarf that had been left hanging there. “Just in case.”

You hesitated at the front door. Despite the fact that you were merely going to look for a convenience store or something similar, your anxiety spiked as though it were a dangerous mission. You could just imagine all the ways you could get caught. It was almost enough to make you stay here, slowly starving to death waiting for something to happen. Vision noticed your apprehension, however, and did the first thing that came to mind to soothe your worries. He gave you a warm smile, holding out a bent arm for you to take. He thought you might find the somewhat old-fashioned gesture funny and he was right. You laughed, taking his arm anyway. It was a nice reminder that the odds of anything bad happening were tremendously low, which you mentally repeated to yourself as you stepped outside.

-

Everything had gone off without a hitch. There was a small grocery store a few blocks down which you’d run into just before closing time so the store was nearly empty. Vision had waited outside near the ATM, which had provided the funds you needed. Other than the bored clerk at the store, you hadn’t seen so much as a single soul this whole trip. By the time you and Vision were walking back, burdened by just a few days worth of groceries (which would ideally be more than enough), your previous worries had all but melted away.

You only wished the weather matched the feeling. Nothing was melting in this cold. In fact, a few snowflakes had begun to fall. They were almost mesmerizing under the blueish haze of the streetlights, whipped into a frenzy by the faintest of gusts. The sight wasn’t enough of a distraction, however. You couldn’t help it when a shiver wracked your body, your coat not doing nearly enough to prevent it. Vision noticed this, however, and stopped you both in your tracks.

He was quick to reach for the paper and pen in his coat pocket, a look on his face of more concern than you thought necessary. It was only a little chill. “Are you cold?” The question wasn’t particularly necessary, the answer being obvious. Still, it was polite to ask.

You tried to shrug it off, noticeably tensing to suppress a second shiver. “I’m fine. Let’s just hurry back.” You turned to keep walking, knowing there was still a decent walk ahead but he stopped you, putting a hand on your arm for the briefest of seconds. He just looked at you a moment, seeming to forget about his paper. You caught the faintest hint of conflict in his expression, though you didn’t know why. “What is it, Vision?”

Realizing he’d made you worry, Vision seemed to snap back to his senses. He gave you a reassuring smile and reached for his scarf, undoing it quickly. You were facing him, standing close enough to see the circuitry in his eyes. He paused again, however, debating his next action. For a being that didn’t have nerves, he sure felt nervous and didn’t fully understand why. He moved at a pace far slower than he was used to, hesitantly wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. His touch was light as a feather as if he were afraid to touch you. You could do nothing but watch him, lost in the details of his eyes and face as your grip on the grocery bags began to loosen involuntarily.  There was a moment where neither of you moved, his hands still lingering on the loose fabric of the scarf.

Your heart skipped a beat at the gesture, mind racing to find a logical conclusion that didn’t concern such things as the vague and confusing emotions that spiked in your chest just then. It was cold, so Vision gave you his scarf. Your hands were full, so he put it on for you. But what you couldn’t answer was why he lingered the way that he did and more importantly, why your chest began to feel tight in a way that wasn’t as unpleasant as you’d think. The most sensible reason you could think of was that he was simply a gentleman, and perhaps a little unfamiliar with personal boundaries. That was the only possibility you had the strength to consider. Anything else would open doors you were afraid to even imagine.

Footsteps scraping heavily against the pavement cut the tender, if rather nerve-filled moment short. You turned toward the sound, though Vision remained facing slightly away, bowing his head somewhat in an attempt to conceal himself. You froze when a figure emerged from the alleyway; a heavy-set man whose posture listed to one side, most likely from some kind of injury. His clothes were noticeably old and ragged, most definitely not warm enough for this weather. You would’ve asked him if he needed help were it not for the knife he brandished at you.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” he said, his voice wavering. Funny, you were just about to say the same thing. Clearly, he wouldn’t be doing this unless he was desperate and in a bad situation. Unfortunately, you weren’t much better off. “I saw you, I know you have cash. Just hand it over and no one gets hurts.”

Under normal circumstances you would’ve complied but you’d used up pretty much all the cash you got and you couldn’t risk giving him your wallet. If your ID found its way into police hands there’d be government agents swarming this place before you ever got the chance to bail. “We don’t have any money left, I swear. Please, just walk away.” You moved slowly, setting the grocery bags on the ground and raising your hands in surrender without making any sudden movements that could set him off. You weren’t as afraid as you probably should’ve been, choosing to try and reason with the man rather than flee, which would probably be the smarter option.

The man stepped closer to you, his grip on the knife visibly tightening. He was nearly within arm’s reach now which wasn’t ideal but you held your ground. Vision caught the man’s movement out of the corner of his eye, his hand reflexively grabbing at your arm protectively. The man furrowed his brow, glancing between the two of you in confusion. At this distance, even without Vision facing him, he could almost definitely tell something was strange here. Having given you his scarf, the only things covering Vision’s face were a hat and upturned coat collar. You spoke up again, drawing the man’s attention before he could get too close of a look. “This doesn’t have to get messy. Please… ”

You weren’t sure exactly how long the three of you stood there, time frozen around you. The only things that moved were the snowflakes that had grown more frequent in the past couple minutes. The man finally shifted, albeit barely, one foot scraping harshly against the concrete as he braced himself. He glanced between you and Vision again, jaw clenched tightly. “I ain’t walking away empty-handed. I can’t. Just gimme your damn wallet.”

Vision tugged gently on your arm. You weren’t sure exactly what he was trying to say, either trying to pull you closer to him or signal that you should run. You didn’t think running was a good idea. You feared Vision’s injuries acting up again and you didn’t want to test your own speed either. You turned back to the man, desperately pleading at this point. “I can’t …”

“Then I’ll just have to take it from you.” He didn’t give you another chance to argue, immediately lunging at you haphazardly. He couldn’t even get close to hitting you, however, as Vision’s reflexes were far superior to the man’s. The android grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully to the side and forcing him to drop the knife. The man yelped and threw a punch at Vision, who dodged it easily. The man didn’t seem to understand just how drastically outmatched he was, not even now that he had a clear view of Vision’s face. Whatever was going through his head, he still seemed to think fighting was his best option. He took another swing at Vision who, up until this point, had no intention of fighting back. But he was left with few other options. He pushed back against his attacker, sending the man sprawling to the ground with a painful ‘smack’ as he hit the pavement. There was genuine fear in his eyes when he looked back up at the two of you.

“Vis, we gotta go.” It was you holding his arm now, pleading with him to leave. He nodded quickly, completely in agreement. The two of you paused only long enough to scoop up the dropped grocery bags before making your escape. The man didn’t dare follow you as you disappeared down a side street, desperate to avoid any more prying eyes. This was the exact sort of thing you’d been afraid of when you’d left the safe house. You could only hope the man kept his mouth shut about what he’d witnessed tonight but it seemed luck may not be on your side.

-

A/N:  I want to mention that I don’t personally know much ASL and had to rely on videos, etc. so if anything at all is wrong, I apologize. Feel free to call me out.

[my-writings-and-musings]

hey! so idk if you write platonic relationships but if you do, could you write something about whirl asking someone to be his amica endura? i just. i need more whirl love in my life and GODDAMN i love the way you write him sm gshdjf,,, thank you!! <33

I miiiiggghhht have gone a little overboard on this one and made it more of a short story than an answer... But I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the compliment, I do try my best to write Whirley well!

Whirl doesn't like to let fear boss him around. Ordinarily that's easy enough to accomplish, he's a big bot and threatening his life is a great way to end yours, and any threat he can't kill (for moral or legal reasons) can usually be ignored out of existence. As a result he's had very little to be afraid of these past few millennia, and he's even perfected his reflexes to the point he can quickly judge what reaction is warranted whenever that creeping feeling returns, meaning it never lasts more than a few minutes tops. It's a solid strategy, and the proof is that he's outlived everyone who's ever doubted it. Most of them, anyway. He's been getting sloppy since this whole quest thing.

Or more specifically, since he met you on this quest thing. The quest thing that's becoming less about the quest and more about the real treasure you've all gained along the way, which for once isn't the (many) guns he's found or the (countless) bad guy corpses he's left in the rearview mirrors.

Nope. It's you. The squishiest little air breather his optic has ever beheld, and darn the saps on this crew for rubbing off on him, because he wants to go out of his way to let you know that. Their silly insistence on honesty has made him feel like you need to know what you mean to him, and isn't that just ridiculous?

But if it's so ridiculous why was he scared? Because you could say no, damn it! You'd be silly not to! It was one thing for you to hang out with the ship's resident screw up and part time nutjob, maybe even have a drink with him, and sure you'd actually called him your friend and the two of you had looked death in the eye to insult its cataracts on more than one occasion together... But to officially declare to the crew and the universe you were Amica Endura and that you actually liked him?

You'd be mortified he even thought it was okay to ask, obviously. Then you'd wisely cut all ties and pretend you didn't know him, and he'd be left with... well, not nothing, but not much above nothing either. Worse actually now that he considered it, he'd probably be left with pain. The kind of pain you only got when you lost something, a particular experience he'd spent a very long time trying to ensure he'd never have to endure again, and he'd been doing pretty well until you showed up. But he wasn't mad at you, he was mad at himself, both for having the audacity to grow feelings and then getting soft enough to actually acknowledge them like a sap.

But facing fear was far better than the alternative. If he kept on pretending you were just another chum, that you didn't deserve the title of Amica for what you meant to him, then he'd have guilt. More guilt, to be specific, and he was already fully stocked on that. So... fear it was then. Fear and the inevitable pain that would follow when you did the only sane thing you could.

But hey, what was another mistake in the pile, right?

You'd been in your room by yourself, just relaxing an perusing the wonders of interstellar Wi-Fi, when he'd decided there literally couldn't be a better time. Some bots insisted that a proper ceremony required witnesses, but those bots couldn't judge him if there were no witnesses, now could they? Checkmate, seeing as how the two of you would definitely never speak to each other again after this... His claws had knocked on the door with as little force as he could muster, some part of him hoping you wouldn't hear and he'd have a reason to retreat, but as usual he also had to open his mouth and ruin that plan.

"Hey, Y/N, you uh... you alive in there?"

Approximating a facepalm as best he could without either half of the required components, his spark dropped when you replied with a good natured laugh, probably thinking he was just being his usual self and not making much sense. Which was true, just not in the usual way...

You'd happily opened the door with a command on your data pad, inviting him to come in and relax because you weren't up to anything anyway. Claws clacking together nervously, he'd entered with an unconvincing veneer of calm, far too worried to really pretend otherwise. Long legs carry him with slow steps, and he can't help but survey your room; he's certain this is the last time he'll ever see it. Your tiny belongings looking so ridiculously small in the Cybertronian sized living space, the ladders that have been welded to everything, gosh, is it foggy in here or is that just some emotional turmoil in his optic?

"Whirl? Are you okay?"

Of course not, but thanks for asking is what he wants to say, but a more accurate reply would involve him mentioning how things were actually really okay for a while... Until he'd started messing it all up, a process he'd be finishing up now so you could both move on with your lives.

"Oh... that's a matter of debate." He finally brings himself to say, claws firmly pinched to prevent him from any further tapping. You look more concerned than baffled, which is nice. Somehow you'd always managed to look past what he said to understand what he means. That's something he'll miss, once he finally manages to get this over with. Of course his voicebox is pitching a fit and refusing to cooperate, but it's going to be a simple series of steps once he gets it going. He'll ask you to be Amica, you'll refuse, and then he leaves. It's such a simple plan that even he can't find something to blow up in the process. Not for lack of trying, mind you...

"Is there something you need? You've been a little off lately." You said, putting aside your data pad to move to the edge of the berth. It hadn't escaped your notice that the usually loud mech had been growing quiet around you as of late, his one optic looking almost forlornly in your direction when he thought you were focused elsewhere, and so you sat and let your legs dangle off the berth to let him know you were listening. His antenna twitched backwards like a startled ear on a mammal.

"Me? Well, I'd be inclined to say..." Some half attempt at a joke died before it even could be set up, and he quickly decided the stalling had gone on long enough. If he had to endure one more second of gnawing apprehension he was going to have to destroy something exceptionally expensive to shake off the nerves, and he had just gotten his room the way he liked it. Better to go down with some dignity if he could. "You're spot on, actually. I've been off because I've got something I've gotta get off my chassis, but it's not gonna be fun for either of us. Still needs to be done though, ain't that a shame?"

Any other person on the ship would have been terrified if he'd said that to them. They'd have expected some kind of terrible bodily injury, no doubt, but you knew him better than that. You knew that if he wanted to hurt anyone it would happen as soon as he entered a room, and with something way more intimidating to kick off the fun. Instead your expression was just thoughtful, concerned, and only a little confused. "I... if it upsets you then yeah, but why do you have to do it?"

"Do you know what an Amica is?" He blurted out, the words almost hurting as they came into being. It felt like he had just struck another match, surrounded himself with fuel, and this time there'd be no interruptions.

"Amica?"

"There an echo in here?" He said dryly, unable to help jumping on the chance for an old classic. Apologetically lowering his optics, he released a quick bit of air from his vents in imitation of a cough. "Yeah, that, know what it is?"

"Sure, it's like... best friends, only way deeper, bound for life." You said, recalling it amongst the many Cybertronian terms you'd been learning these past few months. It had obviously had cultural implications and connections you just didn't have the experience to understand, but the importance of the practice had been abundantly clear from the moment you first heard of it. Chief among the things you'd been able to determine was that it carried no less weight than being a Conjunx, it was just a different kind of love.

He clicked his claws together in an imitation of an affirming snap. "That's the one. It's tough to explain to aliens, but that's the basic rundown, and there's a whole ceremony to it and everything. Did you know that?" He appreciated that you only shook your head and looked back to him for an explanation, it made it quite clear you were intent on listening as much as possible. "A bot has to ask the one who's less likely to ask, and they get to say yes or no during the ceremony. I'd imagine by now you've figured out I came here to ask you to be my Amica, start the ceremony and everything, only thing stopping me is I... just don't want to."

It was the first time he'd surprised you in a long time. There had been... well, you'd been fairly certain he was leading up to something else there, and had just been nervous. You had to repeat back what he'd said in a question for clarification. "You don't want to ask me?"

"What? No! Don't put words in the mouth I don't have!" He replied vigorously, taking a step closer to your berth and throwing up his arms in total consternation. Upon seeing your comforting near smile of reasurance, he drops his claws and holds them near his face, a gesture he typically only performs when anxious. Thoughts are beginning to run wild in his head, so he knows he'll have to wrap this up before they sidetrack him, or he'll never get it done. Bless your little fleshy fuel pump for wanting to comfort him, but there just isn't time for that. "What I'm trying to get across here, or say or whatever, is that I want to but I shouldn't..."

"Ah... why shouldn't you? Does me being a human make it... illegal?" You ask, finally getting an inkling as to what's going on. As usual, his burying of the lede means you're far less shocked than you should be now that he's actually getting to the point, but you want to use that to stay calm. Whirl has been a dear friend to you, as protective as could be from the moment he decided he liked you. The least you can do is be what he needs by letting him talk things out in a way that works for him, even if it feels so much easier to cut to the chase; you'd love to be his Amica no matter the hurdles.

"You and I both know that would only make it better. Illegal friendship? Sounds more like an endorsement than a deterrent to me." It's hard for him not to laugh at the very idea. If this was actually against some law? Oh, how very different things would be... Somehow he'd feel okay then, perhaps because this would just be another of his crazy ideas, and not something sentimental and completely irreconcilable with who he was. Previously upright antenna drooped low at the disappointment. "But... no, no such luck. It's not illegal for me to ask you, just stupid, because you're going to say no."

Suddenly so many things made sense, but in the shock of sadness that followed you couldn't help but speak, your own disappointment showing through. "I am?"

"Well of course you are! That little pink glob between your ears is smart enough to know better! If you were most saps, sure, you'd probably say yes because oooh friendship, but the fact that you're sensible enough to say no is exactly why I want to ask!" He replied, sounding emphatic instead of angry. Despite being a master at appearing mad for the sake of self defense, he can't bring himself to appear anything but... sad. Every part of him is wilting from the sadness that's clocking in early. Because you have to say no, that's just how this works, and his resignation to that fact is clear no matter how badly he wishes it wasn't true. "Believe me, I know what smart looks like. I know what sensible looks like. Most people have a terrible deficit of the two, but not... not you. That's what makes you worth asking, and also worth saying no. Weird, huh?"

Your heart is breaking, somewhat for you, but mostly for him. Did he really think he was unworthy of friendship? Of any kind of love? Clearly you were his best friend, but in the fog of self loathing clouding his vision, he's convinced himself that it has to end now that he truly feels he isn't alone. "Whirl..."

Venting in sharply, like a human sucking in a breath to hold off tears, he perks up and gestures a claw back over his shoulder. "Look, I'm just going to save us both some drama and skip to the part where you kick me out. Since I'm nice, I'll even pretend you're big enough to actually do it. I'll throw myself into the hallway and everything, really seal-"

"Whirl." You say softly, knowing that yelling won't help but desperate to keep him from leaving. It works, but he pretends to be interested in the floor, crouching like he's preemptively flinching away from a hit. It's not the first time you've seen him do this. Coming to understand the big bot had been more natural for you than most, but had still taken effort, and in all the trial and error you'd learned he just needed things phrased a little differently. Thus, you decided to give what you'd learned a final trial.

"Can I at least... actually get a chance to say no?"

It was just indirect enough to immediately catch his attention, but his wounded look remained unchanged, like he didn't dare hope.

"Any particular reason why?" He asked, tilting his helm as if you've piqued his interest with a daring and devilish scheme. There's a lot going on behind his optic, but you're unflinching as he levies it back on you, smiling to emphasize you have nothing to hide.

"It's... well, it's not really fair for you to decide something for me, is it? Even if you know what the answer will be, shouldn't I get the chance to make that choice myself in the moment?"

He clacks his claws together to imitate snapping fingers. "Damn it all, you're a clever little fleshy, I'll give you that. Appealing to my peerless sense of justice for self determination to get your way." The mask of neutrality is razor thin, and beneath it he's anything but calm. None of this is going the way he planned. Far from casting him out, you're encouraging him to go through with this, but why? You can't actually plan to say yes, so why all this fuss? It's not in you to set him up, but he can't bring himself to hope he has a chance at the impossible... So he just plays along like it's all a game, albeit a very sad one, and one he intends to play carelessly. "If you... I'll give you the way to say no and the way to say yes, okay? That way you'll... really mean it when you say no."

"I promise I'll mean it." You say, wishing so badly he'd believe you wanted his friendship. It'd be so much easier than coordinating with him to give you a chance to accept his Amica proposal. Yet you know his manner of processing can't be argued with, so instead you just keep going, praying he'll let you have a chance to show how much you care. "But I need to know how it all works."

"Well, I'll say some fancy words, show my spark, all that mushy stuff most folks love." He waves his claws about, as if to brush away the silliness of the ceremony right there. The idea of baring a spark surprises you, but you keep quiet, focused only on getting through to the part he's convinced himself won't happen. Even as he continues his pessimistic prediction is obvious in his tone. "Then, when I've said my piece and pause, you just say "I refuse" and it's all over, we don't have to talk again, I'll leave and..."

If you were close enough you'd have laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but thankfully your silent look of encouragement does the job, and he overlaps his wrists whilst looking away.

"But if you were going to say yes, hypothetically, then after my pause you just go quiet and... put your little digits on mine... Then repeat after me when I say "today, tomorrow and always" to wrap it up. But since that isn't happening, let's just get this over with, eh?"

It's the flattest one of his jokes has ever fallen. For all his skill keeping his feelings reigned in, even he can't prevent a little bit of intimidation slipping through. It's impossible not to be afraid, because he wants so badly to hope, but he knows what happens when he does... Still, he wants to at least get it over with, and he gathers himself just as you give your final encouragement with a smile.

"Lets."

Clearing his vents, it occurs to him that he's never been more self conscious than he is right now, which is an unfortunate feeling to prelude him baring his spark.

The soft glow fills the room as he shifts back his chest plating, revealing the orb of his "soul" as you'd once called it, and he internally admits that your quiet expression of awe gives him the boost he needs to start. "I bid you stand in the glow of my spark... so um, that you may feel the heat of my words and k-know them to be true."

It's arguably one of the only times he's ever stuttered, and while you don't react, he's never felt more foolish. Was it not enough for him to make a spectacle out of himself just by doing this? Did he really have to butcher the whole process too? Feeling dizzy, he forces his voicebox to try and start making words again. He's painfully aware of how ridiculous he looks; one eyed, mangled screw up trying to be sentimental... But darn it all, he made a commitment. Putting his claws beside his spark, he kept going into what he knew would be a bitter end.

"I invite you to receive my light and in doing so become my Amica Endura—from now until forever."

He doesn't realize he's at the end until he runs out of words. The fear and helplessness that follow are akin to the level he'd experience falling off a cliff with no flight to save him, and for an eternity he's left floundering in anticipation of the impact. This is supposed to be it, the moment you turn him away and rightfully go forward in life, better off for having left him. But you're quiet. Your words of dismissal aren't forthcoming, and your soft and somewhat sad little smile doesn't indicate that he should expect them. But why not?! Why won't you say them?! What could you possibly hope to gain by accepting?

You hardly dare to breathe as you wait for him to begin the next phase. The glow of his spark illuminates everything, allowing you to see the fear in every inch of his being, particularly his lone expressive optic. He doesn't want to believe you're saying yes, as much as he treasures you, he just can't believe you'd ever feel the same about him. But you do, and you try to communicate that with every fiber of your being. You want to be friends with him through anything that may come, and you pray that he can see the depth of your conviction in your eyes.

Something like a hiccup shakes his shoulders. You haven't refused him. It's been almost a minute, the light of his spark fluttering as the sheer power of his emotions coursed through it, namely his disbelief that any of this could be real. Something like relief but a million times stronger makes his vents hitch. He's still processing the turn of events when he remembers he has more to say.

"Ah... Y/N... for you... um... for your acceptance..." He croaks, trying to keep an accursed tear from leaving his optic by briefly tilting back his helm. You're similiarly affected, but you let yourself sniffle and shed a few tears as he approaches with his claws out to you. They're big enough that even a semblance of holding hands isn't really possible, but you grab the tip of each and squeeze regardless, knowing the sentiment is still quite clear. You're his friend, and you always will be, through thick and thin. Now he's finally starting to see that too.

He doesn't fully have a grasp on the fact that this is real, but he doesn't care about that as much as he should. You were his Amica Endura, his dearest friend, and you somehow liked him enough that all the baggage was worth it. With one of your tiny hands on each of his clawtips, he finished the ceremony. Each word felt light as a feather when he spoke it. "As you are to me, may I be to you—today, tomorrow, and always."

"Today, tomorrow, and always." You echo, meaning it with everything you are. There's no grand finale, but the emotion in his optic and quivering antenna is more impressive than any supernova. He doesn't seem to want to pull his claws away as he shifts his chest plating back into position, and you're happy to oblige, keeping a solid hold on his claws as if your tiny body is his lifeline.

"You didn't say no." He says as the glow of his spark disappears. It's a tone for a statement but he obviously wants it to be a question, and he only keeps it from being one because he's still too overwhelmed to ask that many yet.

You can't help but sniffle as you try to sound confident. "Of course I didn't."

"We're still friends." He says softly, closing his claws together so incredibly gently around your hands, letting the two of you be a little more connected as he marvels at his luck. Of all the squishies in the galaxy, this trip had led him to you, the one who made him happier than anything. Despite all sense you loved him, and he loves you back, and the two of you would get to keep on adventuring after this. You smile as you repeat your vow to make your dedication clear.

"Today, tomorrow, and always."

Those words strike a tender chord in his still sensitive spark, for you to believe them so confidently you'll repeat them with ease, and he's promoted to react on a whim.

"Can we hug?"

"Hug?"

"Is there an ech-" The rapid fire reflex of a joke fades out in the face of his genuine and unheard of desire for a bit of tender contact. Releasing your hands, he opens his arms to make his point clear, and is delighted when you start nodding even before he's done asking. "Yes, if you don't mind... okay? Okay."

It's more of a hug for you than him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzle against his helm to show affection, feeling him wrap as much of his gangly frame around you as possible without risking any kind of damage. While this may not be the first time he's initiated something like this, it's one of very few rare occasions, and thus you know this is special. You can feel how badly he wants the comfort through the ease he shows at your touch.

"You want to stay like this for a bit?" You ask gingerly, getting settled so you can stay comfortable for a few minutes cuddled up to him.

"Mhmm." He says softly, admitting to himself that hugs might actually be worth the fuss after all. Tiny hands reassuringly pat his shoulder, encouraging him to stay in place while he basks in this single perfect moment. He hadn't dared to hope you'd still be friends after this, but here you were, your little body holding and comforting him as if he wasn't several times your size. Funny thing, that fate, eh?

"Take your time."

"Y/N?" He whispers softly into the quiet, wanting to say one final thing before taking a few minutes to enjoy your company.

"Hm?"

There's a tiny pause before he holds you close with one final statement.

"Thanks."

[hecallsmehischild]

Recent Media Consumed

Books

The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien. About ten or fifteen years ago, I tried to read this and was totally overwhelmed by it. I kept it around, hoping maybe someday I might be able to read it. I finally have, and here are my impressions: WHY SO MANY NAMES. WHY YOU HAVE TO NAME EVERYBODY, AND EVERY TRIBE OF PEOPLES, AND EVERY INANIMATE OBJECT, AND EVERY LANDSCAPE FEATURE. WHY. *ahem* So. I have a general comprehension of the events of The Silmarillion, but I dealt with it by doing what you do for an impressionist painting. I (mentally) stepped way back and let all the names flow by me, and if there were names that were repeated a lot, then I mentally attached appropriate plot points and character details to those names so I could track with who they were and what they were doing. And, actually, I found myself able to hang on and enjoy the book for the most part. This is going to lead into a re-reading of the Lord of the Rings books, since I haven’t read those in about as long…

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. I haven’t read some of these books since pre-teen years, with one required re-read of The Two Towers in high school (i.e. it’s been many an age since I’ve read these and my memory of the stories has been far more heavily influenced by the movies). In re-reading the first book, I was struck by the extreme tone shift for the Elves and Dwarves. Elves seem much closer to happy, mischievous fairies than these ethereal, solemn pillars of elegance and grace the movies show them to be. And Dwarves are far more bumbling and craftsmanlike than the movies show. Aside from that, The Hobbit was a pretty solid adaptation from the book, and the book also reminded me that this story was the first time I experienced “NO, MAIN CHARACTERS DON’T DIE, HOW DARE YOU,” and probably was the first book to make me cry. I must have been 8 or 10 years old. I FORGOT HOW MUCH THIS STORY INFLUENCED ME.

A Conflict of Visions by Thomas Sowell. I have a longer-than-usual list of things to say about this book. First is that it was just that level of difficult that I was struggling to understand while reading it (on Audible), but I think I got it. Sowell has several base concepts that I see repeated throughout his books, though he does like to dedicate whole books to specific aspects of the same topic. He is pretty damn thorough that way. So, for example, I would put this book in the middle of a three-book spectrum of similar concepts: Intellectuals and Society (most concrete and easiest to read), A Conflict of Visions (next-level abstraction, a little difficult to read), Knowledge and Decisions (root abstract concept, very difficult, I have not been able to get past chapter 2). The second thing I have to say is about a couple interesting concepts it proposes. Its whole point is to help readers understand the roots of two ways of seeing the world that come into severe conflict politically, and he calls them by their root titles: the constrained and the unconstrained visions. He traces the path of each back through the intellectuals that most spoke of them (tending to contrast Adam Smith with William Godwin and Condorcet). Though he leans heavily toward the constrained vision (based on reading his other works) he does his best to make this book an academic study of both, with both of the visions' strengths and flaws and reasoning and internal consistencies fairly laid out. In doing so, he helped me understand a few things that make this situation really difficult for people on opposing sides to communicate. One of them is that root words and concepts literally mean different things to different people. I had some vague notion of this before, but he laid out three examples in detail: Equality, Power, and Justice. It was kind of astounding to see just how differently these three words can be defined. It makes me think that arguing about any specific issues rooted in these concepts is fruitless until first an understanding has been reached on terms, because otherwise two parties are endlessly talking past each other. Another really interesting idea he brought up is the existence of “hybrid visions” and he named both Marxism and Fascism as hybrid visions. This was especially fascinating to me because I have seen the accusation of “Nazi” flung around ad nauseam and I wondered how it was that both sides were able to fling it at each other so readily. Well, it’s because Fascism is actually a hybrid vision, so both sides have a grain of truth but miss the whole on that particular point. In any case, this was a little difficult to read but had some fascinating information. For people who are wondering what on earth this gap is between political visions, how on earth to bridge the gap, or why the gap even exists in the first place, this is a really informative piece.

Movies

The Hobbit & Fellowship trilogies (movies). I mean, it’s definitely not my first watch, not even my second. But I went through it with Sergey this time and that means the run-time is double because we pause to talk and discuss details. This watch came about partly due to Sergey’s contention that Gandalf’s reputation far outstrips his actual powers, so we ended up noting down every instance of Gandalf’s power to see if that was true. Conclusion: Gandalf is actually a decently powerful wizard, but tends to use the truly kickass powers in less-than-dire circumstances. That aside, this movie series was always a favorite for me. I rated The Hobbit trilogy lower the first time I saw it but, frankly, all together the six movies are fantastic and a great way to sink deep into lore-heavy fantasy for a while. And I’m catching way more easter-egg type details after having read the Silmarillion so it’s even more enjoyable. (finally, after about a week of binge-watching) I forgot how much this story impacted me. I forgot how wrenchingly bittersweet the ending is. I forgot how much of a mark that reading and watching this story left on my writing.

Upside-Down Magic. Effects were good. Actors were clearly having fun and enjoying everything. Story didn’t make enough sense for my taste, but it was a decent way to kill flight time.

Wish Dragon. So, yes, it’s basically an Aladdin rewrite, but it’s genuinely a cheesy good fluff fest that made me grin a whole lot.

Plays

Esther (Sight and Sound Theatres). < background info > This is my third time to this theatre. There are only two of these in existence and they only run productions of stories out of the Bible. The first time I went I saw a production of Noah, the second time I saw a production of Jesus. My middle sister has moved all the way out to Lancaster, PA in hopes of working at this theatre. My husband and I came out to visit her. < /background info > So. Esther. They really pulled out all the stops on the costumes and set. I mean, REALLY pulled out all the stops. And the three-quarters wrap-around stage is used to great effect. I tend to have a general problem of not understanding all the words in the songs, but I understood enough. I highly recommend sitting close to the front for immersive experiences. This theatre puts on incredible productions and if you ever, ever, EVER have the opportunity to go, take it. Even if you think it's nothing but a bunch of fairy tales, STILL GO. I doubt you'll ever see a fairy tale produced on another stage with equal dedication to immersion.

Shows

The Mandalorian (first two seasons). Well. This was pretty thoroughly enjoyable. It felt very Star-Wars, and I’d kind of given up after recent movies. Felt like it slipped into some preaching toward the end? Not sure, I could be overly sensitive about it, but I enjoyed this a lot (though I did need to turn to my housemate and ask where the flip in the timeline we were because I did NOT realize that the little green kid IS NOT ACTUALLY Yoda).

Games

Portal & Portal 2. Portal is probably the first video game I ever tried to play, back when I had no idea what I was doing. Back then, I attempted to play it on my not-for-gaming Mac laptop. Using my trackpad. Once the jumping-for-extra-velocity mechanic came into play, I just about lost my mind trying to do this with a trackpad and gave up. Later I returned to the game and played it with my then-boyfriend on a proper gaming computer. Now, after having played several games and gotten better at "reading the language" of video games, I decided I wanted to see if I could beat the Portal games by myself. Guess what. I BEAT 'EM. Yes, I remembered most of the puzzles in Portal so that's a little bit of a cheat, but I'd say a good 2/3 of Portal 2 was new puzzles to me. It is crazy how proud I feel of myself that I could beat Portal 2, especially. Learning how to play video games at this age has really knocked down the lie, "You can't learn anything." Though I still suck at platformers and games that require precision. Since I find those types frustrating, I probably won't be playing many. Games are about enjoyment, so I'll push myself a little, but not to the point where I can't stand what I'm playing.

The Observer. I like the concept and the art but I don't think I could keep trying to play this game. It's really depressing. My in-game family members all died of illness or accident or committed suicide. I also kept getting executed by the state. In order to keep us all alive I'd have to do pretty terrible things that I have a hard enough time contemplating even in a fictional setting.

Baba Is You. Fun and interesting concept, but I got stuck pretty early on. Don't think I want to push as hard on this one.

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

prompt: Undercover

hosts: @bend-me-shape-me, @helianthus21, @pray4jensen

Dean has been undercover for many times in his life.

FBI agent, Homeland Security officer, reporter, janitor, gym teacher, lunch lady, maintenance guy, minister, private detective, and so on and so on. The list is so long that he's actually more familiar with playing a role when interacting with strangers than being himself.

So when they're on yet another case again and Sam calls him from the local library and tells him to dress up Dean doesn't even think about questioning it.

“Your fanciest clothes,” Sam orders, making it pretty clear there should be no discussion about it. “Designer suit, shiny shoes. And a shave because you're starting to look like a hobo.”

Dean barely lifts an eyebrow. “What do you need me to be? A snobby multimillionaire too good for this world.”

“The snobbiest,” Sam agrees. “It needs to look like the stench of money is following you everywhere.”

And so Dean does as he's told.

A while ago he got himself one of those super expensive Armani or whatever outfits for a case (thanks to Charlie's unlimited credit card no problem at all) and has it stashed in the depths of Baby's trunk ever since. It's only been used once so far considering fake FBI agents or journalists are rarely dressed in designer suits. At least not if they don't want to draw too much unwanted attention to them.

Dean isn't exactly sure the damned thing still fits after all that time, but after a quick shower and shave he gives it a try and finds himself pleasantly surprised when the suit still wraps itself over his body like a glove. Only around the hips it got a bit tight, but if he'd refrain from bending over it should be fine.

And it actually makes his ass look extra great, Dean has to admit. He snaps a quick picture of it and sends it to Cas because he can't help himself. Cas answers immediately with a long string of enthusiastic emojis that are both incredibly sweet, involving lots of hearts, as well as highly inappropriate and Dean loves him even more for it.

He makes a mental note to wear that suit the next time they'll be alone to see how fast the angel would be able to rip the clothes off his body and then he heads out to meet with Sam.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a jewelry store, with his tall mountain of a brother waiting at the entrance. He is dressed in fancy clothes as well and considering he left their motel room a few hours ago just with his usual plaid attire he obviously went shopping in the meantime. The suit doesn't fit a hundred percent in some places, making it obvious this was a rather quick shopping trip with no time for a proper fitting, but it makes him nonetheless look extra posh too.

“We look good,” Dean remarks with a grin as he stops next to Sam. “Like we could buy all of the world in a heartbeat and still have a couple of millions left as pocket money.”

Sam merely huffs with a fond smile. “If you say so.”

“So what is the situation?” Dean asks, pointing at the store.

“I just got a lead that our annoying spirit might have a connection to a wristband that's on display here,” Sam tells him. “It had belonged to her before she died. And I know it's not much, but I wanna check it out anyway.”

That specific spirit had been annoying them for days now because they were unable to figure out what kept her here in the first place. So Dean will take any lead they can get, no matter how small.

“I'm actually not very optimistic,” Sam explains with a sigh. “But our ghost is showing up here in the area, so it's not a total longshot. We just need to get inside and distract the employees a little.”

“Hence the fancy clothes.” Dean nods in understanding. He highly doubts they would've even gotten past the security guard on the door in their usual jeans. Most likely even their regular FBI suits wouldn't have been good enough.

“So we just go inside and one of us pretends to be a customer while the other subtly checks out that wristband?” Dean asks nonetheless.

Sam nods. “Don't worry, I have a plan.”

Dean blinks, but has no time for further questioning since Sam's already shoving him through the gigantic front door. He's instantly greeted with lots of bling and bright lights and the absolute perfect room temperature (like seriously, did they hire a guy just to keep a close eye on that the entire time?) before getting pushed to the main counter where a blonde woman with a way too wide smile happily waits to bury her flawlessly manicured nails into those new  potential buyers.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice as melodic and perfect as the air in the store. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, we've got an important purchase to make,” Sam announces, sounding all kinds of pompous. “Because you see, my brother here,” he grabs Dean's shoulders and grins at him with such an intensity Dean can't help feeling wary all of a sudden, “he intends to propose to his boyfriend.”

Dean blinks rapidly.

What?

Okay, Dean certainly didn't expect that.

The woman – Marlene, as her name tag tells them – seems taken aback by that for a moment as well, but she picks herself up much quicker than Dean. Her smile increases a few thousand watt while she turns toward the groom-to-be. “This is wonderful. Congratulations!”

Dean feels a bit like he's been hit right in the face, out of nowhere.

Thankfully he is actually used to unexpected violent attacks and has learned fairly early to deal with them.

“Um … thanks,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heating up.

Marlene apparently misinterprets his awkward fumbling for adorable shyness or whatever and looks at him like she's ready to adopt him right here on the spot.

“You have to excuse him, this is still a bit much for him,” Sam leaps back into the conversation. “He's been thinking about this moment for years and I guess it might be a tad surreal that it's finally happening.”

“Really?” Marlene seems truly intrigued hearing that.

“Yeah,” Sam sighs way too dramatically, “Dean's basically been thinking about marrying Cas since the first moment they met.”

Well.

Actually his first meeting with Cas was more like Dean having a sudden realization á la, “Wow, he's hot!” and then stabbing the guy in the chest.

But Dean refrains from pointing that one out.

It might have ended in those people declaring them insane and kicking them out of the store. And though Dean is used to the first, he doesn't need the latter right now.

“Dean just wants everything to be perfect,” Sam points out, sounding exactly like a guy who is used to getting what he wants. “It's a big day.”

“It most certainly is,” Marlene agrees, dollar signs already flashing up in her eyes. “We have a vast collection of engagement rings and I'm sure we will find something to your liking.”

“Money is not the issue,” Sam says those magic words that make Marlene even more excited, so it seems. “The bigger and more extravagant, the better.”

Marlene smiles widens, appearing incredibly sweet and harmless on the surface. But Dean knows a predator focusing on its prey when he sees it.

On instinct he actually wants to take a step back and hide, but instead he gathers enough courage to meet her smile. It's still somewhat wobbly, but she probably blames it on his alleged nervousness about that big change in his life.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about your Cas?” she prods him. “What is he like?”

Dean shoots a quick glance at his brother, cursing him for having to endure this in the first place, before clearing his throat and responding, “He's … um, awesome.”

Way to go, Winchester.

She is certainly swooning on the spot.

Dean winces inwardly and forces himself to get a little bit more into his role. After all, he is used to the undercover life, so this shouldn't be too hard.

For a minute there he even considers to lie about Cas' personality, wondering whether that would make it easier to talk about him to a total stranger, but as he's just about to come up with some made-up character traits, he hears himself saying, “Well, to be fair, he's an asshole.”

Marlene looks at him in surprise while Sam in the background rolls his eyes.

“Uh … okay?” Marlene answers, clearly not sure how to reply to that.

“Cas is grumpy,” Dean goes on, now a fond smile flickering over his features. “I'm quite certain he is the biggest grump in the history of mankind, to be honest. And he's way too sassy for his own good. Also he has no idea how to clean up after himself and he always hums those annoying jingles he heard on the radio or whatever. All day. I'm actually surprised I haven't gone mad many years ago.”

Or maybe he has.

With his life, who could tell?

“But he's also a badass,” Dean continues, registering the only other employee who's been lacking any customers at the moment sliding closer with clear interest in her eyes. “No one should dare to screw around with him. And the few that actually did regretted it pretty quickly.”

That's, of course, an understatement actually, but he won't go into much detail now. For those poor women's sanity.

“And he cares, so much,” Dean goes on, an affectionate smile settling on his face when his thoughts drift closer to Cas. It's an automatic response at this point and he's pretty sure it'll stay like that for the rest of his life. “Even about that stupid little fly that got lost into our room a couple of weeks ago. It feels like we spent hours catching that thing and releasing it back into the wild. But what could you have done, you know? Cas would've been miserable if that fly would've died inside and that's something nobody wants to see. Believe me. He looks like a kicked puppy when he's sad.”

The salesladies scoots even closer, captivated by Dean gushing over his boyfriend. While Sam subtly starts to step back a little and check out the rest of the display, trying to locate the wristband of their obnoxious ghost.

Dean clears his throat, despite still feeling like he's been thrown into icy water without any warning whatsoever by his traitorous brother more than determined to play this role like their lives depend on it. After all, there here and they might not get a second chance.

So Dean gives it all he's got.

“So yes, Cas, he's great,” he says. “He's been my best friend for such a long time now and I … I guess I want him at my side for the rest of my life. And even beyond that.”

Dean smiles at the image of sharing his Heaven with Cas one day. It might be a hassle to get there at first – after all, Cas' relationship with his brethren is still not the best –, but Dean has no doubt that it'll come true eventually. Cas is way too much of a stubborn son of a bitch to not see this through.

Dean blinks as he suddenly realizes that he is in fact beginning to fantasize about Cas by his side forever as a real possibility.

Huh.

“As mentioned, we have a vast collection of engagement rings to help you start this new chapter of your life,” Marlene says with a happy sigh. “We would be more than happy to help you with your endeavor.”

Dean stares at her for a moment.

Oh right. Rings. The case.

“Yes, right,” he mutters, a slight blush on his face now. “It … it needs to be perfect.”

Marlene and her colleague – Amanda, as her name tag tells him – immediately spur into action and for the next ten minutes Dean sees himself confronted with a huge variety of different rings in all shapes and forms. A few are actually quite simple and elegant – silver bands with a couple of nice highlights – and some are seriously so over-the-top pompous and big Dean has no idea how a normal human being should be able to wear that on their hand.

But he smiles at them all and fakes such exaggerated interest both Marlene and Amanda seem to believe they're in Heaven themselves.

And it seems like a freaking eternity until Sam pops up next to him again.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he jumps right into their enthusiastic conversation. “My girlfriend just texted me. Her doctor's appointment ended way earlier than expected and I need to pick her up.”

A blatant lie, of course, considering Eileen is back at the bunker with Cas, probably getting her ass beaten in every single board game invented by the best of all strategists Heaven has ever produced.

“But don't worry, Dean will be back shortly,” Sam promises right away as both Marlene and Amanda look rather crestfallen at those news. “After all, Dean can't wait to get married.”

They bid hasty goodbyes and are soon enough back on the streets again.

“So, any luck?” Dean asks when he's starting to remember the real reason why they went into the store in the first place.

“I found the wristband,” Sam admits. “But there's no suspicious energy to it. It's just jewelry.”

“Damn,” Dean sighs. “Well, it was worth a shot, at least.”

“Yeah …”

“And that was one hell of a cover story, Sammy,” Dean can't help pointing out for some reason.

Sam shoots him a quick glance, something intense flickering over his features.

“It wasn't though, right?” he asks in the end. “A cover story, I mean. Not really, at least.”

Dean frowns. On first instinct he wants to deny that, just wants to scoff at his brother's face and get on with his life, but then he thinks about Cas and how nice he would look with a ring on his finger and he finds himself lowering his gaze to cover up the flush on his cheeks.

“Uh … well, maybe it wasn't really a cover story after all,” he admits, his voice low, yet steady.

“So you want to go back?” Sam wonders, a smile on his lips. “ Look at those rings again? When this case is over and everything.”

Dean blinks. A few of those rings actually did look kind of awesome, if he's honest with himself. And sure, they're pretty expensive, but also very durable (an important feature in their line of work), and Dean surely didn't lie when he said that Cas only deserves the best.

So he finds himself muttering, “Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind going back” and feels rather good about it.

Seems like Dean seriously has an important purchase to make after all.

[obeymeluv]

Hi lovely! I’m not sure if your requests are open but I just worked out for the first time since ive gotten super depressed! It might not be that big of a deal but can I get some geadcannons on how the brothers would react to this? (: (their lover working out for the first time in months because of their mental illness)

I respect this so hard and am super proud of you. I have similar struggles so it always makes me happy to see someone able to get back up. Good job :) These headcanons will be short because I’m getting ready for bed and have to get into school mode, but here you go! ♥ 

Lucifer

It wasn’t uncommon for him to wake you up, or even gently start the day by sitting at your bedside and whispering sweet nothings

He opens the door soundlessly, as always, and is quite surprised to see you in the middle of doing a yoga series. Thankfully, your back is to the door

Pride blossoms in his chest and, for the first time, it doesn’t feel heavy like the burden of his sin

It’s warm and joyful and feels like an old memory of the Celestial Realm, a call back to happier days

His eyes mist over a bit but no one can confirm it

Lucifer is a perfect, beautiful statue that watches for a few poses before slowly inching back towards the doorway to peek around the corner

Pretends like he never saw anything when you go about the rest of your day, but is absolutely glowing when he looks at you.

Lavishes you in his fancy praise, as always. (”You look enchanting, my love. Simply radiant today.”)

Mammon

He’ll deny it to the day he dies, but he craves your company.

Actually, he’s more likely to admit it when you’re in a depressive episode because you’re tender and vulnerable and that’s how he really is when he lets his guard down. That’s when people need the most love, and you’ve put him back together so much that he wants to repay the favor 1,000x fold

Mammon’s very surprised to see you running careful laps up one set of stairs and down the set on the other end of the hallway (that explains why it took him so long to find you).

It’s like speed walking. He watches for a lap and a half to make sure you’re not rushing off anywhere. You know, making sure nothing’s serious

When he realizes you’re exercising in earnest he’s super stoked. Like, #1 hype man.

“That’s my human! Yeah!” Mammon becomes your cheerleader

Drops sly comments about how it’s actually a good glute workout and he’ll give you a massage afterwards

Keeps up with you more than you’d expect (models train hard, okay?) but does get bored. Maintains cheer position

Carries you around the rest of the day when your legs are sore

Levi

Levi had to do a fair bit of research on depression when he realized you weren’t converting to being a fellow otaku shut-in

The two of you still enjoyed cuddle times, and sometimes he could engage you in games, but the health of his beloved was important! Humans couldn’t be without exercise for too long or it would be bad for them

It’s super awkward but he tries to invite you swimming and things. Sometimes you just don’t have the energy. He understands, and is totally down for cuddling you (with partial back rubs) while playing games

Makes sure you eat and definitely splits his rations

Enjoys the small walks from his room to yours, and makes sure you guys drift between them a couple of times a day. That helps humans, right?

Levi realizes fairly quickly that you haven’t been to his room in a while and goes to check on you

You’re hopping in patterns across the floor, slowly making your way to his room.

You look like you’re having fun!

He’s not sure what you’re doing, but you hop, you squat, then you lunge.

You lock eyes with Levi mid-lunge and wobble a bit. He’s a little pink in the face, but because he’s laughing in sheer delight at how spooked you looked.

You end up flopping over and Levi crouches beside you, offering his hand

When he hears you finally had a burst of energy and wanted to work out, to start over again, he’s very proud of you

May or may not have compared you to Henry and shared some of the more harrowing moments the hero went through (also how he’s awesome and came back better than ever!)

Invites you for a swim and you actually accept

After some laps and splashing about, you spend time floating and cuddling

Satan

Depression is sometimes just a thing humans go through, Satan is finding out.

Between Devildom books and human books, he kind of understands

It’s a thing of time, and sometimes other methods help. He personally thinks the lack of sun in the Devildom is the main culprit

Gives you healthy snacks and tracks down vitamins

Tries to get you to walk the gardens but realizes he can’t force it

Sometimes he gets you outside, reading under trees and lanterns

Satan roamed the House of Lamentation, intending to steal you for another outside reading session, and was surprised to find you out there already

He watched from a high window, peeking tentatively from behind the thick curtain, and let the amused smile cut his lips

Suddenly, you disappeared out of sight. Satan waited for what felt like ages until the logic of ‘the fastest way between Point A and B is a straight line’ kicked in. He held his book carefully, unlatched the window, and jumped out

Demons have good joints and sturdier bodies. The drop and landing was nothing for him.

He calls your name and starts walking around.

It’s not until he’s made a full lap and you’re giggling (behind him somehow?) that he realizes you’re just leisurely walking laps around the house

Super embarrassed that he got worried (and that you ended up behind him). Jumps when you touch his shoulders or if you hugged him around the waist

You’re happy and...yourself for the first time in a while and Satan’s heart is so happy. Before you can break the hug, he twines his fingers with yours and just holds your hand to his body

Eventually you break away, kiss his shoulders, and start a game of tag that turns into sky-watching, and laying on his chest as he reads 

Asmodeus

He knows how to break hearts but he ALSO knows how to fix him

He’s always trying to get his brothers to hang out and make good memories. Despite what he says and how he acts, he really cares for them from the bottom of his heart

You count, too. You’re like, top tier. Basically family. VIP space. Maybe SPOUSE space (but that’s too fast for a human, right?)

Though rare and private, Asmo has his bad days, too. They can either be fixed, or they can’t. Usually things are just distractions. The heart will heal in its own time.

Asmo went to your room with the latest round of pampering but stopped short of announcing himself. Does he hear...music?

Nudging the door open with his foot, his eyes light up so pink the gradient is disappearing.

You’re dancing and humming, making faces at yourself in the mirror.

His heart clenches with a beautiful pain because you’re so vibrant and lively and he knows it was hard for you to find this again

The pampering is abandoned for an impromptu PRIVATE dance party

Silly and sweet things, waltzing and just being close, hugging as you sway side to side

Lots of forehead kisses and pet names.

Beelzebub

He didn’t think your behavior was out of the ordinary since Belphie slept a lot.

Beel is always motivated by something--food, sports, working out, family stuff--so he’s not familiar with the lack of desire to do anything

When he learns you’re not just catching up on sleep and you might be having a rough time, he asks Lucifer and Satan what to do

They decide you should work out. That releases endorphins in humans and that sounds like what you need!

The attempts don’t go well, but you’ll at least come out of your room and be a resistance weight for him

Beel went into the weight room to do some pre-warm up exercises. He was mentally planning his reps and figuring out what muscle groups were on the schedule when he heard the clinking of weights

His brothers had other ways of working out so that meant only one person could be in the weight room

Beelzebub stamped down the urge to rush in and watch you in all your occupied glory, reminding himself you could drop a weight on yourself (or worse)

His purr gives him away

He’s proud, borderline excited, and just purrs long and loud from the entryway

Jumps into the workout with you, doing light exercises

Beel gets a little playful adjusting your posture, but it’s all sweet hugs and rocking you back and forth

Regardless of what muscle groups were on the schedule for the day, it’s arm day because he’s lifting you up, throwing you a little, and catching you in his arms

Give this happy, snuggly boy some kisses  

Belphegor

He can sense your state of mind by the nature of his sin. He sleeps a lot and has a knack for telling when someone’s sleep is anything but restful

Belphegor’s not 100% sure, but he thinks he can tap into your dream space. There’s this little ball of sad-tired-something that lets him know you’re not okay

There’s quiet mini-dates that ease the sting of your sadness, but he knows it’s not enough

When he sleeps, he has dreams about you being happy and hopes he can push them into your mind

Cuddles fix things. He’s down for couple naps.

Belphegor goes in and out of sleep; it’s during one of his periods of waking that he notices you’re not there

Hugging his pillow, he shuffles about the House of Lamentation to find you

He finds you cleaning and organizing the kitchen. Cleaning is a sign of healing, right? Lots of movement?

Belphegor realizes you’re doing more than cleaning. You’re stretching and lifting things like they’re Beel’s weights

It looks time-consuming, and like you’ve been at it for a while

Belphie plonks his head on your shoulder, asking how you’re feeling. He’s got that sleepy Cheshire Cat smile

You’re just as happy as can be, happier than he’s seen you in a while, and you celebrate by stealing a bunch of snacks and making a blanket fort in his room 

Hope you liked it :)

[iturbide]

We've got an AU where Buleth jumps ship, an AU where Jeritza jumps ship...whats next, an AU where the Beagles jump ship on a CF route?

If you’re getting technical, the AU where Byleth jumps ship also includes the rest of the Black Eagles doing the same.  But if that’s not what you mean...does the Bad End AU count?  Because Edelgard’s former allies are going to be fleeing almost en masse once the Almyrans cross into Fodlan.

While it’s true that the Black Eagles stay with her through the conquest of Fodlan, within a couple years she’s forced to come clean about Those Who Slither and their part in Arianrhod’s destruction.  This is a massive breach of trust for those who followed her and shatters their confidence, not just in her but in their cause as a whole.  It’s what causes a rift to form between her and Dorothea, not to mention what prompts Bernadetta’s retreat into near-total isolation.  And she just keeps messing up, too, first putting Petra on the force rooting out Those Who Slither -- literally the most dangerous job in the Empire with the highest mortality rate -- and more or less banishing Ferdinand to Hyrm, which is horrific considering what happened to his father there.

(Fun Fact: the former Duke von Aegir’s skeletonized corpse is still mounted in the town square when Ferdie arrives, though he only recognizes it by the remnants of its clothes; he never knew what happened to his father before that moment, and he understandably feels like there’s a target on his back as the man’s son now that he’s been appointed as governor of the territory.)

When Claude and Nika sweep down from the Locket toward Myrddin, they expect that they’re going to meet a lot of resistance -- it’s why they head straight for the bridge without stopping.  But it’s a nearly painless operation, and when Lorenz comes to investigate, he basically drops any pretense of helping the Empire the second he realizes that Claude and Hilda are there.  He immediately jumps to the Almyran side, and Claude puts him in charge of guarding Myrddin with Hilda while he and Nika head north toward Derdriu with plans to push west into the Kingdom once the heart of the Alliance is out of Empire control.

Things are fairly quiet on the Alliance front while they’re gone, with one big exception: Ferdinand receives word about the disturbance, and since Hyrm is so close to the bridge, he’s ordered to dispatch troops to investigate.  Before he can, though, Lorenz sneaks out to meet him -- which is not unusual, since they’ve been meeting fairly routinely since Ferdie got banished.  Lorenz asks the nobleman to meet him at the bridge without reinforcements, and brings him in to try to explain the situation -- though he doesn’t get far before Hilda inserts herself into the conversation.  Lorenz panics because he’d been trying to avoid a confrontation but with him bringing an Imperial into the fort she’s bound to think he’s trying to betray them...and instead she chides Lorenz for not offering poor Ferdinand some tea -- and see if there’s any dinner left, he really looks like he could use a decent meal.  Ferdie, of course, is dumbfounded by the fact that Hilda is here, since she’s supposed to be dead, and more or less just fumbles through questions that she indulgently answers. 

As it happens, Claude had been expecting this situation, more or less: as soon as Lorenz came on board, he had a feeling that the acting head of House Gloucester would try to convince Ferdinand to join them, or at least stand down.  Ignatz had reported on their visits in the past, and Dorothea’s well-meaning vent to him just gave Claude more ammo to work with; Hilda had been expecting the meeting and is more than happy to back Lorenz up in offering Ferdinand protection should he choose to join them.  Ferdinand is reluctant to sign on directly, given that he is still an Imperial citizen...but he does agree not to march on Myrddin, instead relaying a request back to the capital for reinforcements since Hyrm doesn’t have a garrison capable of supplying adequate troops to take the bridge back.

Once Claude and Nika finish up in the Kingdom and push the Imperials back past the ruins of Arianrhod, the Almyran contingent returns to Myrddin and they start their push toward Gronder, “intercepting” Ferdinand on the way and bringing him into the camp because he really will need to see this.  Caspar meets them at Gronder to bar the way, since it’s his home turf...but when it’s Hilda that steps out to face him on the field, he pretty much drops his axe and surrenders to this seeming ghost from his past.  (Hilda had not expected to him to take her appearance that hard, and feels kind of bad by the time she helps him up and shoos him off the field to calm him down before he hyperventilates and passes out).  As they pass Varley territory, Claude takes a small group (including Raph) to investigate and make sure there aren’t any troops waiting to ambush their flank as they pass; they find nothing, but Raph manages to coax Bernie out of her room and brings her back to their camp, where she receives a warm welcome from everyone present.

They continue forward, taking Merceus without significant issue (and the javelins don’t fall because while the Twisted have been driven deeper into hiding, they have no reason to stop Edelgard’s enemies at this point given how she’s shown her true colors at last) and pressing on toward Enbarr.  Once there, Claude doesn’t start with fighting: he starts with an announcement to the city, unveiling the documents that prove Edelgard murdered her step-brother in cold blood on the fields of Tailtean.  Kinslaying is a very serious issue, and the news rocks the capital to its very foundation, though only Dorothea knows how exactly he got that particular piece of information.  Edelgard retreats to the throne room, calling Byleth and Dorothea to her and ordering Petra, Hubert, and the Death Knight to guard the palace grounds.

There’s no stopping Hubert or the Death Knight without bloodshed this time around, though they’re at least able to capture Petra without doing her too much harm (certainly less than she does to them, since she’s still fighting for the people she’s been kept from for almost half her life now).  Claude and Byleth cross blades, with the Almyran prince jokingly offering his gratitude to his old professor since he has a wicked scar for clout now thanks to Teach’s parting gesture.  While they would be evenly matched under normal circumstances, Byleth long ago lost their will to fight for Edelgard’s sake, and they don’t put up their usual fight, allowing Claude to disarm them; Dorothea slips away with Ignatz while the Empress’ attention is on their old professor. 

...and Lin just doesn’t bother with any of it because he’s an academic and a scientist and if he doesn’t have to fight he won’t.  He might not even realize there’s a fight going on until it’s over, but so long as he can keep up his research, he doesn’t much care who wins.