#it may or may not be the whole reason I did this

[mismatched-sockss]

You're my future, past and present

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

⚶ masterlist ⚶

He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.

You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.

Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.

The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.

You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.

This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.

What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...

Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.

Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.

He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.

At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.

That's when it happened.

Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.

Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.

Now he had to knock.

Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.

A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.

You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.

Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.

“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”

“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.

“Wow, it- it's been a while.”

“Yeah...”

“How long 's it been? Five years?”

“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.

You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”

God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.

His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...

He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.

And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.

“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.

His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.

'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.

A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.

“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.

The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.

“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”

Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.

A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.

You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.

With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.

“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.

Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”

He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.

“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.

“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”

Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”

You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.

He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”

“I'd really like that.”

It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.

[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]

About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.

He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.

The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.

Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.

After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.

Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.

“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.

He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”

"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."

Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"

"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”

“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.

“Rossi got married last year.”

“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.

“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”

“Wow... That's a lot of time..”

“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.

“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”

“...Oh”

For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?

Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.

He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.

He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”

“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.

“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.

“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.

Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.

“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”

Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.

He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.

Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.

What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.

“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.

“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”

Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.

His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.

Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.

He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.

"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"

There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.

After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.

When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.

The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.

Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.

The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.

He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.

Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.

It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.

Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.

What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.

And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.

It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.

Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.

Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.

For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”

You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”

He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.

“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”

Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.

Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.

“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.

“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.

The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.

“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”

You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.

Only this time, you didn't pull away.

The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.

He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.

A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.

“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”

“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.

“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?

“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”

“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“

A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”

His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.

“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.

The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.

“I could never hate you.”

“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”

“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.

“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”

He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.

You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-

“I love you.”

Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”

He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”

“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”

[avelera]

It makes me sad when I see posts by people who are enjoying the Interview with the Vampire show but say they've decided not to even try to read the books.

To be clear, it's fine to just not want to read the books, there's plenty of reasons the books might not be everyone's bag, and one reason is that people might just want to enjoy the show without spoilers or the source material muddling the experience.

But I just want to clarify a few points that people might be hung up on with regards to reading the books in case they've decided not to on false premises:

Anne Rice was not homophobic or otherwise anti-sex or against queer relationships for her characters - those are lies, lies, and damned lies. Anne Rice was a queer writer before being queer-- much less writing about it--was cool (to say the least). She more or less defined herself as nonbinary before there was terminology for it, her son is gay, and she left the Catholic Church the second time because they wouldn't accept him (even though the Catholic Church had basically become her life at that point after her husband died, which is a long complicated story). She also wrote tons of erotica, specifically bdsm erotica, which was also very queer. She would not be horrified by the queerness of the show.

Anne Rice was anti-fanfic - Yes, she was. Yes, she was one of the most aggressive authors against fanfic (though she softened later). But just to be clear, she had a legal reason for it. I was one of the people most heartbroken in the early '00s by her aggressive take down of fanfic over the years but even then, I always understood why she did it, she reasonably believed she had to be aggressive in order to defend her copyright. You can dislike her for it but she wasn't just hating on fanfic for the sake of it, the early internet was extremely muddy when it came to the legality around fanfic and copyright and as an early adopter of the internet, she was very concerned on that front specifically.

The books are not poorly written/not fun to read - Look, your mileage may obviously vary, and many have found flaws in her writing (IWTV in particular is probably the slowest read of the bunch) but Anne Rice wasn't a NYT Bestseller on basically every single one of her books for no reason. Her style is easy to read, fun, engaging, and often darkly beautiful and deeply empathetic. She basically defined the modern vampire genre and modern supernatural gothic romance for the last 50 years, I mean she dominated the genre. Don't take an out of context excerpt of the opening of The Vampire Lestat sounding like "My Immortal" as an indication of anything. (The whole point of that intro is that Lestat is supposed to sound like a self-obsessed drama queen in the opening pages, that's the conceit of the book and introduces him as a self-centered unreliable narrator, which she then plays with to great effect. It's actually rather deftly handled how she introduced Lestat as a POV character with that introduction. As a writer, I will defend that introduction as actually genius.)

Anne Rice wasn't perfect, to say the least. And the books might not be everyone's cup of tea, she was often dealing with transgressive topics and probably held many ideas or presented many concepts decades ago that would be side-eyed today.

But they're bestsellers for a reason and she's an era-defining author for a reason. The show is doing some interesting stuff with modernizing and deconstructing the books but the rich material they have to do it with comes from the books.

At the very least, I suggest trying out "The Vampire Lestat" and then "Queen of the Damned" which I think are two of her best and will go a long way to informing how audiences view the show and what's coming next.

[morrigan-sims]

who says adventurers can't dress cute?

aka: "I spent almost three hours giving Zen new outfits and took 140 screenshots of them."

[byrdblood]

Have you ever lived in an area that gets really cold — and I mean, really, dangerously cold — and been out doing some work in that cold, only to suddenly get to enter, say, a heated car? And for just a brief moment, you turn the heat in that car all the way fucking up, and even though your skin can detect that it's Too Hot, it doesn't hurt you? In fact, if only for the short period it takes your body to readjust, it's honestly Utter Bliss?

Well, Nightmare is not fragile. Nobody but Dream can generate positivity in quantities enough to burn him. At worst, Nightmare may get that sensation of "ouch, too hot-!" or a bitter taste lingering like rotten flesh on the back of his tongue, but paltry mortal positivity is never going to hurt him... and yet he's been a long, long, long time alone in the bitter cold, with only the long-defunct memories of his brighter half proving to him that blissful warmth could be a thing at all, that there existed a type of heat that did not harm, that there was a way to get warm that didn't involve getting thrown under the scorching mid-summer sun and pierced straight through. Show Nightmare a sun the didn't bleach the color from the world and blind the eyes of its desperate worshipers, he thought, and Nightmare would show you a liar.

Nightmare would not understand why his employees feel anything positive to him at all. He hasn't gone out of his way to be especially pleasant to them — had even tried to chase Killer off in the beginning, for all that entailed — and he's had people hate him for far less than the cold and distant monolith of "fair" he's carefully chosen to present to these men. They have plenty of reason to be loyal, but all else is inexplicable. Obviously, he concedes, there is something terribly wrong with all of them; that's why he sought them out. He expected strange, and he got it. They are all cruel, learned or not. Most of them, like Nightmare, have learned to enjoy their job. Most of them, like Nightmare, have nothing else. Most of them want nothing else.

...But when those gentle first sparks of warmth flicker to life in their bitter winter souls, one by one, he cannot bear to snuff them out.

He could — it would be easy. So, so, so easy, like crushing a newborn rabbit in your palm — what can it possibly, possibly do? You are so much bigger than it. Your strength, to it, unknowable. Perhaps it would even be merciful, to crush it before it can open its eyes and see the boundless expanse of biting snow — perhaps to cut it short now, asleep in its crooked cradle, would even be an act of love.

Perhaps Nightmare is cruel.

Presented with the miraculous remnants of a fire somehow smouldering under 2 feet of snow, visibly one shift of wind away from snuffing out completely, maybe Nightmare stepped carefully away. Maybe bone-thin twigs and tufts of rooted grass began to find their way into the hungry embers, mysteriously dry and ready to eat. Maybe he sits by them, sometimes, only ever on the cusp of the snowbank they themselves have burnt away — watching. Waiting. Taking note of size and shape and color, using the scratching of the pen as a skin-deep excuse to warm his frostbitten fingers, and all the while never once stopping to think too hard about how easily the flames accept his gifts — how eagerly, how patiently they beckon him. Always a seat waiting for him to take it. Always a plate ready at the table. Always a warmth ready to consume him whole.

Nightmare is an ocean; a deep, black, endless weight, cold and erosive and alive. He is the bitter wind, the deadly snow, the sonorous gnaw of black bile. He is, and has always been, the force that drove people to seek refuge in the warmth. He could not be more different than the fire.

...And yet, somehow, he finds himself understanding.

He, too, is hungry.

And his hunger, too, destroys.

---

(One day, he finds out that the new one is purposefully stifling themself in front of him, having gained an ounce of knowledge of his nature and inexplicably decided to become concerned for his comfort, and suddenly he finds himself angry. Dont they know that if he intended to use them so, he wouldn't have bothered giving them jobs? That if he wanted mindless, unfeeling machines, he would have sucked the souls out of all of them and filled the gaping, bloody, tooth-torn holes with his own essence and will? Can't they see how big he is, compared to them? Don't they know how easy it would be?)

(...When he cradles them in burnt, bileous ichor, can't they feel it?)

---

When Nightmare backs away, maybe his men mistake that for a discomfort with the positivity, if they themselves are aware of the feelings at all. After all, monsters are used to loving and being loved in absolute, with absolute ease. Maybe, Nightmare thinks, they cannot recognize a love that doesn't burn straight through.

Maybe he stays in his office.

Nightmare has plenty of work to do, after all, since his blasted brother woke up seemingly stripped of all capacity for critical thought, blind to the roles they had inherited upon their mother's death and blaming Nightmare — only a bit less than half-rightly, mind you — for the cursed hands of cards they now dealt with.

And here, at least, there are only fragile things worth crushing.

[leclerity]

you kiss him first

Charles Leclerc x Former Childhood Friend!Reader count: 1.1k words summary: Charles and you talk about the reasons why you haven't seen each other in ten years... and there may have been some miscommunications all this time. a/n: another angsty one, with another happy ending, as always - thank you for all the support on the fics so far!

The Monaco air is crisp as you step out of the door, leaving the laughter of your parents and family friends behind. You note you forgot how warm Monaco can be, even in the evenings, and Charles Leclerc laughs, reminding you that you’ve been away for too long.

Certainly long enough for childhood friends to become distant acquaintances, at best.

“It’s weird to think we used to play around these streets,” you say. “We were so stupid. It was dangerous!”

“Well, we were kids.” Charles shrugs. “We thought we knew best.”

He leads you away from his parents’—now mother’s—house and after a moment, you recognise the route as your old path up the hills, to the best vantage points the city could offer. You climb with the expertise of someone whose feet have wandered up the trails a million times before, even if it’s been a decade since the last time.

“I always thought we might get hit by a car someday, but I didn’t care,” you say. “And look at you now, driving cars for a living.”

“Means I get hit by more often than an average person. So, you were right.”

“Right. Just like always.”

“Yeah. You were always right, you know.”

Something about the way he says it, looking at the hill beneath his feet instead of you, sends shivers down your spine.

The further outside the city you go, the quieter it gets. Dozens of memories fly past your eyes, all of the same hike, with the same person by your side, only a child, a teenager.

“What was I right about?”

Charles doesn’t look at you, nor does he answer. You keep hiking in silence and you find yourself getting antsy, fidgeting with a loose string hanging off your t-shirt.

When you get to the top, it’s peaceful. It always has been. You see the whole city from here, all of the lights shining brighter as the sun sets in the distance, and you can’t help but wonder – what went wrong?

So you ask.

He laughs, but it’s nervous. When you look at him, his white shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and the khaki shorts look too expensive against the dirty ground. He’s still got the same pretty face, the dimples in his smile, but he’s a far cry from the boy you grew up with.

“I don’t see the point in talking about it now,” he says.

“If not now, when? It’s been ten years already.”

“Never,” he says. “If I can choose.”

You turn to face him, the sights of Monaco be damned. “Why? We were good, Charles. I was supporting you with your karting, you were supporting me with all the hobbies I ever did…”

“We were good,” he agrees, but it’s almost sad. As if there’s no way back. As if whatever happened, it’s irreversible.

“No, you don’t get to just up and decide you’re never going to speak to your best friend again. You just… You don’t get to do that!”

“You’re right,” he says, nodding. “You’re right.”

“So what’s the issue?! I mean, I thought you were going to be by my side at the altar someday!”

Charles shakes his head, chuckling again, but you can see the watery reflection in his eyes. He doesn’t look at you, and for a moment you wonder what was it that you said that was enough to make him cry, and…

“That was the issue,” Charles says, softly. “I’d be by your side.”

You feel yourself frown. “Isn’t that the whole point?”

“No. It’s not.” He looks at you and you finally see the tears, the redness of his cheeks, and the emotion he’d been restraining for who knows how long. “I didn’t want to be by your side.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N—”

“No. It’s okay. I get it.”

You move a little further from him, pretending your heart hadn’t just been stabbed, but he scoots right back next to you.

“Y/N, let me finish.” When you don’t say anything, he adds, “I wanted to stand opposite of you. That was the issue.”

“Opposite of—oh.”

The past rewrites itself in your head, all those little moments that ever confused you suddenly being crystal clear. You see all the hints you missed or saw and ignored – the refusals to talk about your crushes, the distancing that began when you got into your first relationship, even though it lasted not even two weeks…

And the absence of contact when your family moved away.

“Charles,” you say. “What are you—I don’t understand—”

“You didn’t see me the way I saw you,” he says, “and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

And—in a moment of unprecedented courage—you look him straight in the eyes. “Who says I didn’t?”

A look flashes over your face that tells you he’s experiencing a rewriting of the same kind you experienced moments ago. The moments when you held his hand for a little too long as a kid, when you cheered him on the track even when you were supposed to be on a date, when you listened to him vent about his brothers. You know these moments – and you hope that now, he can see them for what they were, too.

You put a hand on his cheek. He leans into it immediately, as if coming home.

“You know,” you whisper, “I don’t think there’s a moment of my life I didn’t love you. Even the past ten years… All I could do was miss you.”

“Me, too,” he says. “I hated myself for staying away, but I had to. I thought I had to.”

“If you just asked…”

He laughs, again, and it’s nervous all the same – but his hand is on your knee and he’s leaning in, and the air between you is charged. “Asked what? ‘Hey, Y/N, how’s your day? Also, do you happen to be in love with me, too?’ Is that what I should’ve asked?”

“Yes. And I would’ve said yes.”

He sighs; his eyes drop to your lips. “You’re telling me I wasted ten years because I was afraid?”

“Both of us were.”

“So, now…”

You become acutely aware of the distance between the two of you – all it would take is to lean in, ever so slightly, and the friendship barrier would be crossed. As if it hadn’t been crossed all those years ago, before you even knew what love or friendship were.

You smile. “Now you kiss me.”

“Tempting,” he says. “There’s one problem, though.”

“There is?”

Charles’s smile mirrors yours, wide and delighted. “I’m afraid if I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t,” you say, and you kiss him first.

[dootznbootz]

Odysseus always trusted Penelope. He was ordered to lie to her and it hurt him to do so. Penelope was distrustful of this stranger until she had absolute solid proof.

There are way too many people talking about how "Odysseus lies to Penelope. What a prick!" and it makes me sad/mad as that's not the case at all

The whole "Odysseus usually always has a reason to lie" maybe upcoming essay aside, He was literally commanded by Athena to not tell anyone. And it was with Penelope that he had the hardest time keeping up the act with. Not only because she's smart af and figured him out almost immediately (that essay coming soon too) but because he was trying to keep himself from crying with her.

I think people forget that he is disguised to look like someone else completely. If a random man claimed to be your missing husband, wouldn't you be scared/freaked out?

Anyways, the 3 most important people in his life are Penelope, Telemachus, and Laertes. He lies to all three.

Telemachus: Lied by letting Eumaeus answer him and still under the orders from Athena, did not cry or reveal himself until Athena allowed him to. (I read it as him being in shock. Last time he saw him, Telemachus' hand could only wrap around one finger and now he's as big as him. a bit shocking to say the least)

Laertes: He teared up seeing him but still was a little shit.

Penelope: He was trying so hard to keep from crying, tried to noodle his way out of lying to her, Under Athena's orders. still couldn't help but basically flirt with her.

Also to get this outta the way: No, it wasn't a matter of trust. He is shown to trust her right away. As this happens even before he gets the chance to speak with Penelope.

Staunch Odysseus glowed with joy to hear all this— his wife's trickery luring gifts from her suitors now, enchanting their hearts with suave seductive words but all the while with something else in mind.

(Book 18, Fagles)

If Odysseus does not trust her, why is he so happy to see her "flirt" with the suitors? It's because he KNOWS what she's doing and knows she doesn't actually want them. If he didn't trust her, he would be upset by this.

Now for the "it hurt to lie to her" bit.

Athena's command:

"Tell not a single person in the palace, man or woman, that you are back from your wanderings; but endure all vexations in silence and submit yourself to the indignities that will be put upon you.'

(Book 13, Rieu)

If you are my son—truly of our blood—                                            let no one hear Odysseus is back home. Don’t let Laertes know or the swineherd, or the slaves, or Penelope herself.

(Book 16, Johnston)

And the people he did reveal himself to, he only did so after being given permission by Athena.

Athene spoke to him. 'The time has come,' she said, 'royal son of Laertes, Odysseus of the nimble wits, to let Telemachus into your secret, so that the pair of you may plot the downfall and death of the Suitors and then make your way to the famous city. [...]

(Book 15, Rieu)

He talks to Telemachus before talking to Penelope.

I’ll stay here, so I can stir the servants even more— and your mother. As she laments, she’ll ask for each and every detail.”

(Book 19, Johnston)

Odysseus is already sweating about having to lie to her

The next part would honestly be me just inserting almost ALL the text for this so I'll go into a summary. It's all in Book 19.

Penelope asks him where he's from. And instead of answering, it's a tsunami of compliments. Calling her flawless. Comparing her to a king. etc, etc,

Probably because he couldn't help himself and had to babble about how wonderful she is Who wouldn't? before finally ending with "Please don't ask me where I'm from. It makes me sad."

Penelope, probably overwhelmed by his praise, immediately goes into how "her beauty left with her husband. It did not. And where did you say you were from again?"

"Fine! I'm from Crete..."

And we all know that as soon as she starts crying, after a lovely description of how her tears "melted", he talks about how hard it was for Odysseus to hold in his OWN tears. Lying to her and unable to comfort her was painful for him! As he did not want to!

Lord Odysseus in his heart felt great pity for his grieving wife,                                 but he held his eyes steady between his eyelids, like horn or iron, and he kept up his deceit and concealed his tears.

(Book 19, Johnston)

Even with him revealing himself to Euryclea, when she cried out to Penelope, Athena made sure she didn't hear! It's most likely that he wouldn't be able to tell her even if he wanted.

She spoke, and her eyes glanced over at Penelope, anxious to tell her that her husband had come home. But Penelope could not see her face or notice, for Athena had diverted her attention.

(Book 19, Johnston)

He desperately wanted to be with her again. Literally daydreaming about it!

Then Dawn appeared on her golden throne. As she wept, lord Odysseus heard her and lost himself in thought. To his heart she seemed to know him and was standing beside his head.

(book 20, Johnston)

Clearly doesn't trust her. /sarcasm

It's PENELOPE that has trouble trusting him. And rightfully so! While she was very certain that was her husband, there was so much going on and of course, she's cautious! He looked like an elderly stranger at first, why is he hiding from her? He somehow took out all those men with only a little help, Athena isn't telling her anything, Helen was kidnapped and she did not want that to possibly happen to her too, etc.

He even understands her cautiousness to be reasonable.

As she spoke, lord Odysseus, who had borne so much, smiled and immediately spoke to Telemachus— his words had wings:   “Telemachus, let your mother test me in these halls. She will soon possess more certain knowledge. Right now I’m filthy, with disgusting clothing on my body. That’s why she rejects me and will not say I am Odysseus. [...]

(Book 23, Johnston)

He even trusted her completely to take care of everything while he was gone before. And he does again when he wakes up and goes to see his father. Telling her about how she too wise to need instruction

Odysseus (and Penelope as well) is well-known for his cunning tricks and how his loyalties are often blurred but one thing that is for sure about him is that he trusts and is loyal to Penelope full-heartedly. He spent every day missing her and their son and wanting to go home to her. The only moment we see his trust in her waver is during the Treebed scene, (which is what she wanted to test).

They are "like-minded". 😭

[joethehoeee]

Rise of titans actually made me laugh for so stupid reasons and I wanted to share this with you.

It's insane honestly.

THE PURE LOOK OF HORROR IN STRICKLER'S FACE WHEN JIM FALLS TO HIS DEATH AND THEN-

Barb is like 😯

Mrs. Lake, your son is falling to a cruel and unimaginably painful death and THAT is your reaction? Even you won't be able to fix him up after that, even if you are a good doctor.

Strickler looks so desprately fearful as if it is the worst thing he could ever imagine (it may be) and Barb is like "oh, well, surprised he made it this far"

GIRL THAT’S YOUR SON!!!!! YOUR S-O-N!!!

Where did the worried mother from 3 damn seasons go? Why is she not here.

And before you ask, this is not just an unconventional screenshot, it's the whole shot. (as far as I remember, tbh I refuse to rewatch it more than once)

Like real talk, this is so funny to me.

The difference is insane...(I should stop using that word...but I don't know anything else)

Walter could be used for memes tbh.

I BEG YOU ALL. Make memes as much as you can. Unrelated or related to trollhunters. That would be so funny !!! We need to take over the fandom!

[vixen-tech]

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

[mayakern]

hey maya! i’m a big fan of your stuff and i have a growing collection of skirts and some pins of yours ^^ i was just wondering, the first skirt i have from you is a cotton blend, (the peony print) and all the others i’ve bought since then are synthetic. i really much preferred the cotton, even with some pilling after wear (though that’s likely on me for not following the wash instructions-) though the synthetic fabric is much lighter when i put things in the pockets the waistband droops, which is kind of disappointing.. anyway, tl;dr, i know you switched manufacturers, but why material?

i’m glad you like my work!

as i said this morning, the old manu skirts were a polyester jersey. this did mimic cotton jersey to a certain extent, but it was always polyester and this was always listed clearly on our store (pretending it was cotton would actually be illegal if we had done that).

you can also read that post to see why we made the switch.

additionally, different manufacturers have different materials they will and won’t work with based on their access and their standards. there are a lot of fabrics our factory won’t work with for either reason. for example, they refuse point blank to make or work with jeans material because it is so bad for the environment.

for your future edification, in general, if you see a garment that is made by a small business and uses that large amount of custom printed fabric and is priced at $50-60 and is claiming to be cotton, in all likelihood they are either lying about the material, they are using suspiciously cheap labor, they are taking an incredibly thin profit margin that isn’t sustainable for most businesses, or the material may contain harmful substances like lead or pfas in order to drive the price point down.

custom printed cotton made with ethical labor is incredibly expensive and custom printing is necessary to achieve our more unique hem design patterns. repeating patterns can be roll printed and this is cheaper but has a higher minimum order requirement and tbh i would still recommend using your best judgement to see where money has been saved in the production process:

does the garment use less fabric or fewer stitches?

are there raw hems?

if you pull on one thread in a seam, does the whole seam unravel?

does it have stretch material, which is harder to sew but fits more bodies, therefor requiring fewer returns?

does the garment require few or no specialty sewing techniques, like sewing elastic or buttons or gussets or darts? (these drive price up a LOT)

was the garment made in china, which does not require the business to pay the same import tariffs that are charged on garments imported from other countries?

does the manufacturer have any certifications for ethical labor, environmental impact, or quality/non-harmful materials?

all of these have a significant impact on a garment’s price

as for the skirt being a bit loose, i recommend using waist tighteners like these if you want a snugger fit.

anyway i’ve answered this question and ones similar to it many times in the past and we have specifically answered this like 3 times in the past 2 days, so this question can take a break—if not forever, then for a significant portion of time. hope this clears up some things for you!

[everythingwasnormalhere]

actually I've been thinking about it and kenny is so disability-coded???

like, even without my chronic pain headcanon, if we only take the canon material, he's incredibly disability-coded and im not sure why nobody's mentioned it before

Ok so, first thing first, south park isn't exactly known out of its community for having the best rep of... anything, actually, but anyone who's watched the show knows it has some of the best disability representation of any piece of media. Jimmy and Timmy, neither of their characters revolve around being disabled - they don't even make much fun of it! (It's south park, they have to make fun of everything). Their characters are complex, not because they're disabled, but because the writers didn't want to make them revolve around that. And if you don't believe me, please just watch the fucking show or at least their episodes (this is however not about them so I won't say much more about them, there's some pretty cool posts on this site that talk about this in more detail if you wanna read more though)

Now, onto Kenny: Kenny is a pretty cool guy. Fandom favorite, well-known even by people who don't watch south park. And besides how he's incredibly cute (like, c'mon, you heard his little "woohoo!"?), the reason why he's so famous is simple: He dies in every episode.

(well, not every ep in the latest seasons, but at the beginning he did and that's enough for me)

You might be thinking, "hey Loki, that's cool, but I have no fucking idea where this is going". And I'll tell you: his constant deaths actively avoid him doing stuff. Dying makes him spend less time with his friends, he can't take part in their shenanigans, he's generally unable to do things due to dying 24/7. Like, hell, he spent a whole season not hanging out with the guys because he was too dead for that! His friends substituted him, and he's still less-there since that happened.

This means: the impairment 'has a substantial and long-term adverse effect on their ability to carry out normal day-to-day activities'

(because he can't carry out normal day-to-day activities when he's, you know, fucking deceased)

Also, as Kenny himself says, "'Pretty cool'? Do you know how it feels like to be stabbed, to be shot, decapitated, torn apart, burned, run over? It's not 'pretty cool' Kyle! It fucking hurts!". His deaths cause him actual, physical pain. And guess what's a disability criteria?

You guessed: they have a 'physical or mental impairment'

(it "fucking hurts", I think that's physically impairing enough)

Also, his deaths have slowed down for the last few seasons, sure, but they still happen. And this is important, because they'll probably keep happening for the rest of his life - and if not, they've already lasted long enough anyway:

A 'substantial adverse effect' means more than just a minor impact on someone's life or how they can do certain things. This may fluctuate or change and may not happen all the time.'Long-term' means either:it will affect them or is likely to affect them for at least 12 months it's likely to last for the rest of their life It can still be considered long-term if the effects come and go. For example, a fluctuating condition might affect someone for a few months at a time with other times when they're not affected.

So, yeah. Kenny, canonical Kenneth McCormick, legally qualifies as disabled. But what makes him such good rep? He's still a well-loved character, not only in spite of his disability (yes, I'm calling his deaths a disability, sue me), but also because of it. Kenny is a pretty cool guy, he's cute, he's silly, he's a goddamn perv but really respectful about it too, and he dies in every episode which is actually hilarious. And about the perv part - fuck yeah, disabled character who not only isn't asexual, but is canonically the first in his friend group to do (consensual) sexual things! He's also canonically pretty desirable, he's the 7th in the List after all (and he's not just there for the girls' benefit like Clyde, Kenny is poor asf which means they genuinely find him desirable, and probably could've ended in the top 5 had it not been rigged). He's such a cool guy, and he's also disabled, and we love him for it.

Not to talk about Mysterion & PK, whose literal powers are the things that disable Typical Kenny - which, yeah, it's a bit of inspiration porn, but it's also a huge "fuck you" to god on Kenny's side. And it's not like "hey, I rose over my disability!", the moment in which Kenny talks (complains) most about it is actually when he's playing Mysterion - or it is in the show, at least. He was given bullshit, and yet he used it on his own benefit, but that didn't make the struggle disappear in his usual life - he's still disabled, no matter how much he uses it in his own favor. And we all love him for that.

I think he's actually awesome disability rep, mostly because he's accidental representation, and yet can (and in my opinion should) be read that way. Kenny McCormick is a beloved character everywhere, and he's also canonically disabled, and I love him for it.

[edynsgarden]

The Orchid

Chapter 1

There had been whispers of an American Jujutsu sorcerer with a cursed technique that rendered them unstoppable. No one could identify this sorcerer by face, but they were recognizable by photos of each cursed spirit with an orchid beside it. Typically, gossip about foreign sorcerers did not carry across the ocean to Japan, the pillar of Jujutsu, but it seemed that this American sorcerer dubbed “the orchid” was the only topic of conversation in the Jujutsu world. While many higher ups and special grade sorcerers feared the arrival of The Orchid, Satoru Gojo was excited. Finally, a rival, an equal, or maybe… a lover.

Story Warnings: heavy smut, breeding kink, spanking, spitting, violence, mentions of abuse, blood

Chapter Warnings: none <3 (no smut this chapter)

Chapter 0.5 - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Chapter 1/1

Upon their arrival to the courtyard, they noticed there had been some new decorative decisions made by the new guest. An orchid plant, fruitful with hundreds of different flowers sat on a small table right in the middle of the courtyard. The two were fixated on the plant for a short while, cursed energy emanating off of the flowers like a nuclear bomb of curses. “So where is he?” Gojo asked, tired as the sun was starting to set. “I’m right here.” The Orchid said in a mocking tone. Eyes widening, Gojo briskly turned around preparing himself to obliterate the unknown figure. He was immensely confused. How did he not sense their cursed energy? The figure in front of him was not a human, simply a blur, an amalgamation of particles, with no features to distinguish what they looked like.  “How did you–why couldn’t I sense your cursed energy like I can sense it now?” He asked. “Well, that's all in my cursed technique but I’ve prepared a whole monologue for that so sit tight and I promise I’ll tell you. Oh shit! Pardon my French. I forgot to revert to my human form, sorry about that. How rude of me!” The blur of particles began to reform itself into a human figure, not just human but a beautiful figure of “a girl?” Gojo whispered to Masamichi. The girl had long, dark hair, dark eyes, and tan skin. Gojo couldn’t help but look at her figure as she was wearing a white tank top and a tropical flower-printed skirt, so American. “Okay! Now it's time for me to get serious. You should all take a seat.” the Orchid said, conjuring up two recliner movie seats out of thin air. “Mr. Gojo, my cursed technique is very similar to yours, but just in a more physical state than atomic. I can rearrange matter to be anything I want! But, it takes a whole lot of cursed energy, but I can siphon that energy from other beings since I can control their physical states, taking their cursed energy and mending it with mine.” The last fact was interesting to both Gojo and Masamichi. It meant that you could get stronger boundlessly, having no shortage of cursed spirits or objects. “Well– oh wait! I forgot to ask, would you guys like some snacks? I know this is kinda long.” “No, we-” “I do.” Gojo interjects.  After that comment, a large buttered popcorn appeared in Gojo’s lap. “I think I’m starting to like this girl,” Gojo said to Masamichi. What he was never going to tell Masamichi was that he was becoming completely infatuated with her. Not only was she gorgeous, but she was smart, rambling on and on about atomic theory. “–but aside from that, my main point is that I want to work with Satoru Gojo.” The thought of working with you excited Gojo. For some reason, the thought that she could possibly annihilate him exhilarated and somewhat aroused him.  “While Gojo may be capable of handling every cursed threat out there, he still had some weak points. I've read about the incident with Toji Fushiguro, if I was there, Toji would be on that orchid plant with all of the other special grade curses I’ve captured.” “Wait what?” Masamichi and Gojo say in unison. “Oh yeah, that orchid plant is my special grade orchid plant. It is what I use to siphon the cursed energy from the special-grade curses I encounter. Once they are completely drained and exorcized, their orchid falls off and dies. When a cursed spirit is manipulated into a new shape, an orchid per se, it becomes completely incapacitated so I can funnel its cursed energy directly to me with no worries at all. The process is completely irreversible for everyone other than me, so it really is foolproof.” At this moment, Jujutsu High needed a powerful ally, especially one with wit and power to stop the most powerful curse in the world. After a shared glance between Masamichi and Gojo, the strongest let out a low grunt as he readjusted himself in his recliner before quickly responding. “Well, I guess that settles it. You can work here, with me, on one condition. You help me save my student from Ryomen Sukuna.”

[moirindeclermont]

Daily thread about BridgertonS3 and can I truly controversial? The entrapment comment didn't bother me. While obviously cruel, it's justified. I'm not saying he did it for the right reason, but that in anger one may say stuff they don't mean.

Colin has a cold strike wild a mile when he's hurt, I feel like it's his way to control the situation. That being said, what he said was cruel, maybe too much so, but in anger you may say things you don't necessarily think.

I think he understands Pen because they are mirrors of each other's, but then he gets carried away with the external pressure.

The whole arc was to get him to the point where he accept he doesn't need to save her and instead he can have a true partnership with her.

But just because he never seemed like an explosive type, doesn't mean he is not. I'd argue, in fact, that he is an explosive type. Not like Anthony, but he has this deep, deep stuff that he hides from anyone.

Again, internalized emotions.

He just feels so much, so intensely, but since he never tells so, when he does it seems out of the blue.

Moreover, do you see how much of the cold strike I talked about is reflected in Pen through LW? She does the same in a different way, especially in the first seasons. How they both use words (because they are both writers) to hurt? It's always the quiet one indeed.

Colin is a very observant person, I don't find it strange at all that in anger he may say the one thing he knows he will hurt the most. Idk when green flag become synonymous with no conflict, that not how it works.

You can be a green flag, and make mistakes and say things in anger, even hurt people. The thing that makes you a truly green flag is the capacity to recognize you did wrong, apologize and then make actions to correct hour mistake.

And Colin, the man he is, never fails to be accountable on his mistakes. Every time he is out of his way, he found his way back to Pen (and into my heart) by being himself.

I vastly prefer a man that owns his mistakes (and can be angry sometimes) to one that squish all his emotions until explodes. I vastly prefer a man with whom I can have constructive conflict over, to one that regards me with a silent treatment. He said a wrong thing, it's true. But that doesn't negate anything else. It just makes him more human.

[jtophat]

My Ponyboy Curtis playlist because I love it, I listen to it quite frequently even when I’m not writing stuff involving him, and want to share it.

Fast Car- Tracy Chapman

Imagine- John Lennon

Dark Days- Punch Brothers

Mama Tried- Grateful Dead (The song is originally by Merle Haggard but I listen to the Grateful Dead version)

East Side of Sorrow- Zach Bryan

hope ur okay- Olivia Rodrigo

Renegades- X-Ambassadors

Everybody Wants To Rule The World- Tears For Fears

Boy In The Bubble- Alec Benjamin

Uptown Girl- Billy Joel

Everybody Knows- Sigrid

Friends In Low Places- Garth Brooks

Winter’s Come and Gone- Charles Wesley Godwin (Song originally by Gillian Welch but I feel like this version fits Ponyboy better)

teenage dream- Olivia Rodrigo

Youth- Daughter

Teenage Dirtbag- Wheatus

Friend of the Devil- Grateful Dead

You’re On Your Own Kid- Taylor Swift

Here Comes The Sun- The Beatles

Tomorrow Will Be Kinder- The Secret Sisters

My reason/analysis for each song is below:

Fast Car- I think the desperation for a better life but the cycle of how life can drag you down and make you live the same lives as the people is something that can relate to Pony. I feel like, deep down, he probably has a fear that things may not work out for him as well as people hope and that he may end up living the same kind of life as the rest of the people in his neighborhood which is why I also think it’s a great song to choose to have as the opener for the playlist. I know Luke Combs has a cover of this song and that it may be the more masculine take on it but I feel like the way Tracy Chapman sings it just has so much heart that it really works for Ponyboy. And plus, Tracy Chapman is my favorite artist so I had to go with her version.

Imagine- I think the song has a bit of a daydreamy kind of vibe that can represent how Ponyboy is described as having his head in the clouds. The song is also a call for peace and unity among people and asks them to imagine a world where what divides them no longer exists which is something that I can see Ponyboy longing for.

Dark Days- The song is about how love getting people through difficult times which is something that I think really works for the Curtis brothers because no matter what they love each other and will do whatever they can to help each other, especially after their parents die.

Mama Tried- I think the song works really well for the vibe of the gang as a whole even if it’s something that may directly relate to Ponyboy. And even if Ponyboy doesn’t get into much trouble I’m sure that he gets into more than his mother would have wanted for him (especially after goes on the run for Bob’s murder)

East Side of Sorrow- I think there is so much about the song that relate to so many people in the story but I’ll try to keep my analysis limited to Ponyboy. I think while when song talks about fighting a war that you don’t even know what your fighting for works well for the metaphorical war between the Greasers and the Socs in the books. It’s been going on long before Pony and will continue long after him and no matter what he will never fully understand it even though he too participates in it. “I lost friends in the August heat” I feel really relates to Johnny and Dally’s death, because it was probably about that time that the book takes place. And when the song talks about losing someone in the waiting room and that the doctor did all the could it really brings home the point about Johnny’s death. The song then mentions walking around the Tulsa streets while feeling fucked up which represent Pony’s depression after the death of Johnny and Dally and how he was aimlessly going through life. I also like how the song specifically refers to the east, and of course the Greasers live on the East side of Tulsa. The song then also talks about the sunrise as a symbol of optimism for the future and the sun imagery really works for Ponyboy. After all, sunrises can’t really be that different than sunsets for him.

hope ur okay- I feel like this is how Ponyboy will look back on the people he knew in Tulsa once he finally moves away. I also like how the song references a towhead blonde which is also similar to how Ponyboy describes Dally.

Renegades- I feel like this song really works for Johnny and Pony running away from Tulsa. Even though it’s a bit optimistic for the events in the book, I still feel like it also works for their friendship too.

Everybody Wants To Rule The World- I feel like Ponyboy would really dig the instrumentals of the song and the references to well, people wanting to rule the world works for the story in an odd way that I can’t quite explain. But the vibe of it just really works

Boy In The Bubble- I feel like the beginning of the song is really reminiscent of how Ponyboy and the rest of the gang will get jumped by Socs but in the end where it discusses the home life of the person who attacked the singer represents Ponyboy gaining an understanding of how things are rough all over Tulsa and that even Socs have problems

Uptown Girl- I feel like once Ponyboy starts liking girls (if he does even like girls because I’m not entirely convinced that boy is straight) he would mainly have a thing for Soc girls. The song is about a lower class boy wanting to get with an upper class girl which is what I can see for Ponyboy in the future.

Everybody Knows- The Greasers have the cards stacked against them and everybody knows this, especially Ponyboy.

Friends In Low Places- I was debating between this and Heathens but this won because it’s country (I feel like the gang would really like country music) and the friends in low places is an obvious reference to the gang. I also think that in a way it shows how Ponyboy is out of place in his classes because he’s a Greaser and there are a lot of Socs in them.

Winter’s Come and Gone- I love the outdoorsy vibe of the song and think that Pony would too. I also like the lyrics “so long now I’ve been out in the rain in snow” because I think it can work as a really interesting way of portraying the gangs struggles and how Ponyboy doesn’t feel like he entirely fits in.

teenage dream- Ponyboy really hates it when people refer to him as being a kid which is a sentiment that I think this song shares. I also think it has a slight desperation to be taken seriously which is something that I also think that Ponyboy relates to.

Youth- It only loosely relates but has lyrics like “if you’re still breathing your the lucky ones” which in a way works because it shows that even things are tough, as long as you’re still alive you’re pretty lucky. Because, as we see in the novel, Greasers tend to die young so those of them who still able to keep on living are pretty lucky.

Teenage Dirtbag- I feel like the title of song is probably a bit about how Ponyboy feels about himself. I also think that song relates a bit to teen who are bit more into counter culture/ may get into a bit more trouble which I think works really well with Ponyboy.

Friend of the Devil- From the title alone I think it works. Ponyboy is friends with a lot of troubled people, and some of them, like Dally, some people probably consider a bit devilish. The song as a whole may not perfectly work with Ponyboy but I feel like the vibe of it does

You’re On Your Own Kid- I feel like this is really a Ponyboy in twenty years looking back at his life/childhood kind of song. And also shows how at the end of the day, and even though the gang wants to help him, the only person who is truly looking out for him is himself. He’s not like the rest of the gang. He’s on his own.

Here Comes The Sun- The song has a really optimistic tone has promises of a better future. It also has a lot of sun imagery

Tomorrow Will Be Kinder: The song is hopeful for a future that is better than the present. I think that is the kind of sentiment that Ponyboy holds onto throughout life, especially during his childhood. I think if he doesn’t develop that kind of outlook he will probably be depressed for most of his life.

Some my analysis for this stuff is better than others and not all songs directly relate to Ponyboy, or even the gang/Greasers, but I think the vibe for each song works.

[accio-victuuri]

i’m all for ignoring anti rhetoric but sometimes i have the time to talk about it, especially if i see some international fans using it to discredit yibo. there was some talk that jiangxi satellite tv removed yibo in the opening sequence of WOF. which didn’t make sense at all when i saw the rumor, because all the satellite tv weibo posts about is yibo. i think they heard about that and decided to quickly shut the haters up. the account posted this today, along with the opening credits of the drama with ruolai in it.

they are so savage 😂😂😂😂

and the thing is, these antis are so stupid. accusing jiangxi satellite tv? Wei Ruolai is from Jiangxi. JX was painted as a really patriotic place, the city itself had a huge boost in visitors because of the show too. so there is no reason for them to remove lai lai. this is the kind of narrative antis like to sow, and if you are gullible — you may believe it.

same goes with the whole dapeng unfollowed yibo. wait. do they even follow each other in the first place? i don’t think so. i was also questioning it, cause when yibo was making his speech, the camera kept panning to dapeng who was clapping and looked like he was in support of bobo. there was a video of him coming down the stairs too and was waving at someone, the popular guess was dapeng or wang chuanjun. some people are even using the way wyb was never on his seat during the event— which is something he does every often. if you are a fan, you should know this. and knowing how popular yibo is ( his name accounted for 53% of the conversation during weibo night ), some antis hoping it would fade a bit because of the magnolia issue. it didn’t. they are getting desperate to create a new narrative. and that is yibo is being “excluded” in the movie circle. he is not. maybe i’m giving dapeng the benefit of the doubt because of what he did during OnO promotion.

i know people are sensitive right now because of what happened and a certain someone being so shameless in the way they are using bobo and the magnolia controversy for their own benefit. a lot of us feel burned, i get it. i think we just have to remember that c-ent is vicious and this is all business. wyb’s sincerity and warmth can be used against him. we just have to focus on yibo. it’s okay if people are nice to him and he makes friends. but only trust and support yibo. don’t let some anti narratives that pretend to protect bobo influence you.

that’s all. focus on the good things we have now and the content. 💕🫶🏼

[frazzledsoul]

Not to defend my girl Alicent again because I'm constantly doing that, but the reason she didn't let Heleana get married to Jace was not because she's "an evil, selfish c**t" who hates Heleana and wants her to be miserable (gawd, HOTD discourse is the worst, I swear).

As far as Alicent is concerned, Rhaenyra is dumb, reckless, and prizes her libido above everything else. She's the privileged princess who gets to do whatever she wants because Viserys is always one step behind her cleaning up her mess, and Alicent and her kids are barely acknowledged by him. Yes, she's jealous and resentful, but also she is objectively right. Rhaenyra is a moron who constantly makes terrible decisions. She shamed their family by almost having public sex with Daemon in a brothel, she coerced Criston into sex, she lied to Alicent about the whole ordeal in a sacred space. She could have married any age-appropriate prince in the kingdom and yet she did all that shit anyway. In the time since then, she's had multiple blatantly illegitimate children by her bodyguard and has placed them in line for the throne, endangering the entire family, and yet she keeps doing it anyway and Viserys keeps letting her.

Alicent definitely doesn't have the language for the concept, but she knows Heleana is "special" and will not do well finding a husband and she doesn't want her under the control of another family who will abuse that. She also knows that Viserys doesn't give a shit what happens to any of the younger kids, so it's all up to her to protect Heleana. She doesn't trust Rhaenyra and she knows Viserys won't be around much longer to protect her from the consequences of her actions. That's why she turns down the proposal. Not because she hates Heleana and wants her to be unhappy.

Now, what would have happened if Alicent had agreed to it? Well, Aemond still likely claims Vhagar, he still gets into a fight with Rhaenyra and Daemon's brood and loses his eye, Rhaenyra still likely orders him tortured for publicly outing her "secret", Viserys still takes her side, and Alicent and Rhaenyra still likely get into an altercation. I don't think the proposal would have prevented any of that and Alicent isn't letting Heleana get into Rhaenyra's clutches now that a feud has started among the younger kids and she's vulnerable to violence she can't prevent or even really discuss afterwards. Oh, and then Rhaenyra married Daemon and moves away to a distant castle. There is absolutely no way Alicent is letting Daemon have unlimited access to her baby girl in an environment where she can't escape. Even if she had let Heleana go with them, it probably wouldn't have prevented the fight between the Strong boys and Alicent's sons that happens later, and Luke and Aemond are still probably going to go at it at some point and war will still have happened. Jace may be decent and well-intentioned, but he's also spoiled and can be a hothead, and his intentions won't be able to prevent everything else that is still going to happen.

So, yes. Alicent kept Heleana with her and married her to her brother in order to protect her. She also probably did it because she knew Aegon was reckless and hedonistic just like Rhaenyra, and figured if she kept an eye on both of them she'd be able to control the situation. It was in many ways a bad decision that opened Heleana up to a lot more abuse than she would have gotten from Jace (unfortunately, the possibility that she gives birth to twins at FOURTEEN as a result of sex she didn't want to have is still likely) but Alicent didn't do it because she hated her kids. She wanted to protect them, and in her mind this was the only way to do it.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The supernatural episode where John returns broke me when John tells Sam that he is proud of him, like Sam always had that unresolved conflict with his father, Dean's unresolved conflict was having dinner with the whole family together. What would be the Winchester sister's conflict with John? How would that interaction occur in that chapter?

I think the main reason the little sister would have unresolved conflict would be because she doesn’t remember John very much. Like she has memories of him and she remembers how much she loved him, but whenever Sam or Dean mention him he just always seems bad (Dean talking about how he got left at a boys home, or Sam making that crack about cheap beer being the reason John took them to wrestling matches). I think she would be conflicted between her feeling for him and what she knows about him. When he comes back and apologizes and she can see just how much he loves them (even though he wasn’t always able to do right by them), she’d finally be able to understand him, and that would be what she always wanted.

There are so many things that she wishes she could’ve done with him though—things a girl is supposed to do with her dad—but they just don’t have time for them all. However, they do share a moment. Sam says that he doesn’t want the little sister to have to see John go, so John decides to put her to bed one last time. He goes to her room and for a while he just looks at it. She asks him why, and he just smiles and says—

“I always wanted you to have your own room. You didn’t deserve those motels—none of you kids did.”

He wanders around for a minute before he sees a record player by her bed. He puts in the first record he finds and starts it up. She just watches him, not sure what he’s doing, until he reaches out his hand and says,

“May I have this dance?”

And she laughs and grabs his hand, and they dance around for a minute before she asks—

“What’s this for?”

“Every daddy-daughter dance I’ve missed,” John says.

He twirls her around for a few minutes until the song ends, and then he turns the record player off and tucks her into bed.

“I’m gonna miss you,” she says, and now she’s almost crying.

“Hey,” John soothes. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart.” And she smiles, because he said it just like Dean does. “Let’s just be glad we got today, ok?”