#i was thinking of that whole situation at the funeral today and i knew that it reminded me of something

[asharaxofstarfall]

daemon having sex with rhaenerya at driftmark on the day of laena's funeral is very reminiscent of rhaegar marrying lyanna in dorne

[zepskies]

Show Me - Part 1

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.

AN: Another story for the Espresso-verse! This is set after “Devour Me,” and plays on plot threads in “Midnight Espresso” and the flashbacks in “In Bad Weather.”

Word Count: 3,100

Tags/Warnings: Angst, body shaming, body insecurity, protective Dean.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: “Objects Are Closer Than They Appear”

Hunter funerals aren’t supposed to be lively affairs.

Alicia Jackson is special, however. She’s known so well throughout the hunter community that news of her death creates a kind of reunion at her mother’s house after the funeral, not unlike Asa Fox’s wake last year.

Even you had known Alicia, though not particularly well. You met her through Eileen. They’d called for your help on a ciguapa case a few months ago, and ever since, Alicia had insisted on buying you a beer anytime she was in town.

So today, Sam and Dean are really supporting you and Eileen by coming along.

Alicia’s mother, Martha, is a lovely Haitian woman in her late sixties. Her house is modest, but welcoming. She’s a gracious host to have so many rough and tumble hunters in her home.

The wake is mainly gathered in the backyard, where plastic tables and chair have been set up. Most of the hunters have collected into groups of the ones they know, sharing stories, laughing, eating, and drinking.

You’re in the kitchen with Martha, as you’ve offered to help her put out some more beers on the table outside. The smaller woman falters for a moment when she glances at a framed picture of her daughter on the wall. Alicia was beautiful, with coal-dark skin and soulful brown eyes she’d inherited from her mother.

You end up holding Martha’s hands in comfort when she nearly crumbles again. Your heart breaks for her. Even if you hadn’t been that close with Alicia, you’d hope that someone would take care of your own mother in a situation like this.

“She just has so many friends,” Martha says, with a tearful chuckle. “I never realized…”

“We try to look after each other,” you reply, smiling. “Everyone here knew your daughter, if not personally, then by reputation. And guaranteed, all of them have at least one good story to share.”

Martha nods. Somehow, she’s able to smile through her tears as she pats your hand. 

After spending a few more minutes with her, you predictably find Dean by a long table of hors d’oeuvres and desserts.

“Babe, you gotta try these mini quiche. They’re delicious,” he says, after popping another pastry into his mouth. You can see that he’s eaten nearly a whole tray while he’s been waiting for you.

“You realize we’re at a wake, not the Golden Corral,” you lightly tease. He shrugs.

“Still gotta eat, right?” he says.

His capacity for food knows no bounds, but you love him for it.

You glance over at Sam and Eileen chatting with a small group of hunters under the shade of a tree. They’re sitting close together at a picnic table. Your lips form a subtle smile, and you lean in close to Dean.

“Look at your brother, being a supportive non-boyfriend,” you say. They’ve been loosely “dating” for weeks, though you aren’t sure they’ve put an official label on what they are together.

Dean’s expression turns both fond and amused. “Think they’ve sealed the deal yet?”

You glance over at him. “What do you mean?”

“You know…” Dean waggles his brows suggestively. You do know what he means, and you playfully smack his chest. Mostly to stop him before he starts making lewd hand motions.

“Come on, that’s none of our business,” you reply. Inside though, you’re wondering the same thing.

Dean spies the look on your face and smirks.

“See. You’re curious too,” he says. He gestures at your face with the same hand that holds a bacon-wrapped cocktail weenie. You have to raise a hand to fend him off when he tries to veer it into your mouth.

“Don’t point at me with your sausage,” you quip.

“Funny. I’ve never heard that particular complaint outta your mouth before,” he smirks.

He eventually gives up on feeding you and eats it himself. His warm gaze is still on you though. You start to blush.

“Again, we’re literally at a funeral reception,” you say, despite your growing smile.

His gait becomes more flirtatious as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Like I said. We still gotta eat, don’t we?”

You splutter laughing, though you attempt to contain it behind your hand. Dean’s chuckle resonates through you when he pulls you in by your waist. His thumb brushes your hip. He’s not so much into PDA, and certainly not as “touchy” as you, but this much will do for now. You lean into him in turn.

He finishes off his umpteenth hours d’oeuvre and sets his nearly empty beer on the table. After letting loose a barely stifled belch, he mentions something about finding a bathroom.

“Dogs are already barkin’, huh?” you tease.

“Yep,” he freely admits, patting his stomach. “Give me five minutes…or ten.”

He squeezes your arm in parting before he takes off down the hall at a purposeful pace. It leaves you to contemplate the mini quiche.

Damn, they do look good. You bend over the table slightly to peruse your options, when a familiar voice drawls behind you.

“Still got a fat ass,” he teases.

You freeze. Slowly, you straighten up, and you turn to blink in surprise at the man who stands there, holding a beer and wearing a playful smile.

Yours is polite at best as you try to get through your shock.

“Carter,” you blurt out. What the hell are you doing here?

He greets you with an incline of his head. The way he says your name is both familiar, and a little unsettling.

You cross your arms and lean back on your heels. “You knew Alicia?”

“We tangled a few times,” Carter replies with a nod. His smile laces with a bit of innuendo, but his eyes have just enough heaviness to convince you that he really did have some kind of relationship with Alicia.

Oh, Ali. You could’ve done better, you think. You wish you’d known that tidbit of information when she was alive. You would’ve warned her.

“I’m sorry for your loss then,” you say. Carter nods again. A silence falls awkwardly between you two.

“Is that all we’re gonna say to each other?” he asks. “It’s been…what, a couple years?”

“Almost four,” you supply. You and Carter had ended just a few months before you met Sam and Dean, a little over three years ago now. You and Dean hadn’t started dating until last year.

“All right,” Carter says, rubbing at his chin. His gaze roams over you with a slight smile. They take you in from your high-heeled boots and jean-clad curvy thighs, to your green blouse, laced loosely in the front. You’d decided to dress a little nicer for the occasion.

“You know, you look the same,” Carter says. His head tilts. “But different somehow.”

You raise a brow. “Different?”

“Yeah, like…” He draws closer and leans on the table beside you. He sips at his beer. “Confident. Like you’re not hiding yourself anymore.”

He mimics the hunch of a turtle in its shell.

“You used to be like a little mouse sometimes,” he adds with a light chuckle.

You know he means to be teasing, but you’re not laughing. If you’re not hiding anymore, it means you’re not trying to bury yourself under shapeless clothes, along with much of your inner self.

“Don’t you think that’s a little tight?” he’d asked you once, before you two went out together. It wasn’t the first time. (And it wouldn’t be the last.)

“I’m just saying,” he would often say. “You might feel more comfortable in something a bit looser. Cover these up a little.”

You remember how he’d squeezed the softness around your sides or your stomach. You also remember a well of anxiety in your chest that had made you feel almost grotesque when you’d studied yourself in the mirror afterwards.

Objects are closer than they appear…

You remember agreeing with him. Changing clothes. Drowning yourself in crewneck shirts and breezy buttoned-downs. Always wearing pants and baggy shirts to bed. Thinking all of this was to make you comfortable, and not the man who didn’t really love you.

So now, you give him a passive look as you take Dean’s forgotten beer and finish the last sip. Carter wears a hunter’s red plaid over jeans and his old leather boots. His blonde hair is shaggy around his ears, his face a little rough with stubble, his eyes still a deep blue.

He looks exactly the same. He probably is the same.

He’s right about one thing though. You’re not the same.

“We’re not in the profession of hiding,” you finally reply. “Guess I just got tired of it.”

Carter seems to sense your shift, and maybe, what you’re really saying. His smile falls into contemplation. He crosses his arms.

“Did I spot you with one of the Winchesters earlier?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that was Dean.”

Before you can add the boyfriend part, Carter whistles lowly and shakes his head.

“I’d steer clear of them if I were you,” he says.

You quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Those two are walking hurricanes of bad luck, blood, and mayhem,” Carter says.

“You don’t even know Sam and Dean,” you counter. Your voice is sharp and your brows knit together in thinly veiled irritation. “So I suggest you shut your mouth and steer clear of me.”

You set the beer bottle a bit hard on the table and mean to brush past him. You spot Sam and Eileen again, still sitting in their same table under the tree. You aim to head over there to wait for Dean, but a hand wraps around your arm.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” Carter frowns.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” you tell him. You’re discreet in the way you try to twist your arm out of his grip. You glance around to make sure no one’s watching you two. The last thing you want to do is make a scene here, but Carter is being a stubborn ass.

Even though you manage to wrench out of his hold, he grasps your hand next to stop you from pulling away. He looks down at your hand, brushes his thumb over your skin. His gaze looks heavy, almost melancholy.

You know that funerals tend to bring out the sentimental shoulda, coulda, woulda in hunters, but you think he might be looking back on your time together with rosier glasses than he ought to be.

“Look, I'm sorry. Can’t I at least get you a drink? We can catch up,” he says.

“Consider me caught up,” you toss back. Frustration begins to set you on edge. “I don’t know why you’re pushing this. I mean, God, we weren’t even good together.”

At that, his grip tightens on your hand. Confusion and denial cross his face.

“That’s not true,” he protests.

Unbidden, you’re forced to remember the weeks you and Carter spent in Miami, where you’d met him. You remember how he’d convinced you to leave with him after his hunt was done, and to leave your family behind. A decision you regretted to this day…

You lean in closer just to whisper hotly. “You know it is. We didn’t have a relationship. We had a transaction, in which you liked what I could do for you. But you never loved me. You never even really knew me.”

At that, his hold finally loosens in his shock. You take the opportunity to slip your hand out of his. Another familiar hand rests along your lower back, and a firm wall radiates warmth behind you.

“Hey, party people,” Dean says. He gives Carter a “pleasant” smile, and you a more genuine look. You okay? it says.

You let out a subtly relieved breath and nod. “Hey, was just gonna go check on you.”

“I’m good,” Dean says. He looks over at Carter, whose expression has cooled considerably. Still, Dean inclines his head. “Hey, man.”

“Yeah,” Carter says. His tone is bland, until his gaze slides back to you.

“Don’t tell me you’re shacking up with this one now,” he says, leveling a finger at Dean. Then he gestures across the lawn, over at Sam. “Or is it the former anti-Christ over there?”

Both you and Dean bristle. Your temper has a thin fuse right now, and while you still don’t want to make a scene, you might have to make an exception.

“Why don’t you remember where the hell you are and have some decency,” you hiss. “Do us all a favor and fuck off.”

Once again, you try to walk past him. This time when Carter grabs you, it’s because he smarts at you getting the last word. A sharp breath escapes you, and Dean intervenes with a firm, warning grip on the other man’s wrist.

“Hey, you wanna act right, before you make yourself a problem?” Dean says. His face is relaxed, but behind his eyes are a very real threat. “I got no issue laying you out right here, in front of all your buddies.”

Carter has a moment of indecision. He notices a few pairs of eyes drawing their way, and so he lets go of you, even as he sneers at Dean.

“Shove the Prince Charming bit, asshole. She ain’t a damn princess,” Carter snaps. “She don’t act like one, and she definitely don’t look like one.”

You roll your eyes at his spite, but Dean can’t quite let that one slide off his back. 

His grip tightens on Carter’s wrist as he pulls him in. He pats Carter hard on the back and smiles as if they’re old friends. But really, it just gives him the vantage point to speak lowly near the man’s ear.

“All right, douchebag. Keep talking shit. I’ll bet that’s how you’ve gotten this far in life,” Dean says. “But touch her again, and I’ll break every damn bone in your hand. And maybe, I won’t stop there.”

He tilts his head, so he can see the glimmer of intimidation hidden well behind the other man’s eyes. Then Dean lets him go. He turns and lays a hand at the small of your back. The two of you fall into step together while walking across the lawn in the backyard.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly.

Dean frowns and notices the way your gaze has lowered. His hand moves around your waist and squeezes to get your attention. Without him realizing, it just reminds you of the way Carter used to point out the thicker curves on your body.

Cover these up a little.

“Hey, you okay—”

“I’m fine, Dean,” you say, easing out of his hold.

It leaves him feeling unbalanced, and a bit put out. Dean remains quiet as he follows you over to his brother’s table.

“Are you all right?” Sam asks you, discreetly, but with concern. The wake is coming to an end, and by now Dean has filled him in on your run in with your ex, Carter Hall.

You give Sam a nod and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I'm good,” you reply.

Dean is quiet. He stands beside you with his hands in his pockets. Eileen has invited you and Dean to join her and Sam at a nearby bar to keep the evening going with a few other hunters, but this has already been one hell of a day. You’re ready to make the long drive home and call it a night.

Eileen’s also agreed to take Sam home (eventually). You notice how they share smiles, how Eileen ducks her head with the beginnings of a blush. You’re happy for them, even as you and Dean part ways with a more stifled silence on the way back to the car.

It’s late, and it’s cold. You walk beside him with your arms crossed, just to brace yourself against the windchill eating through your jacket. You glance over at your boyfriend and feel a measure of remorse for the way you brushed him off earlier. You have a feeling that’s part of the reason why he’s quiet, giving you your space.

You decide to close the distance. You sidle up closer and curl your arm around his. Your hand slips into his as well, threading your fingers together with Dean’s.

He looks over at you with a slight raise of his brows. His lips quirk at a smile, and his hand tightens on yours. You’re able to give him a more sincere smile in return.   

“Can I tell you something?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dean says.

You look up at him and bite your lower lip. “I’m starving. I never did get to try those quiche.”

It only takes a moment for you to devolve into a quiet giggle. It’s infectious, and Dean laughs with you.

“Okay, we’ll stop somewhere,” he nods. Though his eyes widen in realization. “Damn, that means you haven’t eaten since, what, this morning? Before the funeral?”

You mentally count back the hours, and you have to agree with a sheepish nod. Dean shakes his head in disapproval.

“Come on, sweetheart. You should’ve said something.”

You shrug, even though you know he’s right. Your free hand curls around his bicep, and you lay your head against his arm. He looks down at the top of your head and heaves a sigh, despite his lingering smile.

Though the peace you’ve brokered is soon interrupted.

Dean had to park down the road of Martha Jackson’s house. Two cars down is Carter, who’s about to climb into his old Honda Civic.

Damn. He’s still driving the same piece of shit too, you note. His head raises, and as if he knows he’s being watched, his attention turns toward you and Dean. You don’t allow yourself to react, other than staring across the way, directly at Carter. You wait until he looks away first, opening his door and getting into his car.

You expel a breath and brush your thumb over the back of Dean’s hand.

“Let’s go,” you say.

Dean nods. He guides you toward the passenger side of the Impala, but his gaze lands beyond his car, to the Honda still parked and warming up. He finds Carter’s gaze through the front window for a moment.

It’s Carter who once again breaks first; he revs the ignition and peels onto the street, and down the road past them without looking back.

Dean's lips curve. Bitch.

Shaking his head, he rolls his shoulders and rounds the car towards the driver’s side.

He’s more than ready to go home.

AN: *sighs* Okay, originally this story was going to be a one-shot, but it just got too damn long. Let me know what you think of Dean finally meeting her ex-douchebag, Carter.

Part 2 (coming next week) will include all the angsty hurt/comfort and smut to come...

Next Time:

“I’ll just speak for myself then,” he says. His hand trails lower... “If you need me to remind you how beautiful you are, how goddamn sexy…then I got no problem showing you.”

His hand moves down the soft slopes of your body and comes to rest at the curve of your waist. Hearing your faltering breath, Dean pulls back so he can see your face.  

“Let me take care of you for a change,” he says. His lips pull at a grin, and it makes you smile in turn.

You take his face in your hands and bring him down to you for a kiss, languid and a bit devouring. It makes heat lick up Dean’s spine.

“Okay,” you whisper, close to his lips. “Show me.”

Keep Reading: PART 2

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[pensat-i-fet]

Cry wolf (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Hello! Finally, a new Rúben imagine. This is a combination of two requests I got. It's a bit angsty and dramatic. What a comeback! I hope you enjoy it ❤️**

Word count: 1944

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"Ahhh!", you yelled the moment you got inside the bathroom and saw what was on the floor. "Oh my God! What am I supposed to do?"

Saying you panicked whenever you saw any sort of insect or bug would be an understatement. You could barely stay out in the park for half an hour, worried about all the creatures that could be around you. So seeing a cockroach first thing in the morning wasn't ideal. And your boyfriend was gone. So what were you going to do?

"Ok. It's fine. I'm a grown woman and can do this".

You kept convincing yourself that you could kill it and so you put your shoes on, walked inside the bathroom again and spotted the disgusting thing that was still there. Placing your fingers inside your ears, you stepped on it, took your shoe off without lifting it from the floor and left the bathroom. There was one in the guest room you could use.

After a shower, you put some clothes on and called Rúben. He was at the gym but it was still early, so you knew his official training session hadn't started.

"Hi, everything ok?"

It was very unlike you to call him this early. You usually just send a text before going to work. "It is now. But there is a corpse in the bathroom".

"A what?", he laughed.

"There was a cockroach and I killed it".

"Are you planning on doing a funeral? Throw it in the bin".

"I can't. It's disgusting. Can you do it when you're back?"

"Are you for real?", you could hear his tone change.

"Yeah".

"You aren't a child anymore. You can clean that mess yourself".

"But it's disgusting!", you complained.

"And you think it's nice for me to do it? Honestly, grow up".

Well, growing up takes time, so what you did was hang up the phone. Why was he such an asshole?

He had been acting like that a lot lately. And sure, some of your requests were a bit childish but he was one to talk. You had to tiptoe around his feelings for a whole day after he scored an own goal. He could be childish himself.

But you guessed he was kind of right about this specific situation, so you went back to the bathroom but…you couldn't do it. You knew you were going to have nightmares about it for days. So you left the shoe and the dead bug there and went to work. You would deal with Rúben later.

**

By the time you were done with work, you expected a text from Rúben. He always sent one when he got home to let you know about any plans or just ask about what you wanted for dinner. But there was no text. It was odd but you decided not to worry. He might have stayed for an extra training session. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Hello?", you called when you got back to the apartment. "Rúben?"

You spotted him in the living room, glaring at you.

"Good day?"

"I guess. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I came back home and found you didn't clean the mess in the bathroom".

"Rúben", you said, back to that whining tone you hated but couldn't help but use sometimes. "I tried but it was so disgusting. I swear I couldn't do it".

"So I had to do it".

"Thank you…", you tried to say but he interrupted you.

"You keep doing this. Calling me while I'm working for stupid things you should be able to do".

"They aren't always stupid…".

"They are. And you know what happened to the boy who kept crying wolf?", you rolled your eyes. "One day you'll really need me and I won't believe it's an emergency".

You could feel the tears in your eyes. Even if he was partly right, there was no need to be so mean.

"If this is how you're going to be today, I'll go out to get some fresh air and be away from you. You're being really unfair".

"No need for you to go. Some of my teammates invited me to have dinner with them and I said yes".

"But it's Wednesday".

"I need the fresh air as well", he said, going back to the room.

Wednesdays were your day. You met on a Wednesday, kissed for the first time on a Wednesday, moved in together on a Wednesday,... Rúben's schedule meant he was away a lot, so you cherished whenever he had a day off on Wednesday so much. He often got you flowers or booked a table for dinner at a restaurant. And now he was leaving. Well, both of you could be pricks.

Picking up your bag again, you left without saying goodbye and got inside the car. You didn't even know where you were going. And you should have probably just walked but it was raining and the last thing you needed was to catch a cold.

Traffic wasn't too bad and you kept driving after the light turned green. And soon, everything went dark.

**

Rúben thought about staying home when he heard you leave. Maybe he should wait until you get back and apologize. You both had reasons to apologize but he knew he had been a dick to you. It was just that sometimes it got on his nerves how much you depended on him. For the stupidest things. You were independent otherwise. You had a good job, which meant you had your own money, and managed most of the important things around the house. But then you couldn't deal with killing a bug and cleaning the mess. It just didn't make sense sometimes and it frustrated him.

So Rúben met some of his teammates for dinner. And then, for drinks. Even if he didn't have any since the season had already started and, well, everyone remembered what happened the last time he drank. How could they forget?

"Your phone keeps buzzing", told him Nathan and Rúben looked to see it was you calling.

A part of him wanted to answer but he was still angry. And so he just moved the phone away and ignored it. Nathan gave him a weird look, he had seen it was you calling, but decided he wouldn't stick his nose in your business. Better to stay out of it.

Rúben still felt fidgety. He never ignored your calls. And what if it was something important?

"I'm going to the toilet. I'll be right back".

And while he was washing his hands, he saw the door open and turned to find Nathan staring at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"Your phone kept ringing and then you got a text from your girlfriend asking you to answer in not very nice words. So I answered the next time she called…but it wasn't her who was calling you".

"What do you mean? Who has her phone?"

"Her friend Patricia, who is a nurse. They are both in the hospital".

"What? Why?"

Rúben felt dizzy all of a sudden.

"She had an accident".

**

"Patricia! Where is she?"

Rúben was running around the hospital's corridor, not caring about who he bumped into. And when he finally saw Patricia, he cared even less.

"Oh, now you care?"

"You can call me names later, please tell me what happened!"

"A drunk driver hit her car".

"Is she ok? Where is she?", now he was panicking even more. And feeling guilty. So guilty.

"The doctors were worried when she got here", started Patricia and she put a hand on Rúben's arm when she noticed he was about to lose control. "But she's fine. Well, as fine as one can be. She got really lucky. She was unconscious when she got here but there's no major damage".

"Thank God!", sighed Rúben. "Where is she? Can I see her?"

"Follow me".

Patricia could move around the area freely and she took Rúben with her to your room and then knocked on the door.

"Wait here. The doctors are still inside".

Rúben nodded and pressed his ear to the door. He could hear Patricia telling the doctors that your partner was there and wanted to see you and a couple of minutes later, the door opened.

"Come in".

Rúben took no time to do so and soon he was by the bed, right next to you and completely ignoring the doctors who were still there.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes", you nodded. But you looked so small and weak. There were a few bruises on your skin but Patricia was right. It could have been so much worse.

That was when Rúben decided to acknowledge the doctors.

"Sorry. I was really worried. Is she ok? When can she go back home?"

"Tomorrow morning. We want to monitor her tonight, just to be on the safe side".

He nodded and looked back at you, the way your eyes kept closing worried him.

"They gave her some medicine to sleep", said Patricia, as if she could read his mind. "She needs the rest".

"Of course. Can I stay here?"

"Yes. I'll get you a pillow and a blanket but that won't make the sofa any more comfortable".

"I don't care about that. And thank you".

The night was terrible for Rúben. He kept staring at you and wasn't able to sleep. That's why he was awake every time a nurse showed up to check how you were doing. And even if they all told him everything was fine, he still couldn't sleep.

When you finally woke up, he jumped from the sofa to go to your side.

"How are you? Are you in pain? Should I call a doctor?"

"I'm fine. I just need the toilet".

"I'll take you there".

"No you won't, Rúben", you chuckled.

"Then I'll call a nurse".

"No. I'm fine".

Despite his protests, you got up and went to the bathroom by yourself. Your whole body ached but it was bearable. And you were going to get more painkillers soon with your breakfast so it was ok.

"Let me help you", he said, taking your arm to help you walk back to the bed. And you let him even if you didn't need the help.

"Thanks".

"I'm so sorry", he blurted out. "You have no idea. You could have been hurt so badly and I wasn't answering the phone because of a ridiculous fight. I will never forgive myself for that. You needed me and I wasn't there".

"Rúben", you said, grabbing his hand. "We both made mistakes. You were right. I kept crying wolf and then when something bad happened, you didn't think it was an emergency. You were so right about …".

"No. No, that's no excuse".

"Don't feel bad, really. Plus, it wasn't even me calling. I was busy doing tests to make sure everything was ok".

"Still. It won't happen again. Call me anytime to kill a cockroach or to do anything you need . Seriously, I'll always be there".

"I know you will. But I have some growing up to do too. If I hadn't left like that because I was upset you told me off, this wouldn't have happened".

"Hey!", he was now the one grabbing your hands. "You drove when the light was green and a drunk driver hit you. You did nothing wrong. It was all his fault".

"But…".

"But nothing. Now let me pamper you until you're healthy again".

"I like being pampered", you smiled.

"Then get ready. Because even queens will be jealous of how I'll treat you".

And Rúben sealed his promise with a kiss.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Nightmare of a Roommate

Requested: Nope

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: When you are forced to share an apartment with the notorious Bagman, life seems to be harder than it should be. But what difference does a few weeks together make?

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of death, the usual fluff

A/N: Two posts in one week?! I had this idea come to me today and knew I needed to get it out! I love to hear all your thoughts and comments! As always, my inbox is open to you!

Part 2

Top Gun was currently redoing their dorms which meant the group of aviators who were called back were placed in apartments close to the base. Normally it wouldn’t have been a huge deal, but the number of vacant units caused a slight issue. Everyone had to pair up. The higher ups figured the best way to do it was for everyone to draw a number that way no one can complain about how it was done. Or at least not blame them for who their roommate would be for the next few weeks.

You each took a turn drawing a paper out of the hat and you pulled out the number 4. You smiled to yourself because that number had been your lucky number for as long as you could remember.

That was until a southern voice called out, “Which lucky person got the other number 4?”

You cringed at the question and Natasha looked over your shoulder in curiosity. “Oh god. Hey Bagman, what kind of flowers do you want at your funeral?”

You smirked at the question and his answer almost made you laugh. “Is that the kind of question you ask guys? No wonder you’re still single.”

Her laugh told you she found the whole situation entertaining. “Might want to get your affairs in order. I don’t see you lasting more than a week with Y/N.”

His head whipped over to you and a slow smirk appeared on his face much to your annoyance.

“Wipe that look off your face before I do it for you.” He chuckled and held up his hands in mock surrender.

“I’ll make sure to keep my door locked at night.” He gave you a wink and turned back to Coyote.

You couldn’t help but shake your head at what just happened. Of all the people here, you just had to be paired up with the teenager on steroids.

Natasha came and put an arm around your shoulder. “If it gets too bad, we can set up something in my room.”

You gave her a weak smile, “Thanks, but I think I can manage a few weeks with him. If something changes, like needing help to bury a body, you’ll be my first call.”

She snorted in response, “I already know a good spot to hide him.”

A voice behind you both made you jump. “The two of you are scary.” Bradley had a concerned look on his face, but Natasha waved him off. “Don’t get on our bad side, Bradshaw and you’ll be fine.”

Day one and you already wanted to strangle the man. You knew everyone had their own quirks when it came to their routine, but his were borderline insufferable.

It started out with only having one bathroom. If the Navy taught you anything, it was how to be quick about your personal time. Your showers were under five minutes, and you were courteous enough to do your hair in your room. The only issue was, you forgot to brush your teeth while you were in the bathroom. Something you planned on quickly doing when the blonde was done with his shower.

A few minutes of waiting turned into nearly half an hour, and you had to leave for base if you didn’t want to be late. What the hell he was doing in there you had no idea, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You mumbled “asshole” and walked out of the apartment to your car, making a mental note to move your toothbrush later.

The group of you were ushered into the hanger, getting ready to listen to the plan for the day. A tap on your shoulder had you turning around to see your roommate from hell holing out some gum.

“Thought you might need it.” You narrowed your eyes at him and shook your head.

“I knew it took a lot of hair product for your hair to be the way it is, but thirty minutes to get ready seems like a waste of time. Clearly it didn’t do you any favors.” You turned back around before you could see his reaction, but the muffled laughs around you had you smirking.

End of week one and the two of you were getting into a small routine, being able to work around each other. He realized very quickly not to talk to you first thing in the morning. Getting a breakfast burrito thrown at him was not something he wanted to make a regular occurrence, so he kept his distance until you had a cup of coffee in you.

That morning though, he came in from a run just as you were waking up. Seeing the sand come off his shoes into the kitchen had you taking deep breaths to keep your cool. You had to admit, seeing him shirtless was a sight to be had, but it still wasn’t good enough to mask his intolerable personality.

“I don’t understand why you have to go for a run every morning.” Not only did it bring in the sand, but the smell of sweat wasn’t also something you particularly enjoyed.

“I’m flattered that you think these good looks are all natural, but sadly I do have to work out.” It took your brain a few seconds to process what he had said, and you opened your mouth to try and come up with what you meant.

“That’s not-no. I meant-you know what, whatever.” His laugh was what you heard as you retreated to the bathroom, and you knew the best way to get back at him. You took your five-minute shower and then kept the hot water running full blast as you finished getting ready in the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, you walked out ready for the day and gave Hangman a smile as you passed him in the kitchen. He gave you a questioning look, but eventually went to go take his shower.

You were about to walk out to your car when you heard a shout, “God dammit!” A smile was plastered on your face for the rest of the day.

Hangman stopped you in the hall at Top Gun and asked why you used all the hot water. “You seemed to get all hot and bothered talking about yourself this morning that I figured you needed a cold shower to calm down.” He stood there looking like he was pissed off with what you said, but the stupid smirk appeared. “Good thing I love a cold shower. It’s better for my hair.” And walked off.

Things changed in week two. Training had gotten intense and the stress of everything was starting to show with everyone. Coyote ended up in G-LOC and Natasha and Bob had to eject after a bird strike. Things like that had old memories surfacing and you could only hide so much. Your teammates had no idea you were struggling to keep it together, but Hangman saw right through your act. He just didn’t know how to approach the subject without pissing you off.

It was three in the morning and a nightmare had woken you up. Knowing that if you closed your eyes, it would just replay again. So, you made the decision to get up and watch tv. You kept the volume down low to not wake up your roommate, but you didn’t know he woke up during your nightmare.

With thin walls, Hangman could hear everything that went on in your room. He knew when you finally went to sleep at night or when you decided a light workout at midnight was a great idea. But this night, he heard a pained whimper and the constant tossing and turning coming from your bed. It didn’t take long after for the footsteps to follow and the opening and closing of your door. What surprised him though, was the tv turning on in the living room at three in the morning.

He knew you had problems getting to sleep or staying asleep. But most of the time you at least attempted to get a few hours in before getting up. Tonight, was a red flag for him and he knew he couldn’t stay silent anymore. No matter how much you hated him, he couldn’t let you keep going the way you were. Eventually the lack of sleep is going to catch up and he knew it would be while you were in the air.

Your ears perked up when you heard a door open. A few seconds later, Hangman came walking into the living room and sat on the couch across from you. This was the first time either of you interacted with each other this late at night and you could feel the uneasiness coming off of him. A glance over to him showed he was lost in thought, looking at the ground in front of him.

“What are you doing up?” His eyes lifted towards you at the question, and you waited for him to answer.

“I could ask you the same thing. Last I checked, there was nothing good on at 3 in the morning.” Your eyes squinted at his response, and you tried to figure out his play.

“I don’t see why my sleeping habits are of concern to you.” Your answer seemed to deflate him a bit. Almost like he was disappointed in what you said. But again, you didn’t understand why.

“Look, Y/N. I know you haven’t been sleeping and recently you haven’t been yourself. The others don’t see it because you do a pretty damn good job of putting on an act, but I do. Is it something I’ve done? Because if that’s the case, I’ll go bunk with someone else. I don’t need you getting hurt out there because me.”

His words hit you harder than you wanted to admit. You tried to figure out how he came to that conclusion and thought back to this last week. You were closed off, the jokes you made towards him had all but vanished, and you mainly kept to your room. But it wasn’t because of him. It was easier to hide away than explain to someone what was going on.

“It’s not that. Work has been stressful, and I have my own way of dealing with it.” It wasn’t a lie, but it was a very watered-down version of the truth.

“And the nightmares?” You winced at that question. Here you thought you had been doing a good job of hiding things, but the blonde in front of you was too observant for his own good.

“Why does it matter? In a week we won’t be roommates anymore and everything will go back to the way it was.” In a last-ditch attempt of avoiding the real issue, pushing him away seemed like the best option. Until he said what he did.

“Because I know what it’s like to be a prisoner in your own head. To feel like the world around you is moving too fast for you to keep up. And while I may not be your biggest fan, I wouldn’t wish that kind of internal struggle on anyone.” You watched as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. The ever so cocky pilot wasn’t here tonight, and you found yourself struggling to keep your composure. It was easier to put up a front when he was the worst version of himself. But this was different.

“How about tonight we pretend like we don’t have a million differences with each other. You can say anything, and I won’t judge or even bring it up in the morning. But something is wrong, and you need to talk about it. And what better person to do it with than someone who doesn’t know you that well?”

He was right. If you confided in one of your close friends, like Natasha, you knew it was something she would remember for a long time. While she may not judge, the pity looks were just as bad. Hangman was a near stranger when it came to personal information. The two of you only knew each other on a surface level, never trying to push boundaries.

“Last year there was an accident. A friend and I were on a routine flight when a bird strike hit. Both of our planes caught fire and I ejected without a problem. Her lever was stuck, and she ended up crashing her plane into a mountain. This last week just opened old wounds and it’s like my mind is stuck in the past. I’m either too worked up to fall asleep or a nightmare wakes me up. Every time I close my eyes, that day keeps playing on a loop and I guess I just thought it would eventually stop.”

You knew the memory would never quite leave you alone, but you hoped things would at least get easier. But seeing Natasha’s plane crash was too close to the original memory.

“Can I make a suggestion and you not get mad?” It was a loaded question, but your desperation for some sort of help pushed you to nod your head.

“Sometimes having someone near you when you go to sleep can help. It’s almost like a sense of safety that you can sleep, and the other person will have your back. I’d rather you be pissed off next to me while you get a few hours of sleep than have to stand next to your casket because you couldn’t think clearly in the sky.”

His words were brutally honest, and you couldn’t tell if you were thankful or not for it. To have someone not tip toe around your feelings was almost refreshing, but why did it have to be Jake Seresin of all people?

The last two weeks have been nothing but a challenge living together. You were two very different people forced to coexist and now he was talking about you sleeping in his bed. The boundaries you had made very early on were about to be crossed and that’s what you were struggling the most with.

“It will change things.” Was your response to his suggestion. But a quick shake of his head and you knew it was a weak argument.

“Nothing changes. You need a source of safety and I’m willing to provide it. I know you may not think I’m a team player, but when it really counts, I’ll have your back no matter what.” You searched him for any signs of misleading, but the only thing you saw was a genuine concern.

“Okay. But only for tonight.” He gave you a small smile, one you had never seen before. The smirk you had come to hate was nowhere to be seen and you were starting to wonder how much of a front he puts up. Because then man that was currently offering his bed to help you sleep, was not the man you thought existed.

You awkwardly crawled into his bed and turned with your back to him, facing the wall. You felt the bed dip, and the warmth behind you told you he wasn’t far. To your surprise, his hands stayed to himself, and he was a respectable distance from you. But the sound of his even breaths mixed in with the smell of him had you slowly drifting off to sleep.

A few days had passed, and Jake was honoring what he had said that night. Nothing was ever brought up and the two of you went back to how things were. But things seemed easier now. The dancing around each other in the morning was seamless and you found his presence to be comforting rather than an annoyance. Things moved forward and for once you felt like you were keeping up.

That night came at you like a fright train. You had gone the last few nights without a nightmare and only a few wakeups. But the hope of moving forward was quickly crushed when you woke up out of breath and tears streaming down your face.

It almost scared you how much you didn’t think about what you did next. You walked out of your room and knocked on the bedroom door next to yours. Jake answered the door in sweatpants and his hair in a million different direction. Clearly, he had just been woken up. But he very quickly was on alert as he took in your tear stained face and shaking hands.

“I-I’m sorry. I woke up and just came here. I didn’t mean to wake you. I-“ He cut you as he wiped a few tears away.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. One hand was rubbing the back of your head and you started to sob against him. All the hurt and pain you had been keeping in, finally escaped. You both stood like that for a few minutes, him letting you calm down some before he let go.

“Stay in here tonight. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He wiped the tears away and gently grabbed your hand, leading you over to his bed. This time was different. This time you weren’t the levelheaded pilot who knew to keep walls up around others. No, this time you were a broken girl desperate for comfort. Which is why you curled yourself up next to him, allowing him to wrap an arm around you to pull you closer.

“Get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed the top of your head and lazily drew circles on your back.

A few weeks ago, you hated the fact you were stuck with him for the next few weeks. But now, you had no idea how you were going to let him go.  

A/N: Thank you so so much for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it!

[tubchunk]

okay but today showed just how concerning q!tubbo's behavior and attitudes are becoming, and how it's probably going to be too late until someone notices.

i'll be honest, q!tubbo has ALWAYS been reckless and willing to throw himself into dangerous situations without much thought or consideration. but something about how he does it now has been worse, i'd say.

even since coming back from purgatory, the first couple days after he first met sunny, he was actually MORE careful. i don't think he got knocked once, was always wearing armor, was always careful. except for lucky ducks, where he gave sunny all of his armor, and lied to her about having a backup set and then went in anyway, getting knocked MANY times in the process. but even that, can be looked over.

but ever since fred's funeral. man.

it is so glaringly obvious how bad it has gotten. the actual day OF the stream, q!tubbo was jumping from the side of the hole in ways that got him knocked TWICE, and sunny had to pick him up. then, later when tallulah accidentally dropped the picture she had taken, he jumped down from the top of the wall WITHOUT PULLING OUT HIS GLIDER, and then just casually went back up. when q!pierre was shooting at them, he almost involuntarily threw himself before sunny like a shield, taking all those shots.

and then we come to today. q!tubbo hasn't gotten himself any real armor other than the chestplate from lucky ducks, he misplaced his glider in one of the chests, and then proceeded to MULTIPLE TIMES, jump down into the hole and get knocked, with the simple explanation that "sunny will save me". he fought mobs a bit slower, tanking more hits. and then he jumped back down the hole again, except this time HE DIED. he hasn't died like that on the server in a while. and then, when stuck at q!pierre's base, he decided that he has to die again, and leaves a block in his inventory so his corpse remains there, and he dies again. then finally, when he is back at the factory after all that, he just goes to the chest and pulls out the glider, and when asked about it, yeah he knew it was there the whole time.

i know a lot of this is probably just coincidence but I DON'T KNOW.... with cc!tubbo confirming (and not elaborating) that q!tubbo hasn't even showered since purgatory (my guy the smell) and then all this..... the subtle arc thats being set up and played out for q!tubbo is making me nervous.

[shedobewritingalittle]

Fourth of July

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Bucky visits the cemetery the first since Steve funeral, but he isn’t the only one that’s mourning on the Fourth of July.

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: R

Warnings: Grief, self-harm, depression, death, mourning, mentions of infidelity

A/N: Listen, this has been in the works for a year, but I’ve been redoing this whole time. I wrote it listening to “Fourth of July” by Sufjan Stevens. Slight AU because I like to think that Bucky didn’t know that Steve was gonna do that shit. 

It was humid in the city, making it feel a lot hotter than it actually was. He had started to sweat under the sweater he had pulled on and he tried his best to ignore the discomfort. The slight breeze made the various red, white, and blue decorations flap in the wind and carried the scent of someone grilling nearby. Hot dogs, he thinks.

As the sun started to set, the smell of gunpowder started to fill the air as the streetlights started to flicker on. Children ran past him as he walked on the sidewalk, sparklers held high in their hands. They giggled and laughed, their families yelling at them to be more careful. The man just keeps on walking, quickly crossing the street as soon as his destination came into the view.

Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets, keeping his cap covered head down as he walks into graveyard, gravel crunching under his feet. He hasn't been here since the funeral and he didn't really want to come today, but he knew he should.

A part of him still wanted to scream at his best friend, wants to ask him what was so special about Peggy Carter that he had to go and upend so many lives. The other part of him just wants to stand there and cry, mourn the loss of his best friend, his brother, the only tie to he had to his old life.

Yet, someone had beat him to it to that second one.

He didn't expect her to be kneeling there in front of the shining marble headstone, her body as still as the statues that dotted the cemetery. She doesn't hear him, or possibly just chooses to ignore that someone else was here to mourn over the same person today. He can see that she's saying something, but even with his super hearing he can't hear it.

Bucky stopped in his tracks, not knowing exactly what to do in this situation. Should he let her be, let her mourn? Should he call Sam and ask her to come sit with her? Raynor hadn't prepared him for this. He was barely getting his own feelings under control, so how was he supposed to help anyone else? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He had only met her a handful of times, with most of them being before a fight. The first time that he had met her, the first time he actually can fully remember meeting her, was after the mess in Berlin, when his arm was caught in a vice because none of them knew if he was still Bucky. She had smiled at him and said in a saccharine sweet voice, “I will not hesitate to put you six feet under if you do that shit again, understood?”. It was after that comment, after Sam and Steve had both look at her almost in shock, that the latter had introduced her as his wife.

Before he knows it, his feet are carrying him towards her, his footsteps almost silent on the grass until a twig snaps and announces his approach. Y/N's back straightens, her body tensing. Bucky's feet don't stop though, not until he is standing right behind her. She keeps her eyes locked on his headstone, tears having left black colored tracks on her cheeks.

"Are you alright?" Bucky questions, immediately kicking himself for how stupid his question was. Of course she wasn't fucking alright. The woman was crying at her lover's grave on the man's birthday. You're a fucking idiot, James Buchanan Barnes. He watches as her eyes shut and she tilts her chin upward every so slightly, letting out a shaky breath. In the distance, fireworks go off, shimmering in the sky.

"You don't have to say anything-It's okay." He quickly replies, knowing that he wouldn't want to open up to someone that he hardly knew. Y/N sighs, her eyes fluttering open and she looks back down at the slab of marble. In front of it was dozens and dozens of offerings. Flags, small shields, candles, plastic red, white, and blue flowers, action figures of the man himself-all left by people they didn't know.

"I didn't think anyone was going to be here. I thought that since it was getting dark that everyone was going to be watching the fireworks." She tells him, her eyes scanning over the words on the headstone over and over again, as if the name was going to change, "I guess I was wrong."

"I didn't want him to be alone on his birthday." She cuts through his thoughts with a knife, stopping him in his tracks. Her voice sounds small, almost faraway as she continues, "I didn't want to come, didn't want to be here, but-but, I knew he shouldn't be alone on his birthday. No one should be alone on their birthday."

Red explodes in the sky, bathing them both in scarlet. Another flies past it- a green one this time-and bursts as the other fades, just as Bucky takes a seat beside her. He gives her ample space  as he tries to get comfortable on the grass.

"No, no he shouldn't." Bucky echoes as he picks up a small action figure of Steve. The eyes are slightly crooked and the colors of his suit have been discolored by the sun, "Did he ever let you throw him a party? I tried, but the punk never let me. Always told me that we shouldn’t waste money on shit like that."

"A couple of times, but nothing too big. Just something small, no gifts, no frills." She answers, a faint smile appearing on her face, "Always gave me something to do. I've never been patriotic."

A bright white firework exploded in the sky, making it look like a thousand more stars had suddenly burst into existence before flickering out.

"You aren't patriotic but you married him?" He questions, holding the action figure in the air. She her smile grows ever so slightly as she shakes her head, her eyes turning towards the sky. Bright blue illuminates her, turning her cobalt for a few seconds.

"I see the irony in it too, don't worry."

There's a moment of silence between them. He looks away from her, his eyes focusing back on the headstone in front of them. The noise of the city celebrating still sounds then, the whistles of the fireworks flying into the sky, the cheers of happy children.

She had disappeared after the funeral.

No more public engagements, no more paparazzi shots. Sam had said that she hadn't been calling, hadn't talked to him at all since they laid Steve to rest. The lights were always off at the house she used to share with him in Brooklyn, but they knew she was home.

She didn't have anywhere else to go.

Her friends were either dead or spread to the wind. Her team was gone, splintered far beyond repair. She would’ve had her husband, but he had made his choice and now she sleeps in a bed that’s too big for her, in a house that’s too quiet, too empty.

"Do you think-Do you think we are allowed to be mad at him?" Her voice is no louder than a whisper when she decides to speak. Her eyes once more on the slab of marble, looking at it like the man himself was sitting there with them. She continues, her eyes watery, "I don't-I've been trying not to be angry with him, but I can't."

"I think so. He-He kind of screwed us over, didn't he?" Bucky answers, turning his head to look at her once more. Her thumb was twisting her gold wedding band around her finger, trying to calm herself, rating to rein in her emotions. 

She was there was Steve came back, hair white and skin wrinkled. She hadn't said anything-No, she just looked at her husband, tears filling her eyes. There was no screaming, no sobbing, no real signs of any outward emotions other than her watery eyes. Steve had tried to talk, tried to explain himself, but she had just walked away. She knew what he did, where he had went. There was no point in arguing with him, with fighting over a choice he had already made so she didn’t. Bucky wonders if she had cried after that, if she had screamed into her pillow after being betrayed by the man she loved. 

He didn’t know that an oh so familiar numbness had started to taken a hold her as she had walked away from the situation. She doesn’t remember any of the drive home-she honestly doesn’t understand how she able to drive at all. The next few days were a blur-she didn’t leave the house, hell, she didn’t even leave her bed unless she had to.

It had taken four days for it to finally settle in, for the pain to crack through and force itself through that numbness. There had been a lot of crying, of screaming during that time. Shattered picture frames, broken dishes. She kept to herself, not wanting to take her anger out on anyone as she processed everything.

At the funeral, she didn't say much to anyone. Everyone's condolences were met with a small smile and nod. She had stood in between Sam and Bucky in the front pew. Her back was rigid, her head held high. Her makeup and hair done perfectly-she had been the dutiful wife and now it seemed like she was becoming the perfect little widow. For a second, Bucky had thought she was processing this all well-better than him, at least-until Sam suddenly grabbed her hand in the middle of someone's eulogy. She had been scratching the back of her hands until they were bloody and raw, her pale pink nails discolored by garnet.

Another firework screams its way into the sky, exploding and illuminating them in emerald for a brief moment. She shifts in the grass, drawing her knees into her chest, making her look smaller than she actually is.

"I miss him. I-I don't know if I should, but I miss him. I still love him." She announces, barely loud enough for him to hear, "No matter what he did, I still love him. I-I wish I didn't, I think it might make it all easier."

"I yelled at him, both Sam and I did. He tried to justify it, wanted Sam to convince you to forgive him." Bucky confesses, his eyes still on her. She turns her head to look at him, brows furrowed, “He didn’t understand why you were so angry with him.”

“I talked to him before he-He didn’t want me to be mad at him. He didn’t want to leave with us with in the middle of fight. Didn’t want to leave it like that. He couldn’t stand it when we fought and these past five years-God, it felt like that was all we did. Everything I did wasn’t good enough fir him.” She looks back down at the ground, fingers picking at the grass, “I kept askin’ him ‘Why?’ and he couldn’t give me an answer. He told me that he loved me, but he also loved her. He acted that’s all he needed to say.”

“I know he had a family with her. Had kids, grandkids, the whole shebang. He had told me-He told me that after we fixed everything-after we brought everyone back that we were gonna settle down like we always talked about, that we could start trying and God, I knew it sounded too good to be true.” Emotion is wrapping around her neck like a noose, making her words strained as tears start to roll down her cheeks, “And I wanted it so bad. I wanted a family with him, even though things were shit and he was pushing me away, I still wanted that. I thought-I thought that finally everything was okay and I feel like an idiot for believing it.”

Her words hang in the air above them, above his grave. They weighed heavily on Bucky, forcing his shoulders down. Steve had promised her a family, a quiet life-some semblance of normalcy and had ripped it away for what? For a woman he knew less than a year? Bucky had asked him if he had regret what he did and Steve hadn’t responded. He had just changed the subject, deciding to instead talk about the quality of his hospital food.

“You’re not an idiot. You didn’t-You didn’t know he was going to do this. None of us did.“ Bucky replies, his voice just as quiet as hers had been moments before. She just sits there, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Both of them just looked at the grave in front of them, a dozen different emotions flowing between the two.

The tears on her face have started to dry. In the distance they could hear music playing, people laughing, and celebrating. They continued to sit quietly in the cemetery, the buzzing of cicadas and fireworks turning into white noise.

-

"Shall we look at the moon, my little loon?

Why do you cry?

Make the most of your life, while it is rife

While it is light

Well, you do enough talk

My little hawk, why do you cry?

Tell me, what did you learn from the Tillamook burn?

Or the Fourth of July?

We're all gonna die"

[be-my-ally]

Do you mind?

This is pure, meet-cute, fluff where literally nothing happens. For the prompt - “Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people.” 

thanks to @whositmcwhatsit for the game + @thatbanditqueen for the prompt + @ellie-24 , @vintageshanny , @missmaywemeetagain + @from-memphis-with-love for the fun!!

I super stupidly got a lil bit confused with scheduling this post so ... it's uhh.... by my attempts at scheduling the post 13 hours early, but actually 11 hours late. many apologies folks.

It’s overwhelming - the noise, the people, the conversations. You just need five minutes to yourself, time to take a breather, and try and get yourself back together. You hadn’t known everyone was going to be bringing a partner, or a date, to this party; you’d managed to forgive Nancy for it, because she was the one picking you up (or rather Paul,  her date, was driving) but you had felt blindsided when the group was waiting outside, double the size you had expected since everyone had their plus ones. It was meant to be casual, the birthday party of Sharon’s brother - the perfect excuse for a get-together of people who were now all busy with their own lives. It was meant to have been a chance for you and your friends to catch up and have some fun; you’d all agreed to attend as a group - no partners. Worse than being blindsided as the only girl solo was how left-out you were feeling, it was just making you feel lonely. 

You make your way across the lobby, desperate to find somewhere quiet - away from the other event rooms, or guests. Build yourself back up to going in, stay for the toasts and leave politely after another half hour. You check the time on the large clock above the reception desk as you wander past; half past eleven. A pitiful time to be wanting to leave a party. You want to roll your eyes, internally berating yourself for being so overdramatic. You cringe as you think about how much you’re now looking forward to being tucked up in bed, cup of tea in hand, with perhaps one of the gossip magazines you’d picked up earlier in the week and how much you wished you could just skip this whole party.  It’s quite a large hotel, and there’s several reception and event rooms but eventually, on the other side of the lobby, you stumble into an empty and dark space; seemingly some sort of library/games room situation, judging from the bookshelves surrounding the walls.

You look around, seeing, in the barely-there dim light from the hallway that allowed the objects in the room to be just visible, a little couch nestled in a corner. You practically throw yourself onto it, burrowing your head into the cushion. Ugh, it had been frustrating, and ultimately overwhelming to have to continue to answer the exact same questions again and again from the other people at the party - the same two worded responses coming out of your mouth. 

Where was your boyfriend? Not here. Did you come with a date? Not today. Are you still ‘going’ with Daniel? Not anymore. Sorry to hear about your dad. Thank You. They almost all responded with a similar politely sad but evidently morbidly curious face; clearly desiring to know if your break-up had occurred before or after your father’s funeral, or wanting to know more details in general. It had almost been worse when the questions had ended and small-talk had resumed; relief at the chance to not have to explain your life, but annoyance that it was clearly only because word had spread about your situation. You kick your feet against the sofa cushions still feeling your upset rise again at the memory of being stood in your group of friends while everyone around you laughed about their wedding plans with no regard for the fact that most of them knew that you and Daniel had broken up almost a month ago. 

You reach out, fingertips knocking against something, before your fingers curl under the cushion. 

You scream into it, muffling the noise - as frustrated as you were it would be mortifying to be found like this. You relax for a second as you lose your breath, for some, potentially insane reason you can feel your annoyance lessening and your body starting to release the tension it had been holding. You ready yourself for another, 

But you’re distracted when you take another breath, ready to go again, by a faint cough in the opposite corner. 

“Do you mind?” Your head whirls around, noticing for the first time, a man sat in an armchair on the other side. You push the cushion you’d been screaming into back into its place as surreptitiously as possible, blushing at the idea that someone had just witnessed your behaviour. 

“I came here to get away from other people.” He says it in such a tone that you’re immediately annoyed again, who was he to speak to you like that? You scoff, nose wrinkling; 

“Huh? Well yeah, me too.” He makes a wordless harrumphing noise and you roll your eyes. “I have just as much of a right to be here as you do.”  He doesn’t respond - standing up and starting to walk over to the sofa. He walks through the streak of light shining across the floor from the window in the door and you quickly realise why his voice had seemed familiar. You blink, slightly dazed at seeing Elvis walking towards you, frantically sitting up and smoothing out your skirt; panicked voice in your head telling you to be calm, it’s ok, he’s just a man, don’t panic.

He plops himself down beside you, for a man claiming he was out here to get away from people he had clearly been desperate for company, leaning back against the cushions. He angles himself sideways to get a better look at you, and you tuck your legs up - deciding there was little point in pretending to be all prim and proper when he had just witnessed your miniature breakdown. It means you can sit sideways on the couch - examining his side profile. His hair is coiffed within an inch of its life and it immediately makes you want to muss it up, you wonder if he feels the relief you do when you can finally brush out your Elnett. You sit in silence for a moment, but you can’t resist for much longer than a couple of minutes. 

“What - What are you doing out here?” You glance at his fancy looking suit and tie, “You, uh, here for a party?” He shakes his head at your tentative questions, glancing over at you, 

“it’s a- uh benefit thing but it’s really just an excuse for everyone to hound me for somethin’ or other, half of the producers are in there… they want me to do more movies, I don’t know - I, I,  shouldn’t tell you this but I’m not happy with them at the moment and I-I want to go back to the music but…I don’t know.” You frown, having no idea how to respond to that, hesitating briefly before patting his arm gently. 

“Oh, that sounds awful - you should be able to do whatever you want to do.” He huffs a little laugh at that, staring across the room before turning back to you, 

“Anyway honey, what’s got you all screamin’ into that little pillow - what’d it ever do to you?” He smiles as you blush, you were still hoping that by some miracle he might not have noticed that - although you suppose a screaming girl flinging herself onto a sofa was pretty obvious. 

It sounds trivial and childish when you try to explain, especially in the face of his own, clearly much larger and important problems; “‘s just - I’ve had this difficult break up recently, and all my friends were gonna come to this party solo but they’ve, they’ve actually all brought their partners and I’m just, all on my own. I just, I didn’t want to come anyway but I definitely wouldn’t have agreed to come if I’d known!” 

“Pretty thing like you couldn’t get a date?” You blink at him, he’s turned the charm on full force and it feels almost a bit much to have his bright eyes focussed on you. 

“No-no it wasn’t like that,” You’re quick to deny that it was something you’d failed to do, “I didn’t know! They all told me we were coming together!” He laughs, a little cruelly, 

“And you believed ‘em?” You frowned, squirming a little - you had believed them, perhaps in sheer desperation to make it worthwhile leaving your house, or from the belief that they also wanted to spend time with you. You shrug, unsure what else to say, you wish you weren’t going home to an empty house, you wish you’d at least been able to have fun this evening, but it wasn’t like you’d be able to do anything about it now. You change the subject, 

“Tell me more about the movies, do you not like making them?” You tried to remember if you’d even been to see his latest release, but couldn’t even remember the name to suggest it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He looks pleased that you’re interested, and starts to chat away - explaining his reservations with the soundtracks, and filming methods. You are listening, but there’s something about his voice, and while you’re interested in what he’s telling you, fascinated by the glimpse into an industry so removed from your everyday life as he starts to go into the intricacies of his studio contracts you can feel your attention beginning to wane. Your eyes starting to drift close, and your head dipping towards his shoulder. A moment later his hand, somehow simultaneously heavy and delicate, brushes your shoulder, startling you out of your relaxed almost-asleep state. 

“C’mon honey, who’s gonna take you home? You got a car?” You blink, shaking your head, 

“No, no I’m uh, No, I got a ride here - It’s not far though,” You shrug, “I can get a cab, or walk.” He frowns at you, 

“You’re dead on your feet,” He looks at you sideways, as if assessing you for something, “I got a room upstairs, you can join me if you like?” You blink properly awake at that, a surge of anxiety rippling through you - as much as you’d want to you’re not ready for anything intimate again, too fragile. The idea of having to turn down Elvis though is sending your heart racing. 

“I don’t, I don’t know if I can, I haven’t, not with just anyone and my, my, boy-my ex-boyfriend he was uh, no I think I really ought to go home.” He nods, a little sadly, 

“Well that’s alright sweetheart, if you want, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea - just, just offering to, uh, sleep mama, that’s all.” He looks back at you, completely earnest, eyes wide, and you can feel yourself caving in, 

“Well alright then. But, no funny business.” He does a scout salute as he beams at you, and you giggle - relaxing again; you know you shouldn’t trust him, he’s still a man you’ve just met and yet he just gives off an air, that you somehow know you’ll be safe with him. 

Your nerves skyrocket as he pulls you by the hand into the elevator, you hope he can’t feel your anxiety through your clammy hands, and you wonder how it is that he was just able to sneak away so easily. He starts to talk in the confined space, you wonder if he can tell you were getting nervous, telling you,

“I’m not sure if it’s the same thing,” Looking a little nervous himself, “Because I haven’t - haven’t uh had a split, but I, I get lonely too. I just, just like having someone ‘round to uh, take care of… or take care of me.” He whispers it like a secret and your heart aches a little for him, but before you can respond the doors are opening and he’s pulling you down the hallway. It’s not that late so you don’t expect for him to immediately be directing you through to the bathroom, instructing you to get ready for bed, but you also can’t find the energy to protest. 

You’re glad, now you’re thinking about it, that you didn’t bother with too-much make up, as you inspect your face, hopeful that keeping it on throughout the night won’t make you break out too much. His voice though chimes in through the door - almost as if he could hear your thoughts; 

“There’s cold cream on the side there, honey.” You’re pleased, but also a little disconcerted - was that how many women he had over? Your eyes rove over the counter, seeing the little jar on the side, and you reach for it - before noticing the little stack of eyeliners and mascaras, oh, it’s for him. You hate that that makes you feel better - you shouldn’t be feeling jealous, he’d invited you up here to sleep, because it was convenient. Nothing else. 

You leave the bathroom, having taken the pins out of your hair and brushed it out, and face fresh from being washed to find him waiting for you. He had already gotten himself changed - monogrammed silk-satin pyjamas that looked almost too similar to something your father might have worn, it made you smile to yourself. You still couldn’t believe you were getting to see him like this. He motions you forward, 

“Let me take care of you, honey,” You frown, a little confused, until he’s turning you around to undo the waistband on your party dress, his fingers light over the zipper down your back. You clutch the dress to your chest as it starts to open down your back, still shy about showing off too much to him. You can’t help but shiver as you feel his hands on your bare skin; perhaps you’ve been touch starved since your break-up, it feels like an age since you’ve even had a fingertip brush across your body. You yelp a little when he tugs the dress down, pulling it off of your arms and away from your torso, pooling at your feet. He chuckles when you wrap an arm around yourself, embarrassed at your boring, old, bra slip and underwear, 

“S’ok baby, here put these on.” He hands you a soft cotton shirt, and you nibble your lip looking at him for a moment, before he playfully huffs and putting a hand over his eyes, “I won’t look, go on.” You hastily pull the slip off, quickly shrugging the shirt on.

“Ok, you can open your eyes again.” He looks over at you, smiling, clearly pleased with however you look. You feel like a child, but you honestly couldn’t care less. Instead you make the subconscious decision to lean into the warmth and coziness he was providing, clambering under the bedsheets he pulled back, fingering the EP adorned on your breast while you waited for him to come back from the bathroom. You’d only known him two hours and now you were feeling owned. It wasn’t, however, an unwelcome feeling, alarmingly domestic perhaps, worryingly forward but not unwelcome. 

When he returns he turns off the lights, climbing in behind you. You know you should be more reserved, more reluctant but you can’t find it in yourself to be instead curling into his body, his arms automatically coming around you. You can't help but hope that this might happen again as outlandish as it might seem. But if nothing else ever comes from it at least you can sleep happy that it had been worth your while leaving the house tonight, if only for the feel of his warm body against yours, and the knowledge of how his hair looks before he goes to bed.

…

[respectthepetty]

Tagged in by @elizabethsebestianhedgehog @telomeke @wen-kexing-apologist @pandasmagorica (I'm missing someone. I know it.)

Current time: When do we roll back time? Today? Tomorrow? My current time is time is abstract, and I don't understand Daylight Savings.

Current activity: I just got back in from a Día de Muertos celebration the local funeral home was holding at a cemetery. Very quirky. Very small town. I loved it! Now, I *should* be grading, but instead I'm booking the hotel for a wedding I'm attending on Friday. I'm dragging my feet since I don't believe in marriage, but I'll show up in the name of friendship.

Currently thinking about: Why I'm into Dan x Shadow.

Current favorite song: I went to the When We Were Young Music Festival again this year a few weeks ago, so I'm fully in my emo feels, which means I'm listening to the most toxic songs like Bring Me the Horizon's "Die4u" with lyrics like "'Cause the truth of it, you could slit my wrists, and I'd write your name in a heart with the hemorrhage"

It's very Eddie coded. It has the lyric "I keep holding my breath for a miracle" which really just rubs salt in the Kiseki (aka Japanese for miracle) wound right now waiting for confirmation that Chen Yi is alive and well in this finale.

Currently reading: It should be students' essays, but I attended a lecture yesterday from Dr. Jody Shipka over Edible Rhetorics where she talked about recipes as a valid form of composition and technical writing as well as the narratives involved in them, so now I'm reading her book Toward a Composition Made Whole, which calls for people to move composition off of the page, and as an emo with plenty of Converse that have lyrics written on them, this hits me in all the right spots.

Currently watching: What am I not watching would be an easier question because I'm watching all the shows, all the time, but I'm about to rewatch ALL of Kiseki: Dear to Me before the finale because I'm obsessed with it. I'm also stuck on episode four of Shadow because the theme of "praying away the trauma" is really hitting my Catholic heart hard.

Current favorite character: EDDIE! All roads lead to my Multicolored Menace. He stole my heart in the very first scene when he said not to look back then tried to run away from Chen Yi, and my love for him has only expanded each episode as he continues to be the most colorful character on the outside in bright cardigans yet the darkest on the inside, just like me! If only he wore black nail polish with his chokers, then it really would be me.

Current WIP: I'm presenting on Polynesian rhetoric in a few weeks, and I'm connecting it to rap music since both are based on oral traditions and incorporate mastery wordplay even in everyday situations, but I'm trying to find "academically appropriate" examples since apparently "Pussy get popped, piñata" is too much for some people. *rolls eyes* Who knew?

Tagging no one because it always reminds me of MySpace Top 8, and I don't want my heart or favorites exposed like that.

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 4: THE BODY

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: Enjoy!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1188

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III

ROANE FUNERAL HOME 

The funeral home smells like fresh flowers, wood and astringent cleaning product. It is impeccably clean yet stuffy like an old age home. The lights are dimly lit and the walls are painted in muted tones. A shiver runs down my back thinking about dead bodies as Nancy and I walk down the hall to the main room. The thick funky coloured carpet muffles our loud thumping. Nancy and I approach the opening and find Jonathan, right where Joyce said he would be, choosing caskets for Will. 

Jonathan looks at us, eyes slightly wide. I’m immediately uncomfortable for overstepping boundaries. Nancy and I were so determined to find out about Barb that we didn’t take in that Will’s body was found last night. Mom literally told me an hour ago that the funeral was tomorrow. I touch Nancy’s arm. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I whisper, smiling kindly at the funeral director. 

“A little…” Nancy agrees, lingering by the entryway. “But we have to try.” I open my mouth to protest against it but Jonathan is walking over to us with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

I haven’t seen Jonathan since yesterday in the parking lot and we didn’t necessarily end on good terms. I am honestly still a little miffed by the photos, but the photos are why Nancy and I are here. I shift behind Nancy, playing with the ends of my hair. Nancy and Jonathan haven’t had a conversation about the photos and the admission makes me uncomfortable. The photos were extremely intimate and private; to think Nicole, Steve, Carol and Tommy H were all privy to them, makes me annoyed all over again. 

“Your mom…” Nancy starts, looking as uncomfortable as I feel. “She said you’d be here. I just…” Nancy looks at me for help. 

“Can we talk for a second?” I ask, sheepishly. 

I am surprised Jonathan agrees to talk to us and we all walk to the hallway and sit on the bench against the wall. Nancy hands Jonathan the photo and he inspects it closely. I point out the figure behind Barb and he nods his head. 

“Does it look like anything to you?” 

“It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion, but I wasn’t using the wide angle.” The irony of the situation is almost comical. I tuck a loose curl behind my ear, chewing on my bottom lip. Jonathan shifts uncomfortably on the bench. “I don’t know. It’s weird.” He gives me back the photo. 

“And you’re sure you didn’t see anyone else out there?” Nancy presses. 

Jonathan looks pensive, though I can tell he’s uncomfortable with having to relieve a moment of poor judgement. He sighs shaking his head “No, and she was there one second and then she was gone. I figured she bolted.” 

“The cops think she ran away. But they don’t know Barb.” 

The way the cops were treating this investigation…they weren’t taking it seriously. Brushing it under the rug or throwing it away like yesterday’s paper. Questioning me as if I were crazy for what I knew I saw. What I can’t get over is the disappearance of Barb’s car. It doesn’t just vanish into thin air. This whole situation is deeply unsettling and Barb deserves better.  The silence suddenly became awkward. I was sitting here with Jonathan at a funeral home. Disturbed him as he was picking a casket for his brother whose body was found last night in the Quarry, to talk to him about my missing best friend. As if reading each other’s minds, Nancy and I both stand up.  

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here, today of all days.” Nancy apologizes, reaching for me. I walk to her, taking her hand in mine, squeezing it tight. 

“What did he look like?” 

Nancy and I look at each other before looking at Jonathan. 

“This man you saw in the woods,” Jonathan urged. “What did it look like?” 

Something told me he knew what we were talking about. But how? 

“I don’t know…” Nancy stammers, a line appears between her brows. “It was like he—” 

“Didn’t have a face?” Jonathan finishes. 

A chill froze me to the spot. “How did you know?” 

HAWKINS HIGH 

I’ve never been in the darkroom at school before. I observe the painted black walls and the equipment propped against it along with the stacks of photography paper. I wrinkle my nose, at the strong smells of chemicals wafting in the air. I squint under the red-light watching Jonathan put a slide under this large microscope-like machine. He looks through the magnifier, fiddling with a knob above his head. I lean against the counter, fascinated by all the equipment in here and what it all does. 

“Did your mom say anything else? Like where it might have gone to or…” 

“No, just that it came out of the wall.” 

The machine dings and Jonathan turns off the switch before grabbing a piece of photography paper. Nancy and I crowd around him as he puts the paper in a tub of what looks like water but smells faintly of gasoline. 

“How long does this take?” Nancy mumbles. 

“Not long.” Jonathan answers, shifting the tub back and forth until the paper is fully saturated. 

“Have you been doing this a while?” 

“What?” 

“Photography.” 

Jonathan shrugs. “Yeah. I guess I’d rather observe people than you know…” 

“Talk to them.” Nancy says with a small smile. 

Even though our brothers are all best friends, this is the first time Nancy, Jonathan, and I are together. Growing up we weren’t very close, Jonathan often lingered in the sidelines. He’s always been quiet and a little shy. As we got older, we grew farther apart, Nancy and I growing close with Barb and Jonathan seeing the world through a camera lens. 

“I know. It’s weird.” 

“No, it’s not,” I assure.

“No, it is. It’s just that people don’t always say what they’re thinking. But you capture the right moment, it says more.” 

“What was I saying?” Nancy asks.

“What?” 

"When you took my picture.” 

Suddenly, the black walls become more interesting. I shift uncomfortably on my feet. The elephant in the room was bound to be talked about. I didn’t think it would be now, in a pungent, red lit darkroom at school, but nonetheless the conversation needed to be had. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. It’s just—” 

“That’s it!” I exclaim, looking at the photo. “That’s what we saw!” The photo develops clear showing some weird looking animal? Thing? Whatever it is, it’s tall and grotesque looking and doesn’t have a face.  

“My mom,” Jonathan shakes his head in disbelief. “I thought she was crazy cause she said that’s not Will’s body. That he’s alive.” 

“And if he’s alive.” 

“Then Barbara.” 

Nancy and I look at each other. Barb’s alive. She has to be. We can save her and Will from this thing and the cops won’t think we’re crazy. 

“Okay so what do we do now?” I ask, licking my lips in anticipation. “We have evidence but no proof.”  

CHAPTER 5: THE FLEA AND THE ACROBAT

[hackerqueen]

Another Love

Chapter 3: Runaway

Previous chapter <-

warnings: none i think but if you catch any, let me know in the comments!

A week has passed. 7 days, 168 hours since I last saw Jessy. I tried not to think about it, I was absorbed in preparations for the upcoming wedding and bachelorette party. I forgot my behavior in the car and the messages from Lilly I received on the evening of the ill-fated day.

Lilly: I know it's hard for you

Lilly: I know you see him too

Lilly: But that's impossible.

MC: I won't let you make me insane. Not this time.

Lilly: I'm not saying that at all. But it's impossible that you saw him.

This message was followed by a minute of silence, followed by another heartbreaking one.

Lilly: You can't see him because he's dead

I did not reply. In fact, the blonde didn't even wait for an answer. She simply closed the newly opened wound, which was slowly sticking together.

I looked at my reflection, searching for the old sparks that I knew had left my brown eyes forever. I scanned my body clad in a red dress that reached my mid-thighs. Seen view.. was decent. I was like a rose, though not fresh and fully bloomed, but dried up. Tonight was supposed to be a good evening. I was supposed to drink, play, dance and forget about God's world. Have fun like there's no tomorrow.

I heard a loud horn of a car that approached my block. I came down and immediately recognized Dan's black Volkswagen. I walked inside and breathed a sigh of relief as I smelled a familiar scent that only reminded me of this man. It had a very distinctive perfume, and in combination with the air freshener it calmed my senses and heart.

– Well, well, well. Someone struced up like a rat for the opening of the sewer.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes, but my feigned indignation couldn't last long once I saw his expression. I burst out laughing, nudging his shoulder hard.

– Gallant as always. – Dan chuckled and drove out of the parking lot. – You know, you keep on being nice to me, and I'm going to think you like me.

The man looked at me again, his other hand lowering his sunglasses to the tip of his nose.

– Who says I don't like you, honey? – he said, deliberately lowering his voice to sound like a lover in a cheap romantic comedy

I rolled my eyes, but there was a wide smile on my face.

– Eyes on the road, Jack Daniels.

I loved those moments when I got into that car and forgot about everything. Sometimes it was friday nights, other times we disappeared for the whole weekend. There was nothing dirty or romantic about our relationship. Of course, it was true that Dan was trying his luck by asking me out to watch horror movies together two years ago, but I'd never agreed to that. We realized that our connection is only platonic and that our hearts belong to someone else. Dan was unlucky in love with Jessy. He confessed this to me six months ago when I drove him drunk from Aurora. It was our first meeting with the whole group, even though I had been living in Duskwood for a year and a half at the time. I had no contact with them all this time, because the group completely shut down. Jessy was experiencing Richy's death, Cleo and Thomas tried to help Hannah in the meantime assimilating with the whole situation. Dan told me everything. About how he tried to be there for the redhead, but she rejected him.

The pack of friends was rapidly falling apart and no one knew how to fix it. I flew to Duskwood two years ago for Richy and Jake's funeral. And I don't even know how or when I stayed here until today. I left my old Californian life behind for a small town. In the States, I had no one worth staying for. I didn't have a family, and a handful of friends accepted my decision rather quickly. I thought it would be different here. That I will start all over again.

– And here we are. – he announced in an optimistic, cheerful voice getting out of the car – I'll bring alcohol and I'll take Tommyboy on the best party in his life.

Hannah's bachelorette party was to be held at her house. It was big enough to party, and she didn't want to do that in Aurora. We walked into her place and I was immediately hit by the loud music. I said hello to each person and showed Dan where to put the crate with various alcohol. We were still standing at the kitchen counter, discussing the evening ahead. We stay here, while Thomas and his friends go to Aurora.

Finally our eyes fell on the opposite end of the room where Hannah and Thomas were. They were joking about something, looking into each other's eyes while looking so happy. They looked like fulfilled lovers who overcame many adversities to finally stand on the wedding carpet and connect for life.

– How sweet. – Dan mumbled, and I immediately sensed the irony in his voice

– You have to be a jerk your entire life. Why not take today off? – I replied teasingly as he rolled his eyes

Although we always joked and turned it into sarcasm and irony, deep down we envied them a lot. That they succeeded and we did not.

– Oh, MC, you're here! – I heard a loud scream of Cleo who came over to me and hugged me – Hi Dan. Shit, I forgot to bring my phone upstairs.

– I'll bring you. I have to go to the bathroom anyway. Will you make me a drink? – I suggested to which she immediately agreed.

I did my physiological business and went to Hannah's room where the phone was on the bed. Picking it up, I saw that she was calling and showing her mother's number. I started to head to the ground floor of the house, where I heard loud screams. Looks like they're having fun already.

– Where the fuck have you been?!

I recognized Dan's voice, who was furious. I stood on the penultimate step looking at the group of people in front of me.

– Cleo, your...

The woman turned to me, and only then I saw the person standing in front of the front door. A shiver ran down my spine and my feet dug into the ground. The man was dressed in dark colors, and the hood of a black sweatshirt slightly covered his face. But even from this distance, I knew who he was. He was a ghost who haunted me on what was supposed to be my stepping stone. He couldn't let himself be forgotten.

I saw him lift his head, look from an enraged Dan to me. I felt his blue eyes piercing me. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I heard his voice.

– Hello MC.

I knew that voice was the thorns decorating my tense body. That voice was the beginning of my end. So without thinking, I turned around and started running upstairs, leaving them all behind me.

I ran away from him although once I would run for him.

[911lonestarfeels]

So I got up this morning at five so I could watch both episodes before work. Thank you Hulu for not posting things until 301. 

I honestly have a lot of different thoughts on the episode I thought it was excellently acted. But I felt like the pacing was off you know?

My ethnic, cultural, and race background is fairly similar to TK. One parent who’s Jewish the other parent is not so maybe I’m not seeing things from the right perspective? Like I had no idea that Carlos had issues with the Rangers until that episode. I thought the discussion between him and Andrea was amazing. An example of having differing positions and facts that will back up what you’re saying being civil about it and agreeing that you can’t agree. I thought that was wonderfully done. 

I also really liked that. TK didn’t try and mediate between Carlos and Gabriel. It isn’t a partners job to be supportive and help them find the right path forward. However, you don’t need to insert yourself in every situation. Especially one that you’re probably not qualified to handle them.  As well as TK and Carlos know each other, he don’t know the totality of the history, both in the father, son, relationship, and the relationship that the Rangers had with minority groups. While TK is technically a minority, some minorities are more in your face than others. For example, I’m a teacher my dad was Jewish, so ethnically, not religiously I’m half Jewish. Well 48% according to ancestry.com but if you walked up to me on the street, you would think I was a pure wasp – you know white Anglo-Saxon protestant. TK has that same guise. I don’t know if it’s passing or just like flipping through the cracks. But in the day today he is not going to experience the same thing as Carlos or Gabriel or Andrea.  Going to Andrea at that point then later Owen, was probably the best plan.

I think overall my issue with the two episodes is this they tried to shove too much into two episodes. The disagreement between Carlos and Gabriel, the half family coming to town and meeting everybody, Owen, being Owen, he makes drama wherever he goes, Gabriel’s death and funeral Being in one episode. And the next one we have Carlos attempting to go through every stage of grief, the postponement of the wedding, which I’m pretty sure all of us knew was going to happen, Carlos beginning to veer a little bit from the normal route, the wedding, all the stuff with Wyatt and Judd quitting, which should be in quotation marks, probably, the five second honeymoon, and then assisted suicide.

I have issues with that whole storyline, which I will not get into now because this post is incredibly long, but it wasn’t necessary to shoehorn that into the end of the episode. Unless they were trying to be cheaper and not have to film anything for next season? I really love this show And I love those boys. The Reyes parents were growing on me and I hope that Owen turns down his melodrama.

But the season long lead up to the wedding that was like 20 minutes. I was disappointed. Maybe there are outtakes that they’ll post somewhere

Oh!  And where are Enzo and Jonah like you have the random cousins from California that you’ve never met but not your half brother that you share with your dead mom. Color me confused. 

[lunarmoonanons]

Chapter 11: The Big Fights

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

The signs were there. But no one bothered to pay attention to them.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕  

Masterlist

Young Izuku had the foundations to be a great hero. A new symbol of peace. He was kind, strong in heart, brave, and a little stupid. Toshinori knew that would be a worthy holder of One For All. When he trained the boy, and heard of his actions during the attack on the USJ, he knew that he had made the right choice for the new symbol of peace.

Inko was a beautiful woman, even if she was too anxious and self conscious to notice. He felt this urge to love and protect her. And over the months with her and Izuku, they formed a genuine love.

Toshinori was a little concerned at first when he met YN and Daniel though. He did not really understand why they were kept so sheltered and babied. YN seemed like a capable young woman. But like with Izuku and Inko, he would come to understand. The more time he spent near them, the more his soul felt protective, loving, Obsessive.

~~~

6 Months ago

“Ah, good morning young Yn. How are you today?” He would usually meet with young Izuku, finding the siblings as well in the apartment.

“What do you think? You people stole my switchblade. My mother’s switchblade.”

Inko bristled a bit at YN’s tone. “Sweetie… We just thought that you could get hurt. It’s for the best. You know that w-”

“That you only want the best for me. Yeah yeah, I’ve heard the same excuse from you over and over again. And each time it’s still bull.”

Before any of them could respond or reprimand her, YN stomped to her room slamming the door. Mornings would mostly go this way, they weren’t so great. Especially when the night before they had to make decisions regarding her safety. On All Might’s days off, he would spend time with the Midoriya’s, sometimes it would go smoothly and sometimes the mood couldn’t surpass a funeral.

All Might felt guilty over this whole situation. Feeling that he should’ve noticed the signs that YN was going to run away sooner. Perhaps then he could’ve intervened and the whole family could air out why things were the way they were.

The first signs had to be when YN kept interfering with the way Inko felt was right to take care of poor Daniel.

~~~

7 Months ago

“Come on Daniel, It’s time to go to the learning center.”

“Oh sweetie, I forgot to tell you that we pulled Daniel out of the center classes.”

“What?” When YN’s face turned, All Might could see that a screaming match would begin, well not really a match considering young YN would be doing all the screaming. He was just here to pick up young Midoryia but he couldn’t help but stop in.

“Well it’s just that Daniel learns so much better at a home, and the center is full of so many people that would be mean to him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be at the center when I can take care of him.”

“Yes he does! How is he gonna learn to cook and clean and manage any type of money if you refuse to let him learn!?!”

“Daniel’s mind can’t handle all the new information. He might start to panic and his quirk might-”

“YOU don’t know a GODDAMN thing about him! About what is best for him! You wanna do what’s best for my brother?! Than STOP treating him like he’s completely incompetent!”

Before she could yell another word All Might stepped in with his trademark ‘I AM HERE’ .

“Now young YN that’s no way to speak to your foster mother. She just believes that someone more personal should be teaching Daniel these things. That's not so bad is it?”

“But-”

“IS IT?”

“Fine.I’ll get my school work done early so that I can teach Daniel in the afternoon.”

With that the argument was resolved. If only that was the last time she lashed out at them. If only All Might had prevented the biggest fight that would break out between Izuku and YN.

~~~

3 months ago

“Will you stop pestering him about his quirk?! It obviously makes him uncomfortable!”

YN had walked into the room seeing Izuku asking Daniel all sorts of questions about his quirk and how he used it. It would’ve been fine had he stopped at the first two questions, but he kept going on and on. Wouldn’t stop asking about the destructive qualities, or about how his mind sometimes couldn’t comprehend his own quirk. Izuku didn’t notice how uncomfortable Daniel was getting.

“I was just asking him some questions!”

“You were being a jerk!”

Before Izuku could yell at her again, the table and the mirrors broke. Both turned to see Daniel staring furious and scared, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Don’t scream at my sister!” He spoke angrily. He was so brave, so ready to defend his baby sister.

Daniel could’ve brought the whole room down, had All Might in his ultimate form not stepped and stopped him. All Might should’ve known not to grab him and held him down. He should’ve known that the constriction made Daniel panic. Made him destroy more things to make it stop. The screaming continued, until YN grabbed her brother and calmed him. They barricaded themselves in her room that night. And in the morning, the three tried to act like it didn’t happen. All Might took the kids out for the day. Trying to mend the relationship and forget what had happened.

The signs were there that day. The signs that they were going to run. That they were going to leave. If only All Might had seen the signs. If only Toshinori hadn’t gotten attached to them.

[alexbkrieger13]

Nattis dear sweet Nattis 😭

The world collapsed - now Björn opens up: "Had a blackout"

Nathalie Björn lost her stepfather after his heart stopped. Now she opens up about the day that changed everything. - I had a blackout, you don't think it's true, she says to the Football Channel.   

What was supposed to be a completely normal school day ended in something completely different. The Swedish national team midfielder received a call that her stepfather, Johan, who lived with a congenital heart defect, had suffered a cardiac arrest.

It came as a shock even though the family knew it could happen. During his more than 30 years, Johan had been forced to take a lot of medication and every year there were routine check-ups and several operations - something that was possible because heart and lung research progressed. Since Björn was two years old, Johan was part of her life.

When she had to get to soccer practice, he was the one who drove her, and he played an important role in her life.  

- He cheered for AIK, so when I signed for them he was really proud. 

But in 2014, the heart couldn't take it anymore.   

- It was really hard. My mother called me and I heard immediately that something was wrong. My father had to come and pick me up, after that I had a blackout, you don't believe it's true and you think this isn't happening to me, she says and continues:

- We knew he wouldn't live as long as others, but we had no idea that he would be taken from us so early.   

How did you handle the situation? - In some way it has made me, my mother and my sister even closer because we have been through it together, and then of course I want to protect my sister from all the evil in the world. And mom is the strongest person I know, I don't want anything to happen to her ever again. You try to think that you can handle everything.   

Every year, just under 2,000 children are born with heart defects in Sweden, which means that an average of five children with heart defects are born in Sweden every day. And today, roughly 35,000 children and young people live with a heart diagnosis in Sweden and roughly 50,000 adults, according to the Heart and Lung Foundation.   

After his experience, Björn became involved in the issue and contributed to research. Nowadays, the defender is an ambassador for the Heart and Lung Foundation.   

- I thought for a long time about how I could help. I have always donated money and at the funeral people were asked to make a gift to contribute to research. So it's always been in the back of my mind that I want to do something. I want people to get general awareness, to learn how serious it is and how many people are affected. Everyone can really do something, whether it's a penny or a like on Instagram.   

Through his ambassadorship, Björn has made contact with Bellis.   

- I'm not going to tell her whole story. She is 10 years old, and has a congenital heart defect. And she plays soccer, it's awesome. She is able to live with it and it is hugely cool that you can live a normal life even if you have a congenital heart defect because research has come so far.   

How does it feel for you to concretely see that you have helped a person? - It's great fun and cool that you can be a role model in football, or talk about something that has happened to you yourself and strengthen it. And that they don't just say that research is progressing, but that it actually does. And I think the Heart and Lung Foundation has made a lot of progress that not many people know about.   

Is part of the ambassadorship in honor of your stepfather? - Yes, but it absolutely is. I feel that I am doing something good from our experience, and show that you can talk about it. Then maybe I don't want to talk about it all the time or go deeper into detail, but you are still strong enough to share part of your story. You want to share, but not with everything, there are things you want for yourself. Everyone has lost someone in one way or another and everyone has their story. I think it's important that you don't feel like you're alone in this.  

[ciaossu-imagines]

Since you always give such good advice and know what to say, want to ask you something about a kind of difficult topic. A relative of mine recently tragically (I'll add again that it's so tragic) lost their life and even though I wasn't that especially close to this relative, I'm still really upset about it and tear up whenever anything concerning what happened is brought up. Now the thing is, the plan is to go visit their family tomorrow afternoon and I'm not sure on what to do. I'm honestly kind of scared. It's all happening so fast and even though I could kind of rest today, stuff concerning what's happening now is still being brought up. A part of me wants to go and I also kind of feel like I should go even though I know I won't be saying much, if anything. But the other part doesn't want to be faced with my super upset relatives and they might talk even more about it and I know it will just be painful but it would feel wrong to stay behind. What do you think? Anything is very much appreciated.

C

First off, I’m so, so sorry for you loss, my friend. My heart breaks for you. Losing people is one of the hardest things in the world and my sympathies go out to you and your family. I never feel like I know quite what to say in these situations, but I hope what I can say will help you and live up to the trust you have in me.

I will say that grief, in any form, is such a complex and hard emotion to deal with and I think everything you’re feeling is incredibly valid, no matter how close you were to your relative. It’s still someone you knew who met a tragic and untimely death and that’s going to make anyone sad. Hell, one of my high-school classmates died in a car accident. I actively hated the man because he did everything he could to make my school years a living hell. In seventh grade, he punched me so hard in the face my glasses broke and living below the poverty line as I did, we could not afford new glasses so I had to deal with even more teasing about my taped together frames. I always figured that I’d be glad to hear he died but the amount of grief and anger and sadness I felt at the time surprised me. For you to feel so intensely about someone you say was a good person, someone you enjoyed even if you felt you weren’t particularly close, it’s to be expected and everything you’re feeling is okay and completely natural. I definitely encourage you to take all the time you need to feel what you have to feel without feeling any shame about it. Cry when you need to cry, even if others are around. If anger hits, let yourself feel that – punch a pillow, scream into a pillow, do anything that allows you to process the sad, the angry, the frustrated. I’m not particularly religious but I have to believe that death leads you to a better place or that death is just the beginning in another great adventure and if you feel the same way, that’s always a good thing to remember when you can.

Grief is also something intensely personal. While support and community can definitely help, at the end of the day, everyone has to deal with their grief themselves, in whatever ways make the most sense to them. And there is no shame if, in the end, the way you need to handle your grief involves not surrounding yourself with a lot of people. I hate admitting but I have lost many people…only attended one funeral in my whole life though, enough to know that that is not helpful for me in dealing with my grief, but actively harmful. So, while it’s definitely a societally expected thing, I just refuse to go to funerals or wakes now. It has nothing to do with how I felt about the person and more to do with how I personally deal with loss and grief the best. I get feeling like you ‘should’ do this or that, because society or your family expects it, but if you honestly feel like it’s going to be harmful for you, make it harder for you to cope, or be too painful to go experience that, as hard as I know it is for you to do this, do try to establish that boundary and hold yourself to staying home. If you feel though that you will end up regretting not going and being there for the members of your family that remain alive, then please go. I cannot say this enough, as someone who has worked in the funeral industry – funerals, wakes, get-togethers…yeah, they’re honouring the passing of a person but they are largely for those who remain alive to find support and comfort in each other.

I will tell you that most of the people going…they’re not really sure what to do in this situation, what to say. Grief and loss make idiots of us all and there’s nobody who doesn’t flounder in the face of sudden and unexpected loss, at least a little. I so wish I could say that it will slow down, that there will be all this time to absorb and deal with the loss and things won’t happen quite so fast, I’d be lying. Life moves at the speed of light and it can sometimes feel like we can’t handle it or catch up or even have a moment to think and that’s a really difficult thing to feel but life truly doesn’t care and it will keep throwing things at you. The best you can do is treat yourself and those around you with kindness and understanding. Focus on what you need and what makes you feel better in all this and then, if you have the energy left, do what you can for those you love and know that you have a friend on this side of the screen who is sending you the biggest hugs and the most heartfelt of well wishes to get you through all this.

[onmymasa22]

Heres my thoughts right now.

Today you will not carry negetivity or anger. Believing in hashem means you know that everyone gets what is coming to them and everything is going according to the plan. You dont need to understand the plan or agree with humans. Everything that needs to happen will happen. I will breathe through today.

I want a year of knowing someone before marrying him. Like the whole process to take a year. I want us to see eachother when we're sick or angry or have a fight. I want something healthy with tough convos and upfront in your face past the honeymoon phase. I just know that once im married, we're a team- no my money verses ur money, its all together, my debts r ours, my bonuses r ours, i want to be enmeshed. Not clingy, just inlove. I see us spending time apart, but it should be that wed always rather be together.

Plaka neighborhood

Trading 50 jews for 150 Palestinians doesnt make sense to me. That means that i as a woman am worth 3 terrorists.

I love people because i love.

אני מעדיף לדבר איתך ב-4:44 בבוקר, אם צריך

מאשר לדבר בהלוויה שלך.

אין דבר יותר גרוע מלאבד חבר או חברה

שחשבו שאין להם עם מי לדבר.

הטלפון שלי דולק,

הדלת פתוחה

וכוס קפה אפשר למזוג בכל שעה

או להקשיב לך בטלפון.

בואו נתמוך אחד בשני.

תפרסמו את ההודעה הזו

כדי להראות שאתם תמיד שם כשמישהו צריך (ואתם יכולים).

תהיו כאן עבור מי שצריך.

כוחנו באחדותנו

I would rather speak to you at 4:44 in the morning, if you need, than to speak at your funeral.

Theres nothing worse than to lose a friend who thought that they had no one to speak to.

My phone is on,

The door is open,

And a cup of coffee can be poured at any hour

Or to listen to you on the phone.

Lets trust each other

Share this message to show that you will always be there if someone needs (and you are able).

Be there for those who need.

Our power is in our unity

Here's my turn to talk, and id appreciate your hearing what i have to say. Theres a few things you should know:

They offered to take care of zc during the week for those few weeks and you said no because she doesnt do so well after arie crown. Daddy finished learning halfway through all of shas and there was a big siyum for all of chicago on the 9th but mommy didnt want him to go because she thought maybe the Palestinians would show up there, so they made up that hed celebrate the finishing of half shas on sunday with rabbi hamoui (they didnt celebrate with everyone on thursday because one of the regulars was out of town Thursday). The library was an emergency to do that sunday because the Venezuelan guy who finished the deck was also able to take down the library, and it will cost mommy and daddy 1000 dollars versus quotes of costing 8000 by other people. this guy can only do it when its not raining or snowing, so he needed to start knocking it down on while the weather was still good because he cant be on the roof or really do any of it in the rain, and if it would be postponed, the guy would disappear, go to someone else, or the weather would get too bad. So we didnt love being rushed, but sunday was an emergency of getting all the library stuff into the den. No one told you not to come, i think they just told you that that's what was going on. Daddy going to see pa was an emergency just like wjen you were in a car accident was an emergency that daddy left work for when he knew. I dont think anyone knew that this was an emergency. I think everyone thought that when u didnt respond, that meant u were ok, and if it was an emergency, u would have said something in response. If anyone knew it was an emergency, mommy wouldve left work to look after zc. I dont think she knew that it was a- go right now to look after zc- situation. If she did, she wouldve done that in a second. From what i understand, the only times you wanted to bring zc over so you could study were those two sundays. The first sunday she came and i took her to the park, we wanted to have pizza for dinner to celebrate daddys half of shas as a family, but in the end he really didnt feel good, and i didnt either, so we didnt do it. I think we watched zc for as long as we could cuz she didnt want to do anything- she didnt want to take a nap, didnt wanna go on the swings, didnt want to eat. So she went on the slide a few times and then we watched elmo. I can really understand how sucky it is to see someones huge family and know that we dont have that. I think its totally normal to lose trust or alter ur relationship with someone who tried to hurt u. I dont know how fair it is when no one meant to hurt you. I think that they were unaware of how much of an emergency sunday was for you to be able to study, and u were unaware of how important the siyum for daddy finishing half of shas and getting the library cleared was. You didnt have all the facts, and they didnt have all the facts for mommy to know to leave immediately. Its a huge misunderstanding. I hope that knowing this will take a little bit of the hurt and disappointment away. Thats my only goal here, i really dont want u feel pain. I get that having a newborn and a toddler and having a job and taking the test is really a lot. I just want to help this from being another thing added to the list. But in the end, you get to choose what relationships u want with everyone, and what relationships ur kids have with everyone.

I feel like people think im super zionistic

Ok i just talked to a guy on the phone. My voice wasnt shaking. Definitely progress.

Me: im not really zionistic. I just didnt grow up with israeli flags or knowing any Hebrew. Its just not something that ever made me feel anything, and i cant make myself feel something i dont.

Hashem how am i ok. How i am i ok when theres a war. How am i ok when most of my things were thrown out. Yes i fell apart. Yes its hard when you know you wont find the blankets you bought. I wont have the pillows or coats.

I happen to just be obsessed with Jews. I think we are smarter, funnier, more irritating, more caring than any other nation. Israel just has a huge population

U can ask my parents how surprised they were when i said i wanted to move there immediately. It was a total shock because i was signed up to get a four year degree in art. But after learning about israel

In my personal opinion:

Israel is like a furnished apartment. Like the apartments that you see on yad2 where the ad says, "just bring your suitcase, it's totally ready. All that's missing is you". Israel is a country built with the ease of a Jew in mind. You get to act as Jewish as you want- leave early on holidays, take off a bit for your kids bris, the food in the supermarket is kosher, when you walk into a building, you're not the only Jew. I didn't grow up with any of that, and I don't really call myself zionistic. I can't help it, I didn't grow up with flags or knowing the words to hatikva. All I knew was riding camels and that you could ski and swim on the same day. Some Jews live in Israel. Some are stuck outside due to the war. Some go to Israel on trips, and some never go. It's ok to be in Israel, and it's ok to not. Either way you are doing your best. It's special to just know that it's there, like an apartment ready for you to just show up should you be there. I dont know if ill live anywhere else. Maybe I'll live in Cancun, or Paris, or Miami- I have no idea, I'm just here for the ride. But israel is special. There's a completeness in being israel.

its just missing you. To me, thats something that makes israel very special

. But i love israel because i love that israel has lots of jews, and that its the center of us, and that it feels like its always sitting there waiting for us. Whether we are living there, stuck outside because of the war, come on visits, or don't go ever: its always ready for you, whenever and ifever you decide to be there. Like a furnashed apartment. Israel is there, and will always be there. All thats missing is you, and thats the completeness feeling i get when I'm there. Maybe you do too.

When someone does something evil like the school does to me, either you have special needs and youre not aware that what youre doing isnt ok, or it will take you a few more lifetimes to fix what you did. In the end, its not about me, i dont judge you.

Yosef and Yehuda had an ongoing argument about which tribe will produce future kings. Yehuda said it will come from him Yosef said it should come from him because number one, he's a perfect tzaddik, and number two, he knows how to deal with the other nations from his time in Egypt. Spoiler alert, Yehuda wins. Why, you ask? Yosef passed all his tests. Because of this, he would have no mercy or empathy for someone who had a hard life or who made a mistake. He would have been: "You think you had it hard? I had it way worse!" and, "I came out on top, what's your excuse?!" Yehuda made a mistake with Tamar and did teshuva. That's the leader of a nation. We need someone who understands our mistakes and can guide us thrugh it all. Why did Hashem make Moshe the leader of the Jews? The medrash says that when he was a shepherd and one of the sheep strayed, he carried the sheep back to the flock on his shoulders. That's very nice but he was definitely not the only sheppard who cared about sheep. Lots of sheperds care, it's part of the day job. But the medrash continues on that on the way back, Moshe told the sheep, "I must not have given you enough time to drink before, because had I given you enough time, you wouldn't have had to go off alone". Not only does Moshe care, but he takes on the sheeps mistake as his own. That's a leader. That's who is the leader of people. Not someone who's perfect. Someone who knows how to make a mistake and come back from it. That's who will help others come back from their mistakes.

Yosef and Yehuda had an ongoing argument about which tribe will produce the future kings. Yehuda said that it will come from him. Yosef said that it will come from him because number one, he was a perfect tzaddik. And number two, he knows how to deal with the other nations of the world from his time in Egypt. SPOILER ALERT, Yehuda wins this argument.

Here's why. Yosef passed all his tests, came out, YOU ASK? YOSEF PASSED ALL HIS TESTS. BECAUSE OF THIS, HE WOULD HAVE NO MERCY OR EMPATHY FOR SOMEONE WHO HAD A HARD LIFE OR WHO MADE A MISTAKE. HE WOULD HAVE BEEN: "YOU THINK YOU HAD IT HARD? I HAD IT WAY WORSE!" AND, "I CAME OUT ON TOP, WHAT'S YOUR EXCUSE?!" YEHUDA MADE A MISTAKE WITH TAMAR AND DID TESHUVA. THAT'S THE LEADER OF A NATION. WE NEED SOMEONE WHO UNDERSTANDS OUR MISTAKES AND CAN GUIDE US THRUGH IT ALL. WHY DID HASHEM MAKE MOSHE THE LEADER OF THE JEWS? THE MEDRASH SAYS THAT WHEN HE WAS A SHEPHERD AND ONE OF THE SHEEP STRAYED, HE CARRIED THE SHEEP BACK TO THE FLOCK ON HIS SHOULDERS. THAT'S VERY NICE BUT HE WAS DEFINITELY NOT THE ONLY SHEPPARD WHO CARED ABOUT SHEEP. LOTS OF SHEPERDS CARE, IT'S PART OF THE DAY JOB. BUT THE MEDRASH CONTINUES ON THAT ON THE WAY BACK, MOSHE TOLD THE SHEEP, "I MUST NOT HAVE GIVEN YOU ENOUGH TIME TO DRINK BEFORE, BECAUSE HAD I GIVEN YOU ENOUGH TIME, YOU WOULDN'T HAVE HAD TO GO OFF ALONE". NOT ONLY DOES MOSHE CARE, BUT HE TAKES ON THE SHEEPS MISTAKE AS HIS OWN. THAT'S A LEADER. THAT'S WHO IS THE LEADER OF PEOPLE. NOT SOMEONE WHO'S PERFECT. SOMEONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO MAKE A MISTAKE AND COME BACK FROM IT. THAT'S WHO WILL HELP OTHERS COME BACK FROM THEIR MISTAKES.

-Rabbi Wallerstein

School starts in a week and i want to be an artist. Ill show up to school as soon as i can. They can fail me if they want to. But i need to do kibbud av vaem. At 120.5 when i die, i wont be asked if i graduated college. It doesn't actually matter. But i want to know that i did kibbud av vaem. Its always a dance between living the life i want to live and making my parents happy.

Hashem i dont want to be angry. I want this to be my last gilgul. I am so close to you. This past shabbat i started shabbat later than i was supposed to, but i kept it till the end. I hope next week it gets better. I just need to try and be a good person. Be more loving. Be more learned. Be more devoted. Be more caring and gentle and doing the right thing. Just be nice. Be free. And nice. And pretty. And loving.

Don't treat people as bad as they are, treat them as good as you are

There is truth, there is the truth of the truth, and there is peace. The truth is "the boy stole an apple". The truth of the truth is "the boy was hungry". Peace is "nobody stole anything, now give the boy an apple" rabbi nachman

I have a question: if the mizbeach

What happened to the mishkan?

If moshe wouldve built the bais hamikdash and it wouldnt have been destroyed, we wouldnt have gone into galus- why did dovid ever build a bais hamikdash- why wasnt the mishkan good enough

I want to go to tzfat more

I want to go to bat ayin more

I want to connect to all of it

I want to be spiritual and in love life and be happy

I want for everything to be roses. To be authentic to myself. I wish i was one thing. I wish i had one style. I wish i was one of those people who was always can i be pretty hippy and sometimes preppy

Does anyone else think... how did i make aliyah? Like how did i do that?

One part of my brain: how the heck did i make aliyah? I dont think id be able to do it again if i tried

The other part of my brain: well, you were a little smart, a little cute, a little naive, and 20 years old... its definitely easier to move to a foreign country with all that than being 40 and wrinkly.

Jeans with a skirt

2graphicbandtees 2skirtpants

Dresses

I wang to b an artist

I want to see through the program im in

Because im studying art, i want the degree, but if they want to fail me because of attendance and i can only show up 6 weeks from now, thats what ill do cuz when im there, im there alone.

Charlie Harari's speech "our repsonse to the Matzav in Eretz Yisrael"

We almost never hear that someone is a tzaddik in the torah. That's all in the commentary. And then the one place is says straight out "this man, hes a tzaddik" (noach), all the commentators are like "nahhh not really". What's up with that?! What are the commentators getting at that we should learn?

There were two occurances with men being in a teyva- noach and later on, moshe. Noach was told that the world is crazy, build a boat. He built a boat, brought his family in, closed the door, locked it, done.

Moshe was a gilgul (reincarnation) of noach. What happened when Hashem said to Moshe- "hey, I want to start from scratch again and start a nation from you, lets do it". What did Moshe say? "No no no, I'm not gonna be without my nation. And more than that, if you end up carrying that out, take my name out of Your book, I don't want it to be like I ever existed!". Moshe with his message put the whole jewish nation on his boat. He wasnt cool with only knowing his immediate family was ok. And when we realize and act like we are all in the same boat, that achdus is what saves us.

אנחנו כמעט ולא שומעים על זה שמישהו היה צדיק ותורה. זה לא בפשט, זה כתוב אצל המפרשים. והפעם היחיד שכן כתוב ככה ברור (אצל נח), כולם אומרים "לעעע, לא באמת". מה קורה כאן?! מה המפרשים רוצים שנבין? פעמיים כתוב לנו שמישהו היה ב-תבה. נח, ואז יותר מאוחר, משה. לנח ד' אמר כולם משוגעים, תבנה תיבה, תנצל ת'משפחה שלך. הוא בנה תיבה, הכניס את המשפחה הגרעין שלו, סגר ת'דלת, נעול, זהו, סיים. משה היה גילגול של נח. ומה קרה כש-השם אמר למשה אחרי חטא העגל, "יאללה בואו נעשה עם חדש ממך, רק אני אתה ומשפחה הגרין שלך, מה אתה אומר?"? מה משה הגילגול של נח שבא לתקן אמר? "לא לא לא, אני לא מאשר את זה, אני לא רוצה להיות בלי העם שלי! ויותר מזה, אם אתה (השם) עושה את זה, תמחוק ת'שם שלי מכל התורה שלך- אני לא רוצה שיהיה סימן אפילו שהייתי קיים". בזה שמשה אמר ככה, הוא הכניס את כלללל עם ישראל לתיבה שלו. הוא לא היה שביעה מזה שרק המשפחה דרגה ראשונה שלו בסדר. וכשאנחנו מבינים ונוהגים בדרך שכל עם ישראל בסירה אחת, בתיבה אחת, האחדות מביאה הצלחה בכל מעשה ידינו.

[melancholiaenthroned]

10 characters | 10 fandoms | 10 tags

i was tagged by @bladeofavernus tyyyy<3 i rlly struggled to think of 10 fandoms im currently in (that had characters i care a lot about. sorry malevolent) but this was fun! not tagging 10 ppl bc im insecure and dont want to be a bother but ! not in any particular order but here they r

michelle carter (dc comics) the realization that i can only pick one dc character for this... so scary. idk if michelle is my favorite dc character ever but shes certainly up there and right now shes at the top of my brain... what does it mean to walk out of the fridge... what does it mean when everyone remembers you dying except for you... hes mourned you but youre back and you didnt even know you were gone... funerals are for the living....

paige duplass (the silt verses) my girlllll augh. augh. my false prophet... its been going not great for her lately and every scene with her recently makes me want to rip my heart out and sob and sob and sob. she just wants to fix the whole world. is that too much to ask. it might be. ill support her forever tho idc if her godchild fucks up and destroys the whole earth i will always be on her side. she went to business school shes a star employee shes an alcoholic shes mother mary. shes everything

amanda young (saw) you knew she was gonna be here i love her so bad. ive spoken at length about amanda before u all know my thoughts. saw iii you will always be famous

jung heewon (orv) thought id throw in a recent interest even tho im still no where done orv^_^ jhw is my favorite so far ever since her scene where she first used judgement day... i love the avenging angel type of character esp the way she does it (attack dog baby!) and i love her dynamic with the rest of the group.

kim kitsuragi (disco elysium) everyday i am thinking about him if you dont see me post about him know that im still thinking about him. i miss him bad

clara (pathologic) shes just a baby... i love her... i love a girl who is silly but so tragic i love a girl who was born in an empty grave i love a girl with frightening powers she doesnt understand i love a girl placed in a situation outside of her control who is still blamed when it goes wrong.

apollo (wildstorm) doesnt count as dc ok. im reaching here im rlly not into that many things its mostly just dc comics. but its his wildstorm self i actually care about sooo counting it. i miss when he killed ppl

calroy cruller (dimension 20) sorry im gonna be a calroy head forever probably hes so special to me. i love villain monologues i love treason i love betrayal.

sasha (borderlands) not into borderlands anymore but she makes this list bc sasha isnt a borderlands character to me ok shes a dear friend. i love her forever even if i will probably never play those games again. ok thats a lie but ill probably never talk about them online again. ok thats a lie too

eddie brock (marvel) it was truly a struggle to think of ten fandoms i currently care about um. i dont even like current venom comics. but eddie will always be special to me i love u insane girl<3

not tagging anyone today im way too tired to think of ppl sorryyyy but if u want to do this just say i tagged u 👍