#something something old lady nursing home meme

[thesherrinfordfacility]

and one day there's going to be a bronze statue unveiled at bafta hq and decades from now people will see it and be like oh david tennant was he nominated a bunch of times nice but someone will have to explain to them that it's bc he brought in record viewers in 2024 bc of his iconic role as a sopping wet paper bag quivering chihuahua demon in a 6000 year slow burn with a cunty ass angel, and he had the public in a chokehold bc he and his co-star refused to let go of the bit for a single second. oh and the statue is him in the kilt

[do-you-have-a-flag]

Destiel shippers come get ya’ll juice!

SO @deadwright​ and I were inspired by Some Tumblr Posts and the twitter Roadhouse  Wedding stuff and keep writing headcanons about Thee Destiel 2021 Married Ever After S16 SPN Romantic Event Of The Season, so here’s that. 

Arranged in order of marital chronology and cutting out us keysmashing too much:

oh man imagine all the burgers they get catered for the reception dean got it done himself he would’ve been so particular about the catering bridezilla cas would probably be THEE bitchiest bridezilla

it's also definitely that trope where all the other hunters ect KNOW that that many of them and the wedding party are essentially a target for trouble so everyone spends the 24 hours leading up to the vows taking out every beastie who shows up on a revenge kick out of sight because they'll be damned if they let ANYTHING stop this wedding and Dean and cas are both having their marital jitters oh god im not good enough what if something goes wrong about mundane things while monsters are getting their ass kicked outside AWWWWWWWW for sure for sure, they’re hunter royalty this wedding is a big deal like half the attendees are nursing injuries but grinning widely

they don't do the can't see eachother before the wedding thing because you KNOW dean would be fixing cas' tie last minute

dean wears a blue pocket square to match cas' tie cas wears a FLANNEL SQUARE

I’m obsessed w the idea of cas giving dean a little bit of his grace in a small bottle on a chain for him to wear or like a wing feather or some part of him god the grace in a bottle breaks me every time in fic dean probably builds cas something but every time i try to think of something specific i choke up

i was thinking like what if trading grace is as close to a romantic gesture as angels have and he's like..... technically i left some grace behind in your mark when i dragged you from the pit and dean is like ARE YOU SAYING WE'VE BEEN MARRIED THIS WHOLE TIME? 

they are so sweet i’m on the verge of tears the ability to do anything by halves in their relationship was burnt out by like the second return from the dead moment they are too insane to be anything less than All In And Then Some

at one point someone was like hey cas do you want to run your vows by someone as practice? and he started reading what he'd prepared and it devolved into Biblically Grand Statements Of The Power Of Love And The Redemption Of - ect ect ect and it's because unlike the confession scene he's had TOO much preparation and overshot into uncanny angelic vibes he makes some edits because he know the expressions he gets when he reads it aren't what he intended

dean writes page after page after page of unused drafts, none of them are particularly floral

he does the cliche of ripping up his vows and improvising at the altar, something he gets mercilessly teased for because he swore he wouldn't but it classifies as a chick flick moment

THAT’S SO PEAK HIM OH MY GOD and you knoooooow you just KNOW it’s beautiful and emotional and everyone is crying

god the NOVELTY of dean being emotionally honest in front of people......im gonna faint YEA yeah... ONE TIME ONLY DEAL he thinks loudly at Sam's smug expression

anyway, at the wedding dean is the one who spends the whole ceremony with like crying cat meme eyes after the confession scene i’m pretty sure the minute the vows start cas is in the same boat USELESS HUSBANDS dean gets passed a handkerchief for his tears and immediately goes to use it on cas' face and they both laugh sob love the idea that everyone individually thought they were too tough to cry but they all broke at various stages yeah sam definitely starts to choke up just standing up there with his brother sam chokes up before the ceremony even started, like probably when he was pinning on dean’s corsage

anyway, Jack dancing with his two dads at the reception CAS’ BEST MAN / FLOWER BOY FLOWER MAN let him heelie down the aisle with the flowers LITTLE MAN GO NYOOM who makes him a little flower crown he wears with a proud lil smile? claire ofc, with those hair braiding skills? she makes it BEAUTIFUL flower crown: on nails: painted dads: MARRIED!!!!

when they say i do and kiss and everyone is cheering you can't convince me that someone doesn't let off what is either a gun or a dubiously legal firework in celebration jack pops a few lightbulbs in his uncontrollable joy

Dean and Cas can't let go of each other, it's at LEAST one point of physical contact for the rest of the reception PERIODT

CAN YOU IMAGINE THEM DANCING TO AIR SUPPLY

they definitely didn't do the wedding gifts thing but a few mysteriously show up anyway; discuss waffle iron from sam bc he remembers the becky incident meanwhile claire gets them flavoured lube because she’s an insane little mean girl she gets them a sampler package with like novelty flavours, gotta spring extra for a wedding PIE FLAVOURED LUBE

it’s gonna be the party of the century omfg you KNOW it! that dancefloor going OFF the BAR is FLOWING

dean gets dragged up onto the bar to make a speech and there's a moment at the end where he drags cas up there too and they're being playfully yelled at not to scuff it and there's hooting and catcalls as dean and cas kiss and dean gestures rudely before almost falling backwards off the bar before cas grabs him and climbing down is less romantic or dignified but he couldn't care if he wanted to

meanwhile sam and claire are outside defacing the impala with silly string and lewd graffiti and tin cans tied to the bumper for the going-away oh it is one hundo percent a just married atrocity there's enough condoms hidden in the car that they're still finding them months later

anyway wanna hear my disgustingly soppy honeymoon roadtrip concept? YOU KNOW I DO OKAY SO

you know at some point dean must have said some sad thing like for the longest time he never thought he'd live long enough to get married and the only circumstances he could imagine was hooking up drunkenly with a stranger at some vegas wedding scenario like that's the best he would ever get and he thinks it's mostly forgotten but then during their cross country honeymoon roadtrip castiel does in fact navigate them to las vegas and quietly mutters that the legal veracity of the little chapel on the city limits is dubious at best and they're already married so it couldn't do any harm and they get officiated by an elvis impersonator and a woman wearing more sequins than fabric throws cheap confetti over them

and after that they stop into every venue they can find that would be friendly to them to pretend they're eloping and at one point dean even pulls out the fbi id badges and the officiant is under the impression he's facilitating some sort of covert workplace romance 

one place is a kitchy little house that's clearly just the couple who run it opening their strange home to anyone who needs it and have been since the 70s and Castiel thinks for a moment when they're asked to pin something to the collection of stuff on the walls and ceiling before pulling the receipt for the pie they'd shared earlier in a dinner out and scrawling his and dean's name on it to be added to the clutter 

and at one point they stand ankle deep in a pond while some old hippie lady wraps their clasped hands together with soft fabric and chants something that dean knows isn't real magic but hey he's not going to tell her that and after the ceremony they sit on the grass and feed each other sweet bread to complete the binding or whatever and it's nice but it doesn't compare to the ranch where they both tossed their cowboy hats in the air and were given a horse to ride to their camp site

i thought about riverboat gambling for point one seconds and now i know in my bones that one of their many weddings was on a riverboat, they made the captain officiate after cornering him on deck in like five minutes, the crew sent them complimentary champagne and they threw fries at the birds following the boat while sharing it straight out of the bottle

if destiel can go canon multiple times they can get married multiple times CHANGE MY MIND THEY GET MARRIED SO MUCH the MOST married i just want them to get gay cowboy married

eventually i want them to end up at the beach bc dean has canonically never been to the coast their road trip is to get to the other coast

they send just married postcards back to sam from every stop sam stops feeling hurt he was left out of their vegas elopement wedding by the third wedding postcard he recieves sam saves them ofc bc GOD can you imagine them looking at the postcards on their 30th anniversary or s/t 🥺 showing their grandkids and recounting the story of each wedding there's a seashell taped to the last one

cas gets a terrible sunglasses tan and dean gets burnt on the tips of his ears and there's sand on sand on sand in all their clothes and at one point dean is blinking away salt water and cas is gripping his arm and saying something about the coral by them in the water and dean thinks that he likes floating beside cas a lot better than flying

dean has cas pick ice cream for them from a truck and hustles at carnival games enough to win them both big novelty foam hats and they both go back to their room and pass out immediately post shower sprawled across the bed and still smelling like sunscreen and salt water

dean tucks a little cocktail umbrella behind cas’ ear

cas spends most of the next day in dean's zepplin shirt and a pair of shorts they only picked up once they got there because neither of them thought to bring beach clothes, they sit on the balcony and dean sips his beer and idly plays with the ring on cas' finger and they play a game of what fictional monsters could they beat in a fight

cas’ true form is the size of the chrysler building he can fight king kong easy that's what he says and dean's like okay but what about mothra and castiel is like how would YOU defeat mothra and dean just goes "bugspray." GDJSGSHSGSHDSJ DEAN WOULD

in honour of misha putting his whole pussy into the role, cas wears a dress in at least one of their weddings

it's at one of those theme parks that's just historical re-enactments and people get their vows renewed there and there's costumes for the photobooth and the staff are like how long have you been married? castiel says two weeks, three days, eighteen hours, and twenty five minutes................ approximately.  and the photo is cas in a classical wedding gown and dean is wearing the veil with his old timey suit and there's a moose head on the wall behind them wearing the top hat he was given and they send that print with an arrow pointing at the moose with sam written next to it

i keep thinking bitch!!!! you KNOW WHAT!! you KNOW that dean is the type a guy who's heart races every time he feels his wedding ring/is always fiddling with it in the weeks after the wedding, like an anchor to remind him they really got married this is real he would NEED that physical reminder that he can have good things

he’s never ever going to take it off, the tan line will be permanent

how funny it would be if dean gets injured on a hunt and the monster guy is about to kill him and then the lights blow out and the monsters are like what was that and dean is just like "[spits blood] that's my husband." and nek minnit cas has just ripped through them thanks to teleporting in angel style and is just like Cas: [heals dean] "you're late for movie night" Dean: "Well if you'd gotten here earlier i would have been on time." Cas: >:| [kisses him]

cas is like i didn’t burn the popcorn this time you BETTER be alive to see it

[endydancer1]

We used to be strangers | Part 6

Pairing: Tom Holland x Y/N Lincoln

Summary: Tom has just finished his latest movie and his heading back home to London. While he is passing the high building, suddenly something happens what changes his life completely. What is the shadow up there?

WARNING: Mentions of injuries, blood, depression, thinking of suicide.

..................................................................................

"Tom, get the fuck out of the bathroom! You are having a shower for almost an hour! There are 3 other boys living in this house if you haven't noticed yet!" Haz was forcefully knocking on the bathroom door. He had been standing there for good 20 minutes. Tom had went to the shower at 10 am and it was almost 11! Finally the lock clicked and the door opened showing naked Tom  wearing only a towel around his waist.

TOM'S POV:

"Holy Odin, thank you. What did take you so long?! Don't tell me you were actually showering 60 minutes!" Haz looked at me a bit annoyed.

"I was. I am sorry. I needed to shave and clean myself properly." I glanced innocently at him.

"Oh so you had to shave. Why?  Are you going on a date? You normally don't spend that much time in a shower even if you are shaving. So what's up?"

"No, I don't have a date. I just.. Want to look nice, you know? I am coming to hospital to see Y/N."

"Oh, I see now. So you are finally falling for someone new. And while she is in hospital she can't run away from you when you would want to play with her, right?" Haz teased.

I just rolled my eyes and pushed him out of my way.

"Yeah, that's my dark plan. But it's a secret, don't tell anyone or I will be forced to play with you too." I smirked and walked into my room.

"You need someone to play with you already cuz you are unbearable." I heard Haz laughing before I closed the door behind me.

"Well, what should I wear?" I was standing on one place for good 3 minutes directly looking into my closet. - What am I doing? I have never been thinking that much about what should I wear on the regular day. I don't even shower that long. Was it really an hour?- I looked at my phone. - It was! Oh God. I wasn't that nervous and didn't care that much about my look even when I went on a first date with Anna. And another thing is I don't even have a date today! It's just.. Casual visit of someone I saved, right?- I just sighed and took step closer to my closet.

"Hmm, what about this? Jeans with denin jacket. It's a bit casual, but hey, I won't spoil anything with that." I dried my hair, dressed myself and walked out of my room. There was no one except me and Haz in the house.

"Harrison? Are you ready? Can we go?" I shouted waiting in front of his room.

"I am waiting for you in the living room you div!"

"Sorry! I thought you were still in your room!" I came down to living room.

"Well not everyone is as slow as you." He stood up and took his car keys. "Let's go!"

After lunch we went to the shopping centre, because I needed to buy something for Y/N.

"Uhm, Haz? What should I buy for Y/N? I promised her to watch movies with her, but I don't know which she would want to watch."

"Well, you probably should have asked her."

"You are not helping mate!"

"I am sorry, I am sorry, I am just messing with you,haha. Well, from what you have already said about her, she doesn't know you are an actor. So probably you can show her one of your movies."

"I don't think it would be a good idea. I don't want to look like a selfish prick. And.. What if she is that kind of girl who would want me only because of my money and fame?" I glanced at my feets and played with my fingers nervously.

"Tom, I understand, but you said she sent you a heart emoji and it's a good sign!" Haz poked my arm gently and a laugh a bit.

"Yeah, but she probably saw my Instagram profile and she probably knows I am famous by now."

"Well..it's also possible, but maybe she doesn't know yet. You know what then? Take one or two Marvel movies. Iron Man or Thor, or Avengers, to see if she like these kind of movies, take some romantic comedies, you know, because girls like them, right? Take your favourite movie and maybe.. Oh yeah, try any of your movies where you were young. If she notices it, you know? The Impossible or In the heart of the sea? "

" That can actually works. Thank you Haz, what would I do without you." I smiled at him. "And we should borrow it from movie rental, because I doubt they have Netflix in the hospital." I chuckled. We borrowed 5 movies.

"Mate look at this hoodie! I need it! Haz, I need it!"

"Oh God Tom, you have tons of Spiderman hoodies! You really don't need another one..."

"But look at it!"

"It's just saying Mr. Stark I don't feel so good! Tom, this meme is over."

"Well not for me. I am gettin' it and you can't do anything about it!"

"God, fine! Buy it, but hurry up if you want me to take you to hospital." Haz rolled his eyes and waited for me outside the shop.

"I've got it! Yay!" I rushed out of the shop full of joy from my new purchase.

"You are such a kid Tom, you know? How old are? 5?" He laughed at me. "Let's go. You should buy some snacks."

"Why? I am the snack, she can eat me" I joked.

"Or you can eat her, huh?"

"Harrison! But yeah.. Maybe I will!"

"One day.." Haz sticked his tongue out.

We teased each other the whole ride to the hospital. Harrison told me to call him when I wanted him to pick me up. We said our goodbye and I went into the building.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Brown. How are you? I know I am here a bit early, but I here to visit Y/N." I smiled at young lady at the reception. Her face had already dropped while I spoke. Sad smile appeared on her face.

"I am sorry, Mr. Holland. You should go home and rather forget about her."

"W-what? Why? What happened? Is she okay?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but she probably won't survive much longer."

"What? You have to be joking? I was talking to her yesterday. She was fine. What happened? If it has something to with that Melendez guy I am sorry. But ple, don't joke about her dying, I.."

"I am not joking, Mr. Holland. I would have never joked about such a thing. She is my best friend. And she is dying. So please,don't make it even harder for me."

"C-can I.. Can I at least see her? One last time?"

"I am sorry, you can't. She is on fluid resuscitation right now."

I could feel my eyes started watering. I felt familiar anxiety and my heart almost stopped working. My palms started sweating, I felt dizzy. I had to sit down for a moment.

"Do you need water, Mr. Holland?"

I wasn't able to speak. My voice was caught deep in my throat. My eyes were blankly staring at the wall in front of me. I didn't even notice when she left to grab me some water.

"Here, drink it." She handed me cup of water and crunched in front of me. "Listen, I know how you feel. Y/N is amazing person, you don't know her for a long time, but I am sure you could see that. She doesn't deserve to die like this and this soon, but it's what it is. We have to deal with it. She wouldn't want you to cry over her death. She would want you to continue your life with joy. Let's honour every moment we could spend with her and if the worst comes, we should let her die in peace. " She gently rubbed the back of my hand. I looked at her with puffy red eyes.

" I don't want her to die. " I said with raspy voice.

" I know. Me neither, but she was diagnosed with severe damages to her body, her condition is really miserable and there is only a small chance of her to survive this even with the best doctors and facilities."

I growled and put my head into my hands. I didn't even try to keep my sobbs quiet. Mrs. Brown hugged me tightly.

" Psst. It will be okay. I feel the same. You are not alone. But you should go home now. Spend some time with your family and friends. It's okay to cry, but don't let it affect you in other ways. Do you have someone to pick you up?"

"What's her diagnose? What happened? Can you at least tell me so I know when she.. When she dies what causes it?"

"She suffers a septic shock. It's severe condition when 50% of patients dies, because of multiple organs failure."

"But.. She was okay yesterday. How could it happened?"

"Septic shock is caused by sepsis which does not respond the treatment.  Your blood pressure drops to a dangerously low level after sepsis."

"Oh my God." I gulped and felt dizzy again. My skin was pale.

"Mr. Holland, look at me. Do you have someone to take you home? Can you give me your phone so I can call you someone?"

I can't remember properly how I managed to unlock my phone and handed it to her. Her voice was muffled and my head hurt. I didn't know how much time passed, but suddenly Harrison appeared in front of me.

" Hey, mate. I am here, I am here. Can you stand up? I am taking you home." He helped me to stand up and led me in the car. He managed to sat me on the front seat.

"Wait for me I need to speak to the nurse. Can you do that?"

I nodded absently. He walked back to the nurse I was talking to, Mrs. Brown. She explained what happened and what he should do with me. After a minute or two, Haz took me home. I cant tell you how long the ride was, because only thing I could think about was Y/N. She was dying. Dying and I couldn't help her. I only spoke to her for a few hours, but I had already felt the bond between us. I couldn't lose her. I didn't want to be sad, broken. Not again. Not after Anna. I prayed in my head. I prayed so hard. - Please God, I have already lost the love of my life. Please, I don't want to see another person die. I have just started to have feelings for another woman, after years of being alone and crying over my sweet angel, I found another one, or at least I think I found. And you want to take her from me too? -

"Tom, Tom, please look at me. Don't cry mate, I know it's hard. I am here. Please look at me." Haz was looking at me, obviously worried. Somehow he managed to lay me down on my bed.

"Tom, do you need something? A water or something to eat?" he sat next to me on bed. I stayed quiet, not really listening what he was saying. He just sighed.

"I will give you some space. You should sleep a bit. I will be downstairs if you need something." He stood up and walked to the door.

"Stay.. Please.. I need you."

A/N: Let me know what you think about this story so far. Sorry for my English, it's not my first language and I am new with this. So I would be happy and thankful about the feedback. Have a nice day! 😊

[delicatelyherdreams]

Pragma(tic) 1: Her Morning Takes a Turn

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 6217

Warnings: Language

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous Prologue: The Gods Live

The sun was golden against your skin, filling it with warmth and color you rarely ever got. Birds chirped, filling the air with song, and people chatted warmly all around you. You could hear laughter, squealing, sounds of joy and happiness. It was so different from what you were used to.

You exhaled sharply as you opened your eyes, turning your head on a swivel to observe your surroundings.

The open-aired cafe was nestled in a quaint corner of Olympus. Minor gods occupied the tables around you, some accompanied by nymphs or other sprites, others by children, and others still alone. No matter their social situation, everyone looked happy and content. Small children ran between the tables, playing tag and laughing, while their mothers talked and chatted over brunch. You recognized some of the gods and goddesses around.

Peter, a dryad, was at a table with some of his friends. They were all crowded around a phone and laughing to themselves. They seemed to be watching a funny video. If you had to guess, it was probably a silly trend or meme from the Mortal World.

Hope, the goddess of victory, was chatting with her friend Scott, the god of the home and hearth. Both of them had a sandwich and a cup of coffee straight from the Mortal World in front of them, though the food was almost completely forgotten as they talked to each other, deeply engrossed in their conversation.

Small children, nymphs and naiads, ran between the tables in games of tag, squealing as one was dubbed “it” and began to chase the others. They laughed with childish ecstasy, displaying the joy they had in abundance.

The whole area was just alive and warm. It was so foreign to you, but you had to admit that you didn’t mind it. 

The sound of bickering voices drew you from your observations, and you turned your head to the two women before you.

The blonde, your beloved youngest sister, goddess of the sky and queen of the gods, Carol, was sitting up straight, her shoulders rolled back proudly. She had a smug smile on her face; she was obviously winning the argument—something about a dress she said she was going to wear to the Winter Solstice Gala that was coming up in a few months.

The redhead, your younger sister and goddess of the sea, Natasha, was a little more agitated, though it was a sort of playful frustration. She was hunched over with her eyes narrowed at her sister as she insisted, “Carol, that’s my dress.” 

Carol shook her head, her smile only widening. “No, it’s mine. I bought it from a noble lady in London. I remember it as clear as if it was a century ago.”

Nat arched an eyebrow, her lips curling down in a sour frown. “Are you sure you remember it correctly? I could’ve sworn that I bought that dress a couple centuries ago. No, I know I bought it from Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine in 1160.”

You scrunched up your nose. Twelfth-century English fashion? Definitely not your cup of tea. But you remembered the dress vividly. It was a green thing that really complimented Nat’s eyes and hair but with a style that did not meet your preferences.

Your sisters continued to argue about whose dress it was.

You, meanwhile, watched them with amused eyes, shaking your head as they bickered. Your sisters were always ones to fight constantly, though it was always in good nature. They argued about the silliest things that happened millennia ago—who a goat sacrifice was meant for, who got the sea and who got the sky, who got to be the patron goddess of this city-state or that one—and now, they argued about whose clothes were whose. It was comforting to see that some things never changed over the centuries. Every brunch consistently ended with them bickering over the smallest things. Their sandwiches and mugs of their favorite coffees were long forgotten as they got into it. You’d learned to live with it and just let them duke it out; so long as they didn’t actually kill anyone that is.

But listening to them bicker eventually grew boring and tedious and you’d had enough. You groaned and leaned back in your chair, shrugging off your black blazer which had grown sweltering hot in the sun as you went. Now just in a dark grey tank top, your pleated black pants, and a pair of black flats, you felt much cooler and were ready to end the arguing and your misery. “Come on, both of you,” you called, cutting them off. 

They paused their argument and turned towards you, their gazes questioning and demanding as to why you had interrupted them.

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. “Are you kidding me right now? Guys, this is like the only time I can see you for the next month and you want to fight about something stupid and childish?” You grinned at them, your eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. “I wonder why I let you two pretend to be older when you’re so damn immature.”

Carol gasped with mock offense. “You’re only older than us by a decade or two.”

“A decade or two is all it takes, my dear youngest sister. Don’t let the power of your queenship go to your head; I’ll always have sibling superiority over you. And, as the eldest, I say no more bickering.”

“But—”

“It’s Nat’s dress. She did buy it from the queen. There, argument over and you can stop bickering now.”

Nat laughed with an elated “Ha!”

Carol huffed, the breath from her mouth ruffling the hair that framed her face, and gave you an exasperated smile. “Fine, it’s Nat’s. I’ll give it back. We’ll stop bickering. What do you want to talk about since you’re so opposed to hearing our arguing?”

You simply shrugged. Ninety percent of the time you were cool with any topic of conversation, even if it meant listening to their banter, but not today. 

It was one of the few times you dared to venture out of your realm. Being the Queen of the Underworld gave you little to no time to leave. There were always so many things to do and duties to attend to that you rarely made it out for brunch with your sisters on Olympus. Occasions like this were supposed to be a time for you three to catch up, gossip, and bond, not to bicker endlessly about pointless things.

“I’m honestly not sure,” you admitted.

Carol opened her mouth to respond, probably with a snarky remark about how you ought to know what you want to talk about before interrupting an already started conversation, but Natasha beat her to the punch.

“Hey, how’s Mom doing?” she asked, her eyes curious and her posture hunched in to listen. “You saw her last weekend, right? She doing well?”

You nodded, a fond smile pulling at your lips. Out of all your siblings, you were probably the closest to your mother, Rhea. She made a trip downstairs to see you almost every weekend for brunch and to catch up. You’d say she liked coming down so often because it was out of the way and far quieter and calmer than either the Mortal World or Olympus, but you knew it was because she loved your dog. “She’s doing fine.”

Carol leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table, suddenly very interested in this new topic of conversation. As the youngest of you three, she probably had the least amount of time with your mother. But, then again, she was the only one who didn’t get digested and got to see Mom the most in the early years. “Is she still working in that mortal hospital?” Carol asked.

You nodded. “Still in the labor ward. She’s the ‘best labor and delivery nurse they’ve ever had’ last I heard.”

“Well of course she is. She is the titaness of motherhood and ease, among other things,” Nat remarked. She shook her head. “I just wish she’d spend more time up here rather than with the mortals.”

“You know that some of the gods don’t like her,” you murmured. “She’s a titan. They don’t trust her. She’d rather be among the mortals who don’t know her for who she is and help them out.” You shrugged. “Anyways, Carol, how’re your queenly duties going?” You wanted to change the topic away from your mother. While you loved talking to her, it was always weird talking about her with your sisters. They didn’t know her like you did; they didn’t know her in the beginning.

Carol hummed. “Oh, you know, they’re going fine. I have to deal with people’s shit all day every day. You’d think that we gods, being as old as we are, would’ve already worked out our problems by now. I mean, Wanda and Pietro still bicker about who’s the better archer, Loki still plays rude pranks, I can barely keep the newer gods in line. I swear, once they find out they’re immortal, it’s a shit-show. They take on the most daring dares and wreak havoc on the Mortal World any chance they get. I know they don’t always mean to be a pain in my ass, but it happens. Oh! But did you hear? The Muses are planning a concert. They’ve got music from…”

And that was about the point when you tuned her out. You didn’t always care about what responsibilities came with ruling Olympus, but you did enjoy seeing her getting excited about the things in her life. She might’ve been a queen, but she was still your baby sister. 

As Carol continued to rant and rave about the concert, you failed to notice Natasha sliding her chair closer to you until she was right on top of you.

“So, (y/n).”

You jumped in your seat. She’d snuck up on you, quiet as the gentle sea she ruled over. You glanced sideways at her, your lips curling back in a sneer. You knew that look on her face and you didn’t like it one bit. “Nat… Don’t you even think about it.”

Natasha smirked, her outward expression cool and collected, but her green eyes roaring like waves on a stormy night with devious plans. “Oh? Think about what, my dearest sister?” Her voice was sickly sweet and practically dripping with honey. 

You narrowed your eyes, your heart dropping in your chest as it steeled itself against what was coming. “You look like you’re trying to play matchmaker and thinking about setting me up with someone again,” you spat. “Well my answer is what it’s been for the past two thousand years: no.”

Carol had stopped talking about the Muses and was now looking at you with pitiful and sad eyes. “(y/n)...”

“Don’t ‘(y/n)’ me, Care. I’ve told you time and time again, I’m fine. I don’t need to go out on a date, I don’t need a boyfriend or a girlfriend, I’m perfectly happy alone.” You didn’t need any of the trouble that came with a steady relationship. You’d had your fill of that over the years. Hands running down your body, lips kissing your mouth, flesh pressed against flesh… You shuddered.

“We know,” Nat said as she tried to placate you, “and we admire you for your strength. ‘You’re a strong independent woman who don’t need no man’ and all, but we think it might be good for you to go out and try to meet someone. That way you wouldn’t have to be so alone down in the Underworld.”

You frowned. “But I’m not alone down there. I have Cerber—” 

“Cerberus,” they finished in unison.

“We know,” Natasha continued. “But we think you’d benefit from some human contact once in a while. We know you still see Mom, and that Clint and Pierce visit you on their errands, but most of the time… You’re all alone down there and we just think you’d be happier if you had someone. I know I’d have already lost my mind underwater if I didn’t have Bruce to keep me company, and Carol wouldn’t be able to stay sane if Maria wasn’t with her.”

Carol nodded in silent agreement, her eyes pleading. “We just want what’s best for you.”

“What’s best for me?” You could feel small bits of agitation rising up in you as you stared them down. The world began to tint red in your sight.

Natasha bit at her lip as she stared you down. “(y/n),” she said, her voice taut and stiff with caution. “Your eyes.”

You turned towards her. 

Her body was rigid and alert, almost as if she was preparing to defend herself. She only took that stance when something made her nervous.

And that something was you.

You sighed and mumbled, “Sorry,” before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in through your nose. 

In, out. In, out. In, out.

When you opened your eyes again, the world had returned to its normal color and you were a little calmer. “Sorry,” you mumbled, your head dipping down in a nod. You heaved a sigh and pursed your lips. “Guys, look, I really appreciate you thinking about me and my happiness, but seriously, butt out of my love life. I don't need anybody; I’m perfectly capable of ruling the Underworld on my own.” You shifted in your seat and averted your eyes. “Besides, I don’t think anyone could really handle me right now.” Also, you had the feeling that no one could give you the long-lasting love you craved.

Both your sisters went quiet, their eyes downcast and solemn. 

You couldn’t help but feel bad for telling them off again. You knew that they just wanted what was best for you, but at the same time, you knew yourself better than anyone. You knew you didn’t need to be set up and that, when you were ready, you’d find someone yourself.

You cleared your throat and began to pull your blazer back on. “I should probably get going now,” you said, grabbing a black handbag that was sitting beside your chair and pulling the strap onto your shoulder. “Lots of things to attend to down under. It’s time for the weekly check on Tartarus.” You inhaled sharply and rolled your eyes, hoping to convey a feeling of exasperation to them. You had no intention of letting them know that you were over godly contact and ready to go home to peace and solitude.

Natasha chuckled. “I don’t know why you don’t send Pierce to do it. He’s capable.”

“Yeah, he’s capable, but you know how persuasive our father can be if he gets into somebody’s head. And, although Alexander is a great god of death, I don’t necessarily trust his mental strength against him. It’s just best if I do it. I know his tricks, I know his lies, I know how to resist him.” You gave your sisters a small smile. “Take care, you two. Tell Maria and Bruce I said ‘hi,’ and don’t go burning down the world before our next brunch. The Underworld is full enough; we don’t need any early arrivals.” You stood up and pushed in your chair.

Carol stood up and made quick strides across the table to your side. With one fluid motion, she reached for you, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into a hug. She held you tight. “We miss you up here, (y/n). Please, don’t be a stranger, and come back more often.”

You hugged her back tightly. “I’ll try. When things start calming down again, I’ll come back.”

“Just make sure it’s before another half-decade has passed!” Nat called from her spot off to the side.

You pulled away from Carol and shot your other sister a teasing glare. “Then tell the Fates to stop throwing me curve balls and fucking up my life!” You slid over to her and hugged her as well. “Don’t forget, you can always come down to see me instead. I know it’s dark and gloomy down there, but I’ve remodeled my house and I think it’s really nice.”

“So you’re out of your gothic phase?”

You could feel your cheeks heat up. “Gods, I thought we agreed to never speak about that again. I liked the architecture!”

“Mhmm, and the black clothes, and the heavy eyeliner,” Carol began to list, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Oh, shut up! The castle’s gone. No more gothic. Now it’s more modern. Have you ever seen those American houses where they’re an open concept, all sleek and box-like?”

Both your sisters nodded.

“It’s kinda like that.”

Natasha whistled. “Nice. Is it still black?”

“Of course.” You chuckled. “Could you imagine a bright yellow house in the middle of the Underworld?”

“It does sound ridiculous,” Carol admitted. 

“Exactly. The black is there to stay.” You smiled softly and took a small step away from your family. “I’ll see you both later.”

Carol’s lips twitched up in a sad smile as she brought a hand up to wave at you. “See you soon.”

Natasha simply nodded at you, a tiny smile of her own on her face.

And then you turned your back and walked away from them. You made your way to the cafe’s gate and pushed it open, making your exit.

It was a short walk back to the main road of Olympus. It was easy to know when you’d arrived because street vendors crowded the sides and people filled the streets. Gods, goddesses, nymphs, naiads, satyrs, and all other sorts of creatures bustled around, darting in and out from stall to stall. Families with children stopped to chit chat with each other, couples held hands as they browsed, and singular people shopped with a purpose. Everyone had a smile on their face, everyone was happy. For a normal person, the path would be almost impossible to navigate. 

But not for you.

The second you got within five feet of a nymph or naiad, they stiffened and the hairs on the back of their neck stood up. They sensed the death that surrounded you and instinctively inched away. Their heads were put on a swivel as they searched for the source of their discomfort and, when they saw you, they prickled further and took a step out of your way, clearing your path.

It used to bother you how they’d avoid you like the plague but now you’d come to accept it. You reeked like death; they sensed it; they didn’t like it. You learned almost two thousand years ago to not take it personally. They didn’t hate you, they just hated what you were and what you stood for. Besides, you never had to be stuck in foot traffic. 

You sauntered down the opening in the road, going as quick as you could so as not to disturb them any longer, but not in a rush. Though you knew you weren’t welcome by most of Olympus’ citizens, you quite enjoyed the feeling of the sun on your skin whenever you came. The feeling was alien to you, but it was pleasant enough to make you want to bask in it for as long as possible. 

You made your way up the road, slowly climbing closer and closer to the golden palace of the gods where your youngest sister lived. It was in her front yard where you could safely make your way home without pissing anybody off.

After all, the quickest way back to the Underworld was to have the ground swallow you up. The journey didn’t leave any gaping hole behind you—the ground always closed up after you sank in—but it did leave an Asphodel flower in your stead. 

Carol didn’t mind having the flowers dot the lawn of her palace. Most Olympians hated the sight of them and saw them only as a bad omen, but Carol knew there was nothing really wrong with the flower. The reason they got such a bad reputation was that they were linked to you. 

Asphodel flowers only grew in the Asphodel Meadows in the Underworld. Mortals believed they had a positive role in the Greek afterlife, but not the Olympians. To them, the immortals, anything related to the Underworld was taboo, almost like it was death itself. Things touched by death and the Underworld were considered dangerous and to be avoided at all costs. You learned a long time ago that if you let the ground swallow you up and plant a flower in your place, the area where you left would be avoided for decades even after the flower had died. It caused a lot of inconveniences for the Olympian people, so you just decided to avoid public places and go to your sister’s yard instead. It was cleaner and less of a nuisance for others that way.

You strolled into the palace’s yard, treading down towards the furthermost corner of the area. There, a small garden of Asphodel flowers lays perfectly still and undisturbed. They’d grown to be as tall as your waist and they shuffled as you moved about them. You tried to keep the garden as small as possible so as to not “contaminate” a large area. You stopped in the center of the garden and dug into your pocket. Your skin hit tiny seeds—Asphodel seeds—and you plucked one out before dropping it onto the grass. 

The seed sank into the dirt, disappearing almost immediately, and the ground rumbled beneath you as it began to tear itself apart. It caved in, carving out a tunnel for you to sink into.

You simply crossed your arms, closed your eyes, and rolled your neck to stretch. You’d made this journey so many times that the fall hardly phased you anymore. You remembered doing it the first couple of times and panicking as you fell. Now, it was as easy as taking a step. 

You dropped through layers upon layers of rock, finally breaking out into a chasm. Your feet hit the ground and you bent your knees to absorb the impact, straightening up when you were steady. You rose to your full height and stood tall, gazing down a mountain at the whole of the Underworld.

You’d been deposited right on the front stoop of your mansion. Perched on the top of a small mountain, you could see everything from the front door.

At the far reaches of your kingdom, you could see the place where the Cocytus, the River of Wailing fed into the Acheron, the River of Woe, which stood as the border between the Mortal World and the Underworld. The far bank of the Acheron was crowded with souls waiting for passage over the water and the near bank was organized with lines leading up to and disappearing into the judgment pavilion. From the pavilion, three lines branched out and led to the three sections of the Underworld: the Asphodel Meadows, Elysium, and Tartarus.

The Asphodel Meadows spanned the majority of the large chasm that was your domain. The flowers swayed without a breeze, instead moved by spirits who wandered aimlessly. It was a place for those who had led ordinary lives, not good enough to achieve Elysium, but not evil enough to deserve Tartarus. The Meadows were as calm as calm could be, perfect for walking your dog or lazing around on a rare free day. Billions of spirits resided there, all of them calm, gentle, and ordinary.

Elysium, with its warm atmosphere, beautiful gardens, and elaborate homes sat just off to the side of the Meadows, its entrance near the base of your mountain. Sanctioned off by towering gates and walls, it lay separate from the rest of the Underworld. It was the place where the best of the best lived after death, filled with kind, generous, and beautiful souls. The souls that had been reborn and achieved Elysium three times lived on the Isles of the Blessed which were three little islands that sat in the middle of a lake in the heart of Elysium. You loved walking down the streets in Elysium. Everyone was so friendly and not a soul shied away from you. They had no reason to fear death; after all, they were already dead. Some of the spirits that had been there long enough were friendly enough to invite you for dinner on the occasional evening when they’d catch you patrolling the streets or walking Cerberus. Those were the nights you enjoyed the most. Mrs. Thomas made a fantastic roast chicken. It was truly a good place to be.

And then there was Tartarus; the “pit”. You shuddered just thinking about that place. It was where the evil souls went when they died, a place of torture, punishment, misery, and pain. It was mainly managed by three of your lieutenants known as “the Furies.” When they weren’t pursuing the wicked in the Mortal World, they were overseeing the torture of the worst of the worst deep in the pit. It lay just beyond the main body of your realm, accessible only through a cave that carved a hole in the outermost wall of the chasm that was the Underworld. The Phlegethon, the River of Fire, with its angry red flames that leaped out at anybody who dared get close to it, flowed into the tunnel taking up half of its opening. The river flowed deep until the point when the tunnel opened up to a cave. Dark, sharp stalactites hung from the cave’s ceiling, ready to fall at any second and impale those beneath them. There was a hole in the middle of the ground that seemed endless, but really, it fed into the real Tartarus. The river flowed into the pit, turning into a waterfall as it roared down. It was a long way down, said to be “as far beneath Hades as heaven is above earth” if you read that epic The Iliad from some Greek guy named Homer. It was about a nine days’ fall to reach the bottom of the pit where the souls were tortured and the worst beings were imprisoned.

You’d only been down there once, millennia ago, when you locked up the bastard you called “Father” and his brothers Crius, Iapetus, Coeus, and Hyperion, and you never wanted to go down again. It was nothing but red and angry. The Phlegethon was even more violent down there than it was in the main Underworld as it tore through the terrain. Tartarus itself was like a whole new world. It was seemingly endless, but it only had the one exit. One could get lost and be trapped there for eternity if they weren’t careful.

It was at the far reaches of the pit, farther than any soul or spirit dared to venture, that you imprisoned your father and uncles, binding them with the strongest chains you could make and sealing them with every spell, curse, and enchantment that you could think of. Layer upon layer of protection was placed upon them, making it nearly impossible for them to escape. You separated the five of them and placed them as far apart from each other as you could so that they could not feed on each other’s strength and escape. Your uncles, as formidable of foes as they were, were no threat to you anymore. They’d gone dormant after the first thousand years or so, reserved to their fates; but not your father.

Kronos continued to fight against his restraints, trying every day to escape, spending as much strength as he could muster to fight your barriers against him. Over the centuries he had succeeded in breaking some of them, specifically the old ones you had placed when you’d first imprisoned him. He was always chipping away at them, trying to weaken them enough to break free to exact his revenge on you and your sisters.

But you’d never let that happen. That was one of the reasons you made your weekly ventures to the edge of the pit. From up above, you could cast more spells to strengthen and set more layers on his bindings. Every week you added more and more to his cage, replacing those he broke, rejuvenating those he damaged, and adding new ones as an extra precaution.

Your sisters were fair to wonder why you didn’t let your inferiors or lieutenants take care of this task for you, but you had your reasons.

For the first couple of years that you guarded his prison, you did let some underlings take care of it. Peggy, your second in command, best friend, and the goddess of magic, volunteered to take care of it while you worked to get the Underworld under control and install order. She did a good job of keeping the spells strong and watertight, but she wasn’t infallible.

Your father, the extremely powerful titan that he is, found ways to let his conscience escape and make its way up to the surface. He would get into her head and anyone else who got close and twist their thoughts around, slowly turning them to his side and against the gods.

It took you a decade to notice that Peggy was under his control. You’d had your suspicions that she wasn’t herself, but it was when she tried to pull a knife on you and slit your throat that your suspicions were confirmed. It broke your heart to have Cerberus restrain her while you reached into her head and yanked Kronos out. Her screams still haunt you to this day. 

But from that day on, while Peggy was recovering, it was you that took care of the cage. That was how it should’ve been in the beginning, but you’d let her take on that responsibility for you. Never again would you subject another being to that. You did not know what it was like to have him in your head, but you had an idea of what it was like in his, and you couldn’t bear inflicting that kind of pain again. So, in addition to making frequent check-ups on the men and women who worked for you to make sure there wasn’t any trace of his influence, you took it upon yourself to personally deal with strengthening his prison every week.

Which was what you had to do right now.

With a heavy sigh, you turned back to look at your mansion and whistled.

At once, a crash, bang, thud, and whimper broke the silence and you could see a large black mass barreling at you from inside the house. The hulking figure shot through a wide doggy door just to the side of your front door and charged at you. 

Your entire face lit up with a laugh as Cerberus attacked you, jumping up to place his paws on your chest so he could have easy access to lick your face. Thankfully he was in his small form so there was only one head trying to lovingly maul you. If he had been full-sized, you’d have an issue. 

At his full height, Cerberus was as tall as your mountain in the Underworld, with three large heads that could see almost everything. When he wasn’t around you in his small size, he’d stand at the gates of the Underworld, guarding the borders and making sure that the rogue spirits didn’t escape. He seemed ferocious and scary because he closely resembled a large black wolf with deep red eyes, but he was really a gentle giant and your metaphorical baby.

You lifted your head up to avoid his eager tongue, instead allowing him to attack your neck as your laughter rang out in the still air. “Cerberus! Down, boy! Down! Yes, it’s good to see you too.” Once you’d gotten him calmed down, you crouched so you were at his eye level and scratched him behind the ears. “Who’s a good boy?”

He barked as if to say, “Me! Me! I am!”

You simply grinned at him and leaned forward to press your forehead to his, a common gesture of affection for you with him. “I’ve gotta go make sure Father hasn’t done anything stupid in a week, you wanna come with me?”

As if it was even a question. Cerberus always accompanied you on your trips, acting as a good guard dog to protect you from some of the spirits that dwelled on the pit’s edges—not that you really needed it, you just loved his company.

“Let’s go.” You straightened up and started to walk down the mountain path.

Cerberus kept perfect pace with you. He knew the way almost as well as you did.

Down the mountain and through the Asphodel Meadows. Cross the Meadows to the Phlegethon and follow the river to the mouth of the cave. Then it was a straight shot into the pit where you could cast your spells. Simple, easy, quick.

You knew the way by heart, not even bothering to look up as you went. Asphodel flowers crunched under your flats as you crossed the Meadows and spirits parted for you to get through; not that they needed to, they were just being polite.

You and Cerberus strolled through the Meadows, coming up to the Phlegethon and following it towards Tartarus.

You had to force your feet to walk as you got closer, a sense of unparalleled dread washing over you. Shivers crept down your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Tartarus was always a daunting place, but today it almost seemed… more so. And as soon as you took one step into the entrance, you knew that something was seriously wrong.

You stopped short, your feet planted into the ground. Your stomach dropped and every warning alarm you had was going off in your head. 

Cerberus had frozen, his ears flattened against his head and his lips pulled back in a snarl. His whole body was positioned to pounce at the drop of a hat.

You rolled your shoulders back and narrowed your eyes. The world began to tint red at the edges, the color slowly creeping in to cover your entire vision. With this new sight, you could see deeper into the tunnel where you saw figures writhing closer and closer to the pit. Something was in the cave, something that didn’t belong.

You grit your teeth and nodded your head towards Cerberus. “Go get Aunt Peggy,” you commanded in a low voice.

He didn’t need to be told twice and took off running as soon as the words left your lips.

You didn’t take your eyes off the mouth of the cave as you extended your hand, calling forth into being your weapon: a sleek black bident that was as tall as you were. Forged for you by the cyclopes millennia ago when you first fought your father, your vibranium bident was a formidable weapon. It was a lot like your sister’s trident, but with two prongs instead of three that branched out from the spear at the height of your chin. Your bident was your primary weapon used for fighting. It allowed you to manipulate spirits and channel magic, morph terrain, and wield the energy of the Underworld, among other things. Plus it was good for stabbing. 

You tightened your grip around the bident’s shaft and lifted it off the ground, moving slowly into the cave. Your feet never made a sound as you stepped closer and closer to the writhing mass. As you neared the souls, your fingers began to turn white with how tight you were holding your weapon, raising it to strike at any second. You were prepared to fight off a small militia of evil souls trying to escape, but what you found when you reached them was not a coup preparing to strike. 

No, the souls were, instead, swarming around a figure.

You muscled your way in through the crowd, using your bident to shove the spirits out of the way and dissipate them. You got to the center of their swarm and looked down. But instead of seeing an animal corpse or something of the likes, you saw something far more serious: a man.

The man seemed to be about your physical age, but you could tell almost right away from the aura he radiated that, like you, he was probably much older than he looked. His short dark hair was tousled and matted, no doubt from the spirits grabbing at it, and his clothes—what once seemed to be a pristine white shirt and jeans—were torn with claw marks and black with dirt. His shocking blue eyes stared up at the ceiling of the chasm, full of despair and hopelessness. He’d obviously started to lose hope that he’d ever escape the clutches of evil that held him tight.

You didn’t have much time to register who he was or what he was doing in Tartarus. You were just in shock that this man, this very alive man, had made it into your domain without you knowing. Your grip slackened and you stared down at him, surprise rising up in you with rage boiling up behind it as the only words you could manage to speak were, “Oh fuck.”

Next 2: He Becomes a Trespasser

[profoundnet]

Header by @cryptomoon and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR JUNE 2020!

Featuring works by @blueraven06, @castielslostwings, @delo0821, galium, @goldenraeofsun, @imbiowaresbitch, @jemariel, @masterofevilmonkeyness, @multifandom-fanatic, ravens_tell_stories, @saywhatjessie, @shadowkat-83, shikaro, @spnsmile, tiamatv, @thefandomsinhalor, @vulfmert, and @wookieefucker under the cut.

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Tags: Established relationships, domestic, fluff

Saved by a Stranger (E, 43k)

Rule One: Never change the deal. Rule Two: No names. Rule Three: Never look in the package. Ex-Special Forces operator, Alpha Castiel Novak adheres three strict sets of rules, which he never breaks as a mercenary "transporter" who moves goods—human or otherwise— from one place to another. No questions asked. Until his new delivery contains a deal-breaker pretty face hot-headed Omega—who turns out to be his true mate— Castiel knows rules have to be changed especially with a dangerous group intent to get their hands on his Omega. Castiel wants to see them try. Destiel x The Transporter AU

Tags: Non-con,  Graphic Depiction of violence

The Room Service (E, 39k)

‘Hands off, Pants on!’

Dean Winchester has groomed himself to be a professional room service staff providing hotel guests with all the necessities they need while catering to all mundane whims and complaints except one: keep hands off the staff. Until a mysterious blue-eyed guy enters the 7th heaven floor and shakes Dean’s steamy dreams. And after saving Dean from one dangerous stalker, it seems like the restriction is practically flying off the window for his grumpy blue-eyed hero.

Hotel x Destiel AU

Tags: Romance,  Fluff,  First meeting,  Jealousy,

Baby Plushie (G, 1.1k)

A Baby. Who says Dean doesn't need it?

Tags: Romance,  Fluff. Inspired by art by @gabester-sketch.

Shadowkat83 - @shadowkat-83 - Shadowkat83

Better Than I Know Myself (T, 1.1k)

He had to make a choice; he didn't want to. The choice was between the two people he cared about the most: Cas and Sam. They both knew him so well but on different levels. How could he possibly go through with this?

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Songfic, Fluff, Love, Confessions, Mutual Pining, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Shikaro - shikaro

Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome (E, 1.5k)

the one where Dean comes untouched for the first time

or the one where they meet at a bar

Tags: PWP

blueraven06 - @blueraven06 - blueraven06

College days (G, 1.2k)

It's Castiel's first day of college and he is already late.

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University

goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun

Magic Quarantine Ride (M, 1k)

“Cas,” Dean growls as he stalks past the hospital's general information desk. “What the hell are you doing here, you psycho? Go home - where it’s safe!” Cas whirls around. “You forgot this,” he says hurriedly as he rushes forward with the necklace he made for Dean. “I told you, it will provide protection.” He waves it in the air like a crazy person trying to ward off demons. “You are insane,” Dean says flatly.

Tags: They were quarantined, witch!cas, college nurse!dean, fluff and angst, mentions of COVID-19, mutual pining, emotional hurt/comfort, discussions of PTSD

thefandomsinhalor - @thefandomsinhalor - thefandomsinhalor

A Driver Worth His Salt (E, 68k)

Twenty-year-old Dean Winchester hates fixing up stolen cars on the side for Gordon Walker. But with his grandfather’s dry-cleaning business slowly dying, medical bills piling up, and his younger brother Sam abandoning the prospect of attending college because of their grim situation, Dean convinces himself that it isn’t as reckless as it seems.

When everything goes belly up, leaving him in a troubling position with the wrong people, a representative of the Garrisons, the city’s most powerful and notorious family, offers Dean to help him with his situation in exchange for his employment.

The job is simple: drive the passenger a few times a week to yet-undisclosed locations and return with said passenger without fail. Don’t ask questions. Be on time. Be discreet.

And never interact with each other outside of work.

Shady, but simple.

So, he accepts.

But once he meets the passenger in question—the sharply dressed and rough-looking Castiel Novak—Dean finds that abiding those rules may be more complicated than he had anticipated.

Tags: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Settings, Crimes & Crimes & Criminals, BAMF Castiel, Slow Burn, Hurt Sam Winchester, Trauma

wookieefucker - @wookieefucker - wookieefucker

The Eye of the Storm (T, 8.5k)

“Only fifteen miles to the highway,” Dean said cheerfully, reading from a sign on the side of the path. Bobby groaned loudly. “Shoulda known I’d get my body back only to put it through its paces right away.” Amara left with Chuck, promising that she was going to give Dean what he needed. Maybe what he needed was different than her first impulse.

Tags: eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, season 12 AU, canon AU, canon-typical violence

tiamatv - tiamatv

Spicier Ginger (G, 4k)

Kevin held out a flat piece of dough and spooned in a teaspoon of pork mixture. “You can’t put too much in them or leave any air bubbles inside," he explained, folding up the dumpling. "‘Cause they’ll explode.” “So kind of like packing shotgun shells,” Dean joked. “Uh, yeah. Sure, Dean,” Kevin agreed, very dubiously. “Sure.”

Tags: Cooking, Domesticity, Kevin Tran Lives!, Winchester Family Fluff

To Sleep, Perchance (T, 3.4k)

Dean wasn’t used to good dreams. But he was used to taking what he could get—so when he dreamed of a lean, compact body pressed against his back, an arm heavy over his waist, he settled into it, hazy and comfortable.

Tags: Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon Compliant, Dreams vs Reality, Mark of Cain

Ephelis (E, 1.8k)

“I think someone has sent me a picture of their genitals.” Castiel looked down at his phone. “Erect.”

Tags: AU-Canon Divergence, Dick Pics, Plot What Plot, Fluff and Crack, Season/Series 09

Phaleonopsis (E, 4.8k)

“Here, let me.” Cas’s long fingers plucked away a dead leaf from a calathea, and Dean watched helplessly as Cas rubbed the bare spot where the leaf had come away with a fingertip. “See? Isn’t it nice to let someone touch you now and again?” “Goddammit, Cas ain’t the creep, I’m the creep,” Dean muttered, and put his head down on the desk.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gardening, Roommates, Fluff And Smut, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean

(Atypical) Love Story (E, 13.k)

“Are you… scenting me?” the man in an oversized beige trench coat asked, suspiciously, in a deep gravel voice that ran down Dean’s spine. "Why? I really don't smell like much." Dean’s mouth sagged open. “Dude,” he answered, honestly, “You smell amazing.” He’d never seen anyone look so shocked at a compliment before. “O-oh.”

Tags: Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics; Scenting; Top/Bottom Versatile Dean/Castiel; Alpha Dean/Omega Castiel; Enthusiastic Consent

Pigment (G, 1.6k)

Dean wasn’t ashamed of what he was doing or anything. He didn’t think he had any reason to be, hell. So what if he liked to spend a little of his downtime just putting little blobs of paint inside neat little lines?

Tags: Canon Compliant, Hobbies, Painting, Fluff

[wellthatwasaletdown]

“It’s a fake article apparently.” The quotes from the parody account are fake, but there is real article about Harry Lambert in The Times.

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/meet-harry-lambert-the-a-lists-secret-style-weapon-8ml3q06jl

Meet Harry Lambert, The A List’s Secret Style Weapon

Whether it’s Harry Styles’s internet‑breaking cardigan or Emma Corrin in head‑to‑toe Miu Miu, he’s the stylist responsible for the hottest celeb looks of the moment. So how did a former River Island shopboy become the man influencing the way we dress today?

In February 2020 Harry Lambert was helping Harry Styles get ready to perform on NBC’s Today show. Lambert, an affable, bright-eyed 34-year-old, had been Styles’s stylist for a good five years by then, helping the One Directioner develop a distinct visual brand — and yet Styles still wasn’t quite sure why Lambert was so insistent that he wear a bright, multicoloured patchwork cardigan by JW Anderson.“I remember him saying, ‘OK, I love it, I just don’t know why we’re wearing it for rehearsals,’” Lambert relays from his east London studio. But the stylist had “a weird feeling”, he says with a little smile. “I was like, ‘Wear it for rehearsal — I promise you.’”The choice of the garment, and the knowledge of when and where to wear it, sums up Lambert’s gifts neatly. Pictures of Styles promptly went viral, so much so that the cardigan became a TikTok craze, with fans trying to replicate the knit at home. By the end of the year the V&A had announced it was buying the original, since it said so much about fashion in 2020. “It makes me a bit giddy, I guess,” says Lambert, to think that this moment he concocted will sit in a national collection for ever.

Right now Lambert can lay claim to being one of the most influential stylists in the world. The Styles collaboration is of course his calling card: a parade of eye-raising and/or mouthwatering outfits that have progressed from a much-memed floral suit at the American Music awards in 2015 to a couple of feather boas at this year’s Grammys and a Gucci women’s handbag at the Brit awards last month. His few other celebrity clients (it’s an elite bunch) include Emma Corrin, who, in the absence of any awards ceremony red carpets to be seen on following her star turn as Princess Diana in The Crown last November, took to Instagram to showcase a series of exciting, adventurous looks; and also her Crown co-star Josh O’Connor. It’s no surprise that, along the way, Lambert has become a name in his own right: his Instagram account boasts more than half a million followers. And to think — the Topman in his hometown of Norwich turned him down for a job as a teenager because “I wasn’t cool enough”, he giggles. He got one instead at River Island, where he was occasionally allowed to style the mannequins in cardigans of a somewhat less avant-garde calibre.Lambert, dressed in shorts, T-shirt and a plaid shirt, is sitting in his whitewashed studio surrounded by clothes racks for each client and mementoes from friends. He was an up-and-coming stylist, with lots of edgy editorial work and a long stint working for Topman’s head office on his CV (the brand did eventually hire him), when industry insiders introduced him to Styles in 2014. The 1D megastar was setting out his solo stall (1D would officially split in 2015) and Lambert brought racks filled with pieces by JW Anderson, Saint Laurent and future long-term collaborator Gucci on the hangers. He got the job the next day.“Harry has always been interested in fashion essentially,” Lambert says. “You could kind of tell already from the way he was dressing and the decisions that he was making with brands. So there’s never been, like, a battle. Everything with Harry is super-collaborative and it’s always been, it sounds cheesy to say, heavenly, but … !”

The two are clearly mates — they call each other Susan and Sue (Lambert is Susan), and a poster from Styles, signed “To Lamby” (his other nickname), has pride of place on Lambert’s desk. From the way he tells it, neither has blinked when it comes to the sexy, campy, gender-twisting work that has made Styles stand out from his peers. Indeed, other boy band veterans — Robbie Williams or Justin Timberlake — never tried anything this visually brave. But Lambert is clear that this isn’t just him dressing a marionette: “I think it’s part of his, you know, part of his character — it’s part of him. I never want it to feel like he’s wearing a costume, I never want to feel like something is wearing him. We’re not doing it for lols — it should feel like part of the performance or part of the whole, you know?”Lambert admits to finding online critique culture overwhelming, but he points out, slightly apologetically, that most them, for him, have been good (no doubt partly thanks to the millions of Styles superfans). “I’m lucky that I have a lot of positive feedback. But when I see something that is negative, you remember that so much more than the positive things. I used to be like, ‘Social media doesn’t bother me,’ but it does kind of f*** with your head.” Still, he’s all for it: “What’s worse — being so boring that nobody talks about you?” As for Corrin, they actually met at a Styles gig and the two became friends before she asked him to work with her for the media blitz for The Crown. “There’s something about her energy that’s just so infectious,” he raves today. Many have loved her appearances in fashion-forward London brands such as Knwls (a stringy black sheer party number, showcased in a lift), or more eccentric insiders like new-era Schiaparelli and Miu Miu. For Lambert, who loves to champion up-and-coming British brands such as Maximilian, SS Daley or his good friend Harris Reed, it was a no-brainer. “There’s a tendency sometimes for young actresses or young talent to make them look older or more ‘mature’. People are trying to hurry them along.” Corrin may be a leading lady already, “but she’s young too, and cool”, he reasons. “We didn’t want it to feel stuffy.”

Being a stylist is a star turn in itself now. In the glory days of the Noughties Rachel Zoe styled the likes of Nicole Richie and Lindsay Lohan in a very Zoe way (big sunglasses, bigger bags, gladiator sandals and anything boho). She has been followed by the likes of Karla Welch, who has put clients such as Tracee Ellis Ross and Elisabeth Moss in considered yet still fashion-forward choices, and the other current hot favourite Law Roach, who earned the respect of the entire world for decking out Céline Dion in Vetements. Lambert’s contribution is to blur not only genders, a bit, but also the distinction between “editorial” (traditionally edgy, fashy) and “red carpet” (which is to say glossy, a bit staid).Lambert finds most red-carpet dressing fearsomely dull, to be clear: “I really cannot see another black tie! Just no. No, thank you.” The last “iconic” red-carpet moment was, he thinks, Rihanna’s omelette dress at the Met Ball, and that was 2015. In fact what has really got him buzzing is RiRi’s latest series of outfits papped as “she comes out of restaurants, goes up escalators … it looks so good”, he says. “It’s better than most of what’s on the red carpet!” Back in Norwich, Lambert had no clue what a stylist was when he was growing up. The child of a policeman dad and a nurse mum, he had an extensive interest in clothes but no knowledge of fashion per se. It was only when he went to study photography at the University for the Creative Arts Rochester, in Kent, that he was alerted to it. He interned at fashion magazines during his summer holidays, then started working for a senior menswear stylist, and then the position at Topman came up. He speaks fondly of home — he says his dad is quite a “flamboyant” dresser, actually — but admits it took everyone a minute to suss out what he does. “Even up until five years ago my parents would tell people, ‘He’s a stylist,’ and they’d say, ‘Oh, he does hair?’

.

[blackevermore]

x Wade In The Water

{ Chapter 6: Send My Blessing, Dear Child }

Summary: Ester Scott was once in love. She thought the days of her shortcomings were over and that the man she found was her one and only. But all that was taken away when the demons she had became too accustomed to finally took the one thing she had left. Louisiana was her home but the devil down below was calling her name. She only has herself to blame when it came to the hands dragging her under.

Notes: It’s Hazbin Hotel, be ready for everything. Also I apologize for all my mistakes in advance!

Word Count: 3,814

Angels for me will scare me with sharp teeth and many eyes. Angels for you will be of old loves and kiss you cheek.  Both of our angels are righteous, both of our angels are kind. 

- Ester R. Scott

It had been weeks since I saw the devil and his company. Nor had I seen the angels and their haunting eyes. One would think I’d feel more at ease not having someone watch me. But silence was the enemy, silence told you danger was coming before the skin crawling realization of danger was there. Every night before bed, before telling mama goodnight, I looked out the windows and waited to see something. Anything. But nothing was ever there and the disappointment paranoia that rested in my stomach grew.

Chemintine seemed to become catty with my neighbours who welcomed her with opened arms. That was good considering the impression she made when she first got here. They almost thought she fell off the bus and bumped her head, once she explained what was happening she came a causal. There were still some that didn’t like her being here. Said she would cause problems and bring someone else to come and cause bigger problems. There was no point in trying to change their mind, their fear was real just like everyone else here. The last time white folk stumbled into our neighbourhood we had to lock the doors. I was ten when I saw someone being drug down the street and never seen again.  So I tell Clementine to just be the nicest she could be and have the same manners she would have if she met the queen. 

She found it silly. I found it life saving.

“Will you be bring that friend of yours to church tomorrow, Ester?” Miss Bouchard asked me. Today I was helping one of the elderly ladies in the neighborhood with mending her clothes. When I wasn’t at the shop with a task list, I was out and out sewing and mending and caring for those around me. The best I could do when they took care of me when mama passed. Miss Bouchard was a fine woman of only 72 who was like a meme to me. I could tell in her youth was a firecracker that should have left Louisiana. She always kept her hair in tight pin curls with a headwrap tied in bows. As a child I could never tell if her chunky jewelry was real or if it was fake. I wasn’t sure it mattered since she always looked amazing. She never had a husband or children so her freedom was higher than anyone else. Mama would tell me she was nothing but a party girl, so much so every night she would stumble home with her girlfriends arms linked together still singing. Then in the morning she would still out in her robe with said friend nursing herself with coffee. No matter what though Miss Bouchard never missed a day of church, how could she when she was the lead singer in the choir. Now that I’m older I realize those women were never really her friends.

“I don’t think so ma’am, Chemintine isn’t much for church.” I smiled politely and  continued to fold the bed sheets into a tight pile.

“You don’t have to be church folk to come to church. You just have to have an open mind and a free spirit.”

“Oh I’m sure Chemintine is all that and maybe more.” I chuckled to myself and Miss Bouchard tsked at me and I could help but laugh a little more. I finished the bed sheets and moved on to her shirts on her drying line.

“Be nice to that girl. I’ve seen many of her and she’s nothing but a sweet darling.”

“She’s mighty sweet. I’m just not sure if she’ll like it.”

“Have you asked her?”

“No ma’am.”

“Then don’t assume things. The worst thing you can do to another person is assume how they would feel or how they will act. You know better.” It wasn’t much of a scolding but I knew Miss Bouchard meant. All my life so far was a bunch of assuming, a lot of my mama’s life was, and I sure so way Miss Bouchard.

“I’m sorry ma’am.” I gave my apology and she shook her head and sighed.

“Bring the girl and let her see for herself if that’s somewhere she wouldn’t mind going.” Miss Bouchard waved her hand over to me to hand her a shirt and I did. We sat in silence for the rest of the folding till I eventually got up to put everything away. I said my goodbyes and moved on to the next house. My mornings were filled so I wouldn’t be home till the afternoon. 

“Finally you make it home! I was starting to think you went off to work for the whole day.” Chemintine greeted me at the door with a hug and I shooed her off.  She helped me out my coat and took my bag to place on the dining table. “This is what you do every weekend? Is this way you never go out?”

“I do this every so often, it's about giving back to those that helped you. I wouldn’t be here without these folks ‘round here.” I told her and she smiled sweetly.

“Ester, you really are a caring person. I had no idea this was your life.”

“Well I don’t go around talking about it, I preferred if I could keep some things to myself. Mama always said you never want people to be all up in ya business. Because then they’ll start trying to give you advice that won’t work.” Chemintine laughed and went off to the kitchen. 

Mama was right though, a private life was safer than a public one. Even in the conditions we faced. Mama never told anyone where my father ran off to when they asked. Nor did she tell them why she stayed here in Louisiana when everyone else in our family left. She would just sit quietly and allow them to make up whatever story suited their narrative and corrected them only when it was necessary. She told me to never go around like the other black kids bragging about what we had or what we didn’t have at school. At that point you were asking for someone to rob you blind.

I kick off my shoes and pull my legs under me on the small worn down couch and relax against the comfortable back, “Chemintine?”

“Yes Ester?” The blonde stuck her head out from the kitchen arch way.

“They would like to know if you will come to church tomorrow.”

“A-Am I allowed?” Chemintine was hesitant and a bit scared.

“Do you want to?”

“I’ve thought about it. I see you get ready in the morning and when you leave I can see everyone else leaving their houses and they look mighty fine all dolled up. Then I hear yall singing coming home. I wanna sing coming home.” Chemintine smiled bashfully when she finished.

“Then when I say get up and get ready tomorrow I don’t wanna hear ya complaining about nothing.” I rolled my eyes and got up to go to the bathroom. Every morning during the week was a struggle to get Chemintine up for work. I have no idea how she managed on her own back at her daddy’s house. Luckily it didn’t take long for her to snap into action once she was up, it was only getting her out of bed that was the issue.

“I’se be ready! Be kind to me, Ester.” I could help but stop when she said those words to me. Everytime I teased her she said that to me as if I never was. I could tell when she was going to say it by now. Be kind to me. Be kind to me and I’ll always be kind to you. A very powerful saying.

Every Time since I told Chemintie about the angels she’s come to my bedroom door with her dress balled in her hands and her toes crossed over each other. Her messy blonde hair up in rollers and her sharp eyes staring right through me. Every time she would have a question rattling in her mind and I’d wait patiently for her to ask me. ‘Ester are they here’ and I would answer ‘they were until they heard you coming’ or ‘not tonight, Chemintine’ and she walked away a bit upset that she couldn’t be there with them. Tonight was no different as she stood in my door waiting for my attention.

“Chemintine, why do you want to know if the angels are here?” I finally had to ask her. She became so red in the face as she was placed on the spot. She started to twist the end of her nightie into knots as she stumbled back and forth a bit.

“It’s dumb, you’ll laugh at me.” Chemintine said, lowering her head in shame. I patted the space next to me for her to take and she slowly walked over.

“I won’t laugh at you.” I told her in a comforting voice, there was nothing she could really say that would make me laugh at her. Unless she started asking if angels were connected to love then maybe I’d snicker.

“Ya promise?”

“I promise, now what is it?”

“Since you can see them, and I believe you can, I was wondering if when I stand in front of you, you would see my grandma. She died when I was 14 and she always told me she be with me. I miss her so much right now.” Chemintine sighed and looked at me with a defeated look. I shook my head and took her hand in mine and rubbed circles on her thumb.

“I don’t need to see the angels to know you’re grandma is watching over you. Passed loved ones are always watching.”

“Are the angels around you actually your mama?”

“No, I wish one of them was but they ain’t. Mama is resting her feet with a drink in hand and I know it.” I chuckled and that seemed to knock the cloud off from over Chemintine’s head. 

“I hope grandma Gogo is enjoying her music in a garden up there. She used to plant the prettiest daisies. That’s what my name was going to be, Daisy Eve Evans.” Chemintine did jazz hands in the air like magic fell from her fingers.

“Well who named you Chemintine?” I had to ask, I had to know who couldn’t spell Clemintine correctly and cursed this poor girl.

“My daddy, he named me after some hag from the family that came from France.” I pity that damn fool. “It’s a real name ya know, it’s the wrong spelling but for some reason people kept using it. I don’t really like my name.” 

“Oh,” I was speechless a bit, I always thought she wasn’t aware of it. Silly me for assuming, Miss Bouchard was right. “Why don’t you change it?”

“I am, or I was when I got up to New York, I was going to become Daisy as I should have been.” Chemintine face said it all, she had a dream and one day it was going to come true.

“I’ll call you Daisy if you want.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Not right now, I want to get out of here first, make a life of my own and then I’ll be Daisy. Daisy is a woman’s name and I’m nothing but a girl at the moment. I’m not like you Ester.” I narrowed my eyes and cocked an eyebrow at the comment and Chemintine stopped me from saying anything before she could finish. “You were born Ester, you seemed like you were wise ever since you were born. You had the old soul of a woman, never a little girl.” I thought about it a moment then shook my head. If only she knew about all the nights I cried myself to sleep or ran to my mama for comfort because the dark scared me. Sometimes the dark still got the best of me and I found myself hiding under my blankets. 

“Well when we get up there I’ll make sure I’ll say ya name right, Miss Daisy.” I smile and nudge Chemintine’s shoulder and she smiled. She got up and said good night and walked towards the living room. Before I headed to bed myself I looked around my room. As always there was no sight of angels, pity, I would have loved to tell Chemintine there was. 

}~~{

Before the sun was shining through my bedroom window Chemintine was waking me up for breakfast. I could care less where she got the food from as long as my stomach was full and a cup of tea was ready for me. As we sat and ate I read her a passage of the bible which was something mama would do before we got ready. Within an hour it was time to get dressed and leave. Chemintine beamed as she put on her best dress and did her hair. When I finally made it to the living room with my shoes in hand and my overcoat, Chemintine was sitting up on the couch clenching her purse. 

“You okay?” I asked her as I sat beside her and slipped on my heels.

“You sure this is okay? No one will be mad I showed up are they?” Chemintine swallowed hard.

“Some might but not everyone, as I told you before just smile and nod and stay with me.”

“Smile and nod, got it.” When I was ready we headed out the door and down the street. Buses didn’t come on Sundays so walking was the only way to get to and from, luckily no one had to go to the city. When we made it to the church the first bell started ringing which signaled everyone to come in. A few old faces greeted me and when they saw Chemintine behind me they rushed to greet her. They asked her all the times you would ask an old friend and then some. As I waited for the old ladies to leave Chemintine alone with the promise she came by for dinner, I noticed the few sour faces watching from the side. They turned up their noses and held their bags close to them. Some even held their children close to their side so they could come over. Finally I had enough and walked over to pull my friend along.

“Come on now, Chemintine, we have to take our seat.” I smiled sweetly to the olders and excused us so we could get a seat in the front. I knew I wouldn’t be able to have my normal seat in the middle now that Chemintine was with me. So sitting with the elderly was our best bet and a good chance Chemintine wouldn’t notice people staring at her. As service began I was quickly drowning it out with my thoughts. Even when I tried to pay attention I couldn’t and I caught myself staring out the window to the old fields around the church. A few times Chemintine would poke me to ask if I was alright and I would quickly nod and face forward. But with every word the pastor said I turned my head back towards the windows.

“I see today we have a visitor. Would you mind standing and telling us your name?” The pastor called out in the middle of a recession while he thanked everyone for coming. I snapped back to reality as I felt Chemintine start to shake from nervousness. She slowly rose to her feet and I quickly held out my hand for her to grab for comfort.

“Morning church, my name is Chemintine Evans, I’m Ester’s guest for today.” Chemintine tried to smile but it was hard as she tried to keep her cool. Now she understood what it was like to be the only one of your skin color in a room full of others. Only difference was she wouldn’t get beat for breathing.

“Welcome Chemintine, we are happy to have you, everyone could you give a warm welcome for our guest?” The room quickly filled with clapping and “welcome” from people around us. Soon the pastor rose his hand to silence the room so he could speak again. “Chemintine is there anything you would like to say this beautiful Sunday morning?”

“I-I would like to thank Ester for taking me in. Things aren’t going very well at the moment but Ester was a true friend to me and allowed me to stay with her.” Chemintine shook my hand and pulled me forward to stand with her which earned us a few claps. “I’ve only known her for a few years but she’s been nothing but kind to me. Nothing but truthful and teaches me everyday and I want to be able to be just like that as I continue on. Ester is a real friend.”

“Sister Scott, thank you for doing god’s work, he has truly blessed you with a heart so kind and so open. I pray that the both of you will be blessed with god’s righteous path.” Every clapped once again and this time when I looked at Chemintine she seemed more at ease. We quickly mouth thank you and sat back down and for the rest of the serves I could finally pay attention. But beside me, outside the window, I could feel someone watching in and I could tell it was someone good.

After church Chemintine was once again surrounded by church folk asking her questions. Knowing them they were trying to find gossip but with a white girl like Chemintine all they would find was a dreamful country girl. As I waited by the end of the stairs I saw Miss Bouchard slowly walking towards me with a flower in hand.

“Morning Miss Bouchard, did you have a good service?” I asked

“Indeed I did, I’m happy you brought Chemintine with you, she’s a breath of fresh air. Reminds me of an old friend I had long ago who smiled just like that.” Miss Bouchard chuckled then handed me the flower. I took it and noticed it was a white daisy freshly picked from some garden. The church hadn’t had a garden in years so I had no idea where Miss Bouchard could have gotten it unless she held on to it all morning.

“Is this for Chemintine?” I asked gently tucking the flower into my elbow to hold it.

“It is, something told me she would need a flower so I brought one.” Miss Bouchard pointed towards the sky and for a moment my heart skipped a beat. Could it be?

“I’ll make sure to give it to her, Miss Bouchard.”

“Thank you, have a fine day Ester.”

“You too ma’am.” I waved goodbye and watched as the old woman made her way down the street. As I watched her I saw something faint form next to her and when it became less foggy I saw a woman with blonde hair waving goodbye as well. I watched the apparition closely and as she turned around to look at me I thought it was Chemintine. The apparition smiled towards me then looked back towards Miss Bouchard as the women grew small in the distance, then vanished. This was the first time I’ve seen what I believed to be a ghost. First it were angels, then it was the devil, now it was a ghost with faces like my friend. What was next?

“Ester?” Chemintine pulled gently on my jacket to get my attention. “I’ve been calling for ya. Are you okay?”

“O-oh yeah I’m fine. I was just making sure Miss Bouchard got on safely. She’s getting older and I know one day she won't be able to make the walk from her house to here.” It was completely a lie, just not the whole truth, but Chemintine didn’t need to know that.

“That’s really sweet of you, Ester. Are you ready to go?”

“I am, by the way Miss Bouchard wanted me to give this to you.” I gave the daisy to Chemintine and her eyes went wide. She smiled hard and took the flower and tucked it into her hair.

“See, I told ya, daisies are beautiful, ain’t it!” She spun around and I nodded as we started to walk away from the church steps. Chemintine was as happy as could be as she skipped ahead of me talking about all the people she met. She told me she wouldn;t mind going to church if it was with me. I told her she was welcome anytime as long as she didn’t promise anyone we would come over for dinner.

“Be kind to her.” a voice whispered in my ear and I quickly whipped around to see the ghost from earlier standing beside me. Her voice was airy and light but felt welcoming. “Be kind to her, Ester.” The woman looked beyond me towards Chemintine who was now half way down the road. The woman began to age as a slight breeze blew past us. Her blonde hair turned white and her posture started to hunch over as her skin wrinkled. She still had the same eyes as she did before. 

“I will.” I whispered back and nodded as I began to catch up with Chemintine. I didn’t have to peak over my shoulder to know the woman was gone and it was only me and Chemintine walking.

“Chemintine?” I looked over to the blonde who was sitting on the ground reading the newspaper.

“Yes Ester?” She looked up towards me with raised brows and a soft smile.

“You’re grandmother was named Daisy, wasn’t she?”

“Why yes she was, Mrs Daisy Anne Evans, the sweetest woman of Spring, Texas. Raised ten kids all by herself when granddaddy fell into a river and drowned. Why’ya ask?” Chemintine put down her paper and scooted closer to the couch to rest her head against the frame as she looked up at me. I knew she was waiting for me to say something about the angels but I didn’t have to as she read my eyes. She reached up and touched the daisy in her hair before making to her feet and pulling me into a hug.

I patted her back as she cried and asked me to tell her grandma she loved her and missed her. I told her I didn’t have to because she already knew, all of our loved ones that passed knew.

“Tell her anyway, Ester.” Chemintine mumbled into my shoulder happily.

“Tell her yourself.” I chuckled. “I’m sure she can hear you.”

[breenexusblog-blog]

Life as a parent is lonely

Imagine waking up every morning when your alarm goes off. Sitting there for the 10 minutes until you have to wake up your kids for school. Getting them both ready for the day, dropping off your oldest child while the other one stays home with you because she's too young for school. You go out for a target trip, because let's be honest, you've turned into a target mom since having kids. You're walking around and find some great sales on clothes, diapers, toys, movies, books or whatever it may be and you grab your phone because you dont want anyone to miss out on the sales and that's when you realize...there isn't anyone for you to message or call. The emptiness in your stomach isn't from going without breakfast, it's the empty feeling where a friend should be to fill the void.

This is what it's like for me as a mom. Whether it's sales, memes, family drama, a TV show or book. It's a very lonely existence. You must be thinking to yourself, you're not lonely! You have your kids and husband there with you. No, no, no. You don't understand. It's a different kind of lonely, one that mothers and fathers might feel.

I'm surrounded all day long with noises of toys, disney movies, a 19 month old and a non verbal 3½ year old trying to communicate with me. About what they want to eat or drink or whenever my husband comes home and wants to talk about his day and asks about mine went. I just reply with "fine", or I'll tell him about something the kids did. But at the end of the day, it's about what the kids did, not me.

Having a friend as a mother would mean having someone to complain to. About your kids, husband, the weather (because let's be honest, the weather sucks sometimes) or just whatever. Now complaining doesn't sound all that great, but the point is there would be a healthy outlet for your thoughts. Not just bottled up all the time, nor would the complaining be one sided. Almost everyone has something they would like to get off their chest.

Having a friend as a mother would mean going out with your kids AND your friend; and her kids if she had them. Maybe even just you two. You'd Enjoy being out. Because if your friend has kids, that means your kids have friends. Let me tell you that I have gotten so many dirty looks from doctors, nurses and teachers whenever they ask me if my friends play with other children. Why? Because my response is no, I don't have friends with kids. It always makes me feel like a horrible mother because I don't have friends with children for my kids to play with and get that social interaction. A child friendly place is most of the time out of the question because they all cost money that we don't have.

Before you think to yourself "she isnt trying, shes just complaining." I have definitely tried. I'm in a lot of mom groups on facebook. I make posts about if theres anyone nearby that would like a playdate. There never is anyone close.

Whenever my youngest daughter was still little, I went to the grocery store. There was another mother there who had a daughter around the same age as mine. They were playing and laughing, So i thought to myself 'They'd be great friends. It would be good for her to have someone her age to play with.' We parted ways and I finished my grocery shopping. Before leaving the store, I went up to that lady and gave her my phone number. I told her theres a park by my house and I'd really like it if we could have a playdate.

This took a lot of courage for me. I have severe depression as well as anxiety. My heart was beating out of my chest. So I waited for her text to set up a date like she said. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. I understand people have lifes and things happen. But I was disappointed, and my mental illness told me that's what I get for being optimistic about something.

At the end of the day, moms and dads like me are very lonely. We try to make those connections for the sake of our kids, and ourselves, But every single time they fall through.

It seems like everyone already has a best friend or enough friends. So I'm always ghosted by what I thought was a blooming friendship. It's hard to keep hope whenever things never quite work out.

So I'll keep waiting for someone to come along and I'll work hard at continuing to better myself. Because life is really lonely, and I'd like to share who I am and what I enjoy with someone and hope they can do the same.

"Only those that care about you can hear you when you're quiet."

*this was written around 2am before I fell asleep.*

[jewishnurse]

Patients who lie about their care

We’ve all seen that meme of the angry old lady with the words commenting on how she tells her family she hasn’t been bathed in days, even though she really just keeps refusing to be cleaned up. I’m sure many people have seen that meme as well as real life scenario in the hospital or even nursing home.

For the past year I’ve experienced some instances of this occurring where patients lie to family, other staff etc and throw the nursing staff under the bus.

First was a patient let’s called “Mr K”. He had a surgery that was painful, he had a low pain tolerance. Not only did he ask for pain medications (usually narcotics) but he demanded and raised his voice each time as well. When the nursing staff would explain the consequences of having too much, he would only raise his voice even more and have an angrier face on. When he became unresponsive, the staff tried every trick in the book they learn. He did no flinch even slightly at the most painful ways to arouse a patient awake. The doctors in the room had asked what he was given, the list was relayed by the patient’s nurse. The shock on the face of the doctors is something that cannot be explained with words or imitations. The patient was in the bed, eyes closed, barely breathing and the staff was scrounging to assess and get the supplies needed. In this case, NARCAN. The miracle drug being used on the streets more often than before. Easier to come by than insulin and Epipens. Narcan was given to this patient, a couple times, he finally woke up. Looking like he just woke up from a horrible drunk passed out evening of fun and puking. When he finally woke up enough to put the blame on somebody, he chose the nursing staff, of course. “Mr. K, we had to narcan you, you had taken too many pain medications too close together”. Mr K then followed up with this statement “I told the nurses not to give me anymore, but they kept pushing the pain meds on me, the nurses need to be more careful next time”. Moments like this will happen whether you want them to or not.

Most recently I had a patient who decided she enjoyed making me miserable. Let’s call her Mrs. P. She is a common frequent flier, always coming into the hospital for chronic issues and never seems to leave early enough. One of her fun activities, fun for her, is making the staff miserable and keeping us from our patients, even emergencies. The other day I was getting ready to give her medications. Then Mrs. P decided she would not take her meds until her bed was exactly how she wanted it. This comes after spending an hour in her room fixing her bed. After she refused her meds, i had to go help a patient out where time was of the essence. After I returned to see if Mrs. P would take her medications I got a call from my PCT that Mrs. P had told my boss that I wouldn’t give her her medications. I then had to go in the room with the patient, yes it was awkward, and tell my boss that the patient was not telling her the truth.

[tarnishedhalo]

SQUIRM - is your muse interested in going to dates? what was their worst one?

The Meme From The Lost Lagoon || - He looks at the lost pup a minute, head tilted to one side. She's young. Younger than his sister even, and that makes the question an awkward one to answer, because he has to self-edit. Doesn't feel right talking to her the way he would any of his friends or even the Ulster Fuck. Definitely not the way he'd answer his brother. And that brings up another question in its entirety. Does she think this is a date? His intention had been pure, to drag her out from underneath his car. None of the repairs she was making were things he couldn’t do, considering he’d put Sally back together in the first place from rusted out piece of junk in O’ahu to the beautiful and seductive beast she is now. But it gives him a way and reason to keep an eye on her, to keep her safe, and make sure she doesn’t have to skip meals. He pays her under the table, four times the going rate of even the most expensive Manhattan car shop. “Worst date? Uh. I guess it was a while ago, back when I was a kid...” He had been twenty one, but he doesn’t want to say ‘around your age’ in case he’s wrong about her. “Let’s just say...things were uh...pretty romantic...and uhm. My sister comes home early. Needless to say I wasn’t expecting her and she walks right in, bold as brass, and stands there. Staring. Pharmacy bag in hand. For what felt like an eternity. Watching me...and...uhm. She had questions. I sorta had answers...and my ‘date’ didn’t ever talk to me again, but I guess that’s okay because...” Because that was really all there had been between them, and truth be told it wasn’t that great. Of course sex is kind of like pizza. Bad or cold, it’s still pretty okay. Well, except that one time, with the nurse, but that hadn’t been a date. In fact, he’d still been in the hospital.  Riley shudders internally and outward. “But anyway. I mean dates are great, when you meet the right person and you wanna see if there’s something there between you two, and you know what your goals are. I’m also kinda old fashioned that way. I want to pick you up, meet you at your door. I want to open doors, and pay for whatever we’re doing. I’m gonna walk on the outside of you. I might bring flowers or wine, I will absolutely tell you how beautiful you look, I will get you back home safe as houses. And I think more guys... or uh...” He falters. He doesn’t exactly know the right words to use. “Trans men? Masculine presenting... I just think more people should treat their ladies like that. But... enough about me. What about you, kid? What’s your whole take on stuff?”

[avani008]

Four Seasons Meme: Devasena

For @ratnananda, @cassandor, & multiple (?) anon:

(Behind the cut because it is LONG)

Spring

the circumstances of his/her birth | favorite (or least favorite) family member | first word | happiest birthday | genderswap au

Jayasena wrinkles his nose. “That’s what all the fuss was about?” he must ask, youth making him candid.

“Hush,” says Mother; “You musn’t say such things about your baby sister”; and Jayasena knows that it’s important to look after her, that she must be worth something for Mother to go to all the trouble of having her, but at the moment, it all seems rather pointless.

“She took her time being born,” he observes instead, because Mother had been locked up in her chambers with her ladies with almost a day and a half--the longest he had ever gone without so much as a glance of her; if he’s honest with himself, it leaves him not a little annoyed to have lost so much of her attention.

Mother shakes her head fondly. “She wanted to be born in spring,” she explains. “Just after dawn on the first day of Chaitra. My little Devasena.”

That at least gives Jayasena hope that his sister is sharp as well as stubborn, to pick the nicest month of all to explore her new world; and, ignoring Mother’s grin, he leans closer to look at her with new interest.

*

Once a year, Devasena and her brother must travel south to visit their great-uncle, much to her loud protests. Aditya Varma lives on a sprawling estate far from the palace; and his insistence on seeing his remaining family is matched only by his stubborn refusal to leave his house. “He’s old, Devasena,” Jayasena reminds her, “we must make allowances”; but Devasena can’t see that any allowances can excuse the long hours of boredom while Aditya Varma rails at them of his hatred for anyone under the age of sixty, the smell of horses, the kingdom of Mahishmati, insolent children, loud noises, Mahishmati’s odious royal family, all foods that weren’t rice and bland sauce, cloudy weather, and--of course--Mahishmati.

“If I live,” she begs her brother when they leave, “to be so embittered, promise me you’ll kill me yourself.”

Jayasena’s mouth twitches, the one sure sign that he shares her exasperation. “If you’ll do the same for me.”

*

“Mine,” says Devasena: the first word on her lips, and her favorite. She is so proud of what she has learned, however, that she does not always use it correctly. “Mine,” she proclaims when pointing at the fine white throne that will be her brother’s someday; “Mine,” she announces when taken to see the calves in their pen.

“What shall we do with you?” sighs her nurse, while her mother laughs, and Devasena--Devasena takes one look across the courtyard at the gleaming bows displayed in the armory.

“Mine,” she says, with certainty, and neither woman can deny her.

*

She can remember only the faintest of memories from her fourth birthday. The smell of her mother’s hair; her father laughing. They had gone for a picnic, she thinks, or perhaps her mind had added that later. Either way, she recalls sitting in the warmth of daylight, until a sunshower had sent them scurrying to the shelter of the trees. Father had swooped Devasena up onto his shoulders, and Jayasena tickled her dangling feet, and Mother dried her wet hair, still winded from their flight.

She can remember only the faintest of memories from her fourth birthday: that is all she needs to know she will never be so happy again.

*

Dhananjayan comes home to find the palace in chaos--a pity, since he so wanted to make a favorable impression on his new friends. Therefore his tone is somewhat clipped when he asks his brother what in the world has happened to send them scurrying about so.

Jayasena is grim. “More than you know, brother; the Pindari have declared vengeance against us, and our army doubts they can hold them off again, with their numbers so reduced-”

That is all right; that is what Dhanajayan was put on this earth for. “Leave it to me,” he assures Jayasena, and beckons Baahu-with-no-other-name and his uncle forward. “And while I’m at it, let me introduce you to who I met when I was away--”

Summer

fantasy | love language of choice | a pet or other animal companion| the decoration of their bedroom| fusion au

“You’re not a witch,” Devasena asks, uneasily, and Sumitra looks aghast.

“Certainly not,” she says. “I only--maneuver matters about somehwat; and truly what difference is there between brewing a poultice and a potion?”

Devasena swallows. “For one thing, it’s--I mean, the priests say magic is wicked.”

Sumitra pauses, and approaches her. “Devasena,” she says gently, hands on her sister-in-law’s shoulders; “do I seem wicked to you?”

No, never, not Sumitra; Devasena shakes her head, and Sumitra smiles. “Then come here and let me teach you what I know.”

*

Devasena has learned to judge a man by his actions. Touches can be manufactured, and words are eternally meaningless; gifts are nothing more than bribes to purchase servitude. The problem is finding someone who satisfies her standards. Even those who present a facade of genuine selflessness and strength are proven otherwise before too long--and she trains herself to treat all suitors with suspicion.

(Sometimes, she wonders if she would have seen even her Baahubali with disfavor if he hadn’t thought to come before her in disguise.)

*

“Crown Princess,” says the cowherd; “there is no one else.”

For a terrible instant, Devasena’s mind goes blank with panic; the next, she struggles back to some semblance of calm. This is nothing she has not been taught before, but--it’s only--well, she’s never done so alone before. But fear changes nothing; she guides the laboring cow to the ground and grits her teeth.

The calf, when he is born, is a fine specimen; when she’s asked what he shall be called, Devasena smiles and suggests, “Madhvaiyya.”

*

Devasena sniffs at decadence. Her rooms are to be kept simple, she tells anyone who will listen: only the simplest of surroundings, open windows, and a curtain to keep away errant insects during their slumber. Try as she might, though, a princess cannot escape prosperity entirely; her sheets are still silk, and the cool marble floor warmed with braziers. Devasena tells herself that if she had any choice in the matter, she would refuse it as soon as possible.

(Years later, in her cage, Devasena laughs and laughs at her younger self.)

*

Her parents had been soulmates. Devasena knows that even though she barely recalls them. She can bring to mind the sound of her mother’s voice and the laugh lines carved in her father’s face, and not much else besides. Her brother, however, remembers well enough for both of them, and he is generous with his memories.

“It was not,” he tells her on nights when she can’t sleep, “that they were always of one mind—in fact they disagreed quite often! But the world burned bright around them when they were together, and the palace shone with their happiness. All Kuntala prospered from it.”

Devasena hugs her knees and tries not to squeal with satisfaction. Such behavior is undignified for a Crown Princess, in particular the sort of Crown Princess who would have to foster such an impressive reputation that her soulmate should be drawn to her as soon as possible. And that achieved, they could get on with the important business of bringing as much joy to Kuntala as her parents had in their day.

It is perhaps not the most well-thought of plans.

Fall

the one person/cause/ideal they would sacrifice everything for| storms| nightmare | the lie(s) he/she has told | hero/villain reversal au

It isn’t that she’s selfish, quite the contrary: Devasena would sacrifice herself and her happiness in a heartbeat if she thought it would make any difference.

“Baahubali” would make for a pretty answer, but it is not quite true. She might be carried away by romance as any other woman; but it is not enough to make her forget who and what she is.

Kuntala would win her praise, but even that cannot be accurate--Devasena

No, instead it’s liberty she holds dearest to her heart.

*

Her parents argued once.

Only when they thought she and Jayasena were safely asleep, of course; they had no way of knowing that Devasena had tiptoed to their chambers. Even now the memory reminds her of nothing so much as summer storms, the sharpness of her mother’s voice, the rumble of her father’s. She does not know what caused the disagreement, or how even long it lasted; only that it ended, as all storms must. When she wakes, they are there, together, smiling at her, and she remembers them standing closer beside each other than ever.

It’s from them she learns not to fear quarrels and debates in love.

*

She sees Kuntala in shambles, its river running bright with blood.

She smells smoke in the distance, and the stench of burning flesh-- a satisfaction that terrifies her worms its way into her heart.

She hears the clank of chains and the jeers of a strange crowd.

She feels her fingers clutching for something--someone--beloved and finding nothing.

“Only a nightmare, my darling,” soothes her nurse, and Devasena, reassured, slips back into sleep.

*

As a rule, Devasena lies badly. Her morals are as straightforward as the direction of the arrows she shoots: she has no patience for prevarication. Besides, when she expects nothing less than perfect honesty from everyone around her, do they not deserve the same in return?

Still, she thinks she can make an exception just this once, when Jayasena peers at her, worried, the day after the disastrous seemantham; “You do not wish for me to stay longer with you? You believe all will be well?”

Devasena forces a smile. “Yes,” she replies, “I am sure it will.”

*

Kuntala has not the manpower nor the machinery nor the money to stand up to Mahishmati, but Devasena knows all too well that a pretty face can work wonders where the strength of thousands cannot. It is not difficult: a few languishing looks, pretended ignorance as to the appearance of the future King of a neighboring country, and Devasena has the betrothal she wants. And this, too, a few sharp words, and Sivagami Devi lashes out, forever branded as unreasonable in her son’s regard. A few more delicate suggestions, a few more inadvertent misunderstandings, and her husband will have no choice but to take the throne for himself, free of the Queen Mother’s influence, or die a declared traitor.

Baahubali will be the future of Mahishmati, Devasena knows, but he is hers; and through him, the rest of the Empire will rest in her hands, as well. 

Winter

haunting | tarot | then and now | gods and mortals | reincarnation au/historical era swap

Devasena goes mad on the third night she spends in the cage. She is never certain why. It could be because of the glare of the sun on her face during the day, or because of the lash of cold rain against her sunburned shoulders at night. It could be because of the crusted blood on her feet, left both by labor and the touch of the Queen Mother’s hand. She finds she does not care, can’t bring herself to care, because thunder rumbles and lightning slashes the sky, and her dead husband is sitting before her on the opposite side of her cell.

For an instant her heart leaps. There had been a secret plan by Kattappa to save his protege, she hypothesizes wildly, or it had all been a lie to break her spirit on Bhallaladeva’s part — but the eyes of Amarendra Baahubali are sad when they find hers in a way they never were in life, and she knows. Devasena has never been able to hide from the truth; that has always been her blessing and her curse. And today, apparently, it has driven her mad.

That doesn’t stop her from giving into instinct and stumbling forward into his arms. The best thing about being mad is that his skin feels warm against hers, almost as though he were still living flesh instead of a spirit who loves her too much to leave her. The shock of it, the familiarity, sends fresh tears down her cheek, hot and bitter, and after a moment, she recovers enough to recognize the sounds coming from her mouth as, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you-

*

She sees a representation of Strength one day: a strange one, a woman standing with a lion tamed at her feet. It is not the Great Goddess, who rides the fierce beast with pride; this woman eyes the creature with unease.

“She holds the bindings firm nonetheless,” says the merchant who sells the image, as though she can read Devasena’s thoughts. “You might learn much from her, Crown Princess.”

That seems unlikely, but Devasena purchases the picture anyway. When, much later, she eyes Bhallaladeva’s rooms and armor, and the beasts emblazoned there, she realizes at last the warning that image contained.

*

Then Devasena walked this hall with her wrists heavy with chains, and her heart ablaze with anger and shame; now she walks no less slowly, although she’s unimpaired. Years of captivity have left her with a limp, and she’s all too aware she slows down her son’s procession to the throne. Shivu looks as though he would stare down anyone who protests, however, even were it her, and so she keeps her silence.

Then Devasena walked this way, a humiliated princess who was learning what it was to hate. Now, as Queen Mother, she dares hope she might have the freedom to learn to love again.

*

They think of her husband as a god these days. The stories grow in number: Baahubali had the strength of ten men—no, a thousand! Baahubali was blessed with precognition; Baahubali could no more dream of doing wrong than the sun could rise in the West. Devasena knows all too well how her Baahubali would have hated it, but she will not take this from the people of Mahishmati; they have already lost so much.

They think of her husband as a god, and someday soon, only Devasena will remember that all he wanted was to be mortal like them.

*

Best of all Devasena loves lazy mornings. She wakes early, as is her habit; but there is something glorious about letting her eyelids drift shut as she listens to her husband’s soft snores. Outside the window, the city comes to life; but not one of the thousands of lives out there depends on her as they once did.

The children are asleep, the morning only just begun, and Baahubali is in her bed. Devasena is content.

[ddtriohub]

For the ship meme: any combo of my muses (Sophie, Ren) and your muses? XD get wild!

Answering Ship questions from this meme: [x] ||Accepting||Sophie and @queenharumiura​

Under readmore it goes: 

So like, I felt like I wanted to explore this a lil bit so here we are.

Gives nose/forehead kisses:

Given the fact that Sophie is the eldest sister in her family and Haru is an only child, i’m sure she would like to be spoiled with nose/forehead kisses. I’m sure Haru would reciprocate when she can but I feel like such actions come more naturally to Sophie. Spoken like a true older sister that I am. The day my siblings were ‘too old’ for hugs and stuff from their sister is the day I felt like I lost something in the world. 

Gets jealous the most:

Mmnnn I guess maybe Haru? I don’t really see Sophie as being the type to get jealous so much? Maybe a bit insecure, but I don’t think that she’d waste much energy on being jealous. Haru, though she can feel a bit upset by someone being too forward with someone who caught her fancy (or in this case her girlfriend), she’d understand that her lover wouldn’t cheat on her so why feel so bad about it? 

Takes care of on sick days:

They both would take care of each other. Haru was training under Nana for a while to be a Yamato Nadeshiko. She’s trained to be the ULTIMATE wife. She’ll nurse Sophie back to health in no time! 

I’m sure the same goes for Sophie. She’s very well put together and she’s very efficient with the things that she does. It wouldn’t be too surprising that she’d be good at nursing people back to health. She’s a very responsible woman, so i’m sure that even in her younger years, she was put to the task of making sure her siblings were healthy and well. 

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day:

Haru, probs. Haru is a pretty active lil thing, so I can see her trying to drag Sophie into the water with her so they can play. Maybe Sophie will feel a bit insecure at first and not wanna go but Haru is super stubborn, you know? She’s going to win this battle! Lets go! You don’t have to drag Haru in, she’s more than ready to just jump into the water. 

Brings the other lunch at work:

Mnnn I’d like to say Haru. Not to say that I don’t think Sophie would do so for Haru, but it’s like-- Sophie is a busy lady. I’m sure Haru would love to just wake up and make a lunch for her. The Yamato Nadeshiko training has to bear fruit, yanno? Besides, even if she wasn’t even dating Tsuna, she still tried making him lots of lunches. She just seems to love the idea of making someone a lunch, so I feel like this would be Haru’s job. 

Tries to start role-playing in bed:

Eh--- I mean... //stares at Haru’s various cosplay tendencies 

Yeah. This embarrasses me so I wanna quit this answer, but i’m sure Haru wears her various costumes and tries to play around---. I guess. ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Embarrassingly drunk dancer:

I feel like--- Haru? I’m not sure how Sophie would be when drunk, but given how energetic Haru is? I feel like she’d be a happy drunk who dances around. It kinda fits with the whole ‘gymnastics’ thing, I feel. 

Firmly believes in couples costumes:

The lil love bug that she is, Haru would really love to do things like coupes COSTUMES. Come on now, COSTUMES. That has  HARU written ALL OVER IT. I’m so sorry Sophie. You’ll just have to suffer a lot. 

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas:

Still not too sure what this means. Assuming it’s like ‘we will promise not to buy each other an expensive thing during Christmas’ kinda promise--- I feel like both may try to be pretty serious about it. I’m thinking that both would really love home made kind of gifts, and they both do like to create-- so I’m thinking both of them would give each other a gift that they made for the other on Christmas. IF one is going to bring the rule, it would maybe be something like a proposal and you had to buy the ring for it? Probably only then. 

Makes the other eat breakfast:

I’m sure that they both switch off. Sophie makes breakfast on some days, and Haru makes breakfast on the other days. They have a good balance going on so that they can both make food for their loved one. Sophie seemed like a woman who really likes to take care of people and her sense of responsibility makes her want to provide for people. Haru loves to cook and know that her cooking is well received. She also loves to support people, so i’m sure that she’d also want to cook sometimes. She wouldn’t be happy if she could never cook in the relationship. I feel like more than just one being in charge of meals, they also love to cook together?

Remembers anniversaries:

I’m sure both of them would remember anniversaries. Haru would get very excited about them and plan for them in advance. I’m sure Sophie would too, but maybe if she gets really busy she loses track of time? Even then, I feel like she’ll have something prepared. 

Brings up having kids first:

Haru loves kids a lot so i’m sure it would be her to first suggest it. 

Kills the bugs:

I’m pretty sure the answer here is Sophie. I’m like 1000% sure that Haru would scream and cry at the sight of most bugs and Sophie will have to come in with a shoe and SMACK!-- unless she’s the capture and release kind of sort. Regardless, I don’t see Haru being able to deal with the bugs. 

First to define them as a couple:

Haru, most likely. She’s very into things like relationships and she’s very open so I wouldn’t be surprised she’d be the first to define them. I mean--- //looks at her and Tsuna

She was calling herself his WIFE even before anything. Let’s be real, Haru would define them first, maybe even before they became an item. 

Who hides their guilty pleasures longer:

Given the fact that she really takes to the idea of wanting to be a Yamato Nadeshiko, i’m sure that she’d keep some things to herself thinking that it isn’t very ‘lady-like’ and so she’d keep them a secret until maybe Sophie figured it out and then she’d have to slowly admit to it. 

Though I feel like Sophie wouldn’t be too ready to admit some of her guilty pleasures either. Maybe it’s one of those things where they both kinda hide it for some time until it reveals itself and then it’s like //SHRUG let’s talk about our guilty pleasures, shall we? 

Snorts while laughing:

I wanna say neither of them do, to be honest. I don’t really see them being the snorting type when they laugh? Like Sophie seems to have more of a subdued and tender laugh. Kinda calm and collected. Haru has such a jingly kinda laugh, a bit loud, but I don’t think it would be like a snort. If she does snort, you can bet yer ass that she is going to stop at no costs to make sure she never does it where there is a living human being within ear shot. 

[aloneinxthenight]

M*A*S*H starters

memes from the 4077th

ATTENTION ALL PERSONNEL: Here we have a compendium of sentences from a show that is known as one of the best television shows of all time. This was not a request, I do not do requests for starter lists. I was legitimately just watching M*A*S*H and thought the world would be much better with another starter list from it. Feel free to add names and change pronouns as needed, if you wanna add any zingers from the show yourself, don't hesitate! Since M*A*S*H is a military type show, I tried to get as many sentences that could apply to everyone as possible. There's some angst, a whole lot of humor and a few one-liners in here which took hours of watching (such hard work) to compile so enjoy! And if you're sending any one of these tongue-tingling phrases to a multi-muse blog, please specify the muse!

I had a hamster back home who used to get the same look in his eyes when he wasn't feeling good.

Except for your face, your mind and your body, you're a complete dud.

Should we ask some people in or should we just be boring on our own?

Oh, I never do. If I keep washin' them they stay clean forever.

She was in here before, with me, alone.

Maybe it was her perfume... Maybe it was mine.

Do me a favor _______, if you find out I've died, just leave me lying there in the crabgrass.

At least my mouth is still working.

Oh hey, I was there. The army was cleaning out Lincoln's nose.

What do you miss the most about back home?

Well we couldn't finish it anyway, _______ confiscated the best parts.

Almost lifelike.

You wish each of us a prostitute?

He could sell brass knuckles to Gandhi.

How could he be alive like that one second then dead the next?

I could give you a lot of medical reasons but... understanding doesn't make it less painful.

We got to be friends in just a few hours!

Friends don't need any more.

Gee, I hope I don't cry...

When was the last time you felt like crying?

_______ is an expert on fits.

Do I hear ten? Sold to the grim reaper in the third row.

You bought the garbage?

Well, you said get a hobby!

I thought we'd give _______ an appropriate aloha.

Beautiful! Beautiful! A Tintoretto in barf!

I had dreams like this all through puberty...

I didn't see any of it, but I loved it.

That's my garbage!

No, no, that's my garbage, _______, I have a receipt!

I don't kiss and tell... it was terrific.

Ali "Babble" to the end, aren't ya?

How'd you like a grenade in your truss?

Besides my life, _______ wants my virginity.

We all do.

If only I'd known!

He wrote in big letters, "Know your Enema."

Your fly is open.

Don't leave your unopen mail around.

I know you're not giggling because you're wearing feathered underwear, you just can't wait to park your can behind this desk.

Have a good time and, uh, don't do anything I wouldn't do.

I don't know that I'd want to do anything you would do.

Of course, God wasn't surrounded by a bunch of flakes.

I object to the word weird!

You see, I told you it was a war! But no, you keep saying we're both dreaming!

What do you think you're doing wearing civilian underpants?!

Is nothing sacred? These happen to be my mothers!

I'm here to discuss something besides underwear.

My mother always said two things: Never argue with crazy people and always wear clean underwear.

_______, your sanity's sprung a leak.

I think it's going very well, don't you?

It'll never happen... Probably.

Oh, I just figured if a priest could be tempted, that's the type of stuff he'd steal.

What are you looking for, _______?

His marbles.

Are you with him, or are you independently crazy?

The eyes always give the guilty away. The windows to the soul.

Don't tell me he sleeps with you.

I'm hoping to do better.

I knew I should have ripped the stuffin's out of the little bugger when I had the opportunity...

It was one of those days that more than most, reminds us all that war, however much we may enjoy it, is no strawberry festival.

Saving lives is my business, mister.

Was that a bomb?

Uh, no, _______ Someone's playing the WWII album!

You can either help the wounded or become one.

You beat the rap, Babyface!

Lovely place, Bellevue.

"Hold your potatoes..."

I'll probably develop an urge to walk on the water.

Isn't that where the Austrailian nurse scratched you?

Only because I wanted to go home in her pouch.

I patched that months ago.

It's talent, pure talent.

Mmm, sounds serious. You may be coming down with mental health.

It's not a death wish, is it?

You're not the self-destructive type.

You suppose any of us will speak English again?

Perhaps his arms will get tired.

I never sleep in the hospital.

Now they're sending me back.

I think I need less luck back here.

Gee, you're a nice guy.

I used to get hit if I wasn't.

Should I be hearing Arthur Godfrey?

I know you're working but I just wanted to say thanks.

I hope I never see you again, ya know?

I came, I saw, I bored.

Completely forgettable looks that stay with you forever.

Sounds like we're getting into flashback country.

________'s too sharp for that, he always leaves a trail of breadcrumbs.

If I didn't see her every hour, I got the bends.

I know you were young but you must have had names.

Look at that. Talent. I'm not just a pretty face.

You're weird.

Give the little lady a cigar.

Dinner here is around 7. Nausea's around 8.

You have your choice: Gin or gin?

It's pure poison.

We think so.

How do I look?

A little thinner, a little paler. A few gray hairs.

These aren't mine, I'm breaking in a friend's senility.

How do you stand on the subject of sitting?

Children? No, I'm still my only child.

You're trying too hard. Are you uncomfortable?

There's been no one since you.

I had to survive.

Right. Here's to survival.

I'm just afraid of your voice giving me frostbite.

Hurt? You broke my legs. It really tore me apart when you left me.

I got over the hate but I never got over the love.

Oh! Master complicator.

God forbid anything should ever be easy.

"Be myself", You said! Well, myself happens to love you.

Oh, now I understand. Since we're in love there's no possible reason for us to be together!

You've just proposed yourself into a corner!

I just don't want to take a backseat again. I like it up front.

If anybody asks, I turned you down. Yeah?

If it's a police action, why didn't they send cops?

I'm not over here because I'm such a fan of diarrhea!

Can the balloon juice, _______!

How do you keep all that stuff in your head?

Man, seein' the way you guys work makes me proud every time I throw up.

One more word and I'll button your lip to your fly.

Amazing what can get stuck in the human body.

I just know how hard it is to operate and be secretary of state at the same time.

Everybody's got a buddy in there.

Look we'll keep you posted, let you know if it's a boy or a girl.

Hey, would you like some Jeep butter?

I've just heard something very disturbing and if it's true then I'm afraid I'll have to fight you.

When I was five, I had a crying fit because they wouldn't let me have a crew cut.

Uglier than rats mating in my duffel bag?

I worked my way through divinity school as a "B" girl in San Diego.

I smell something burning.

The laundry's on fire.

_______ I don't know how to tell you this, but I've had a better offer.

Take me with you.

Just wanted to thank you for staying.

Some of their saltier comments had been deleted.

The dictionary. I figure it's got all the other books in it.

The only thing that's not green is the blood.

I suppose they do and that gets to be a pain in the ass too.

I'd like it to happen to me to break up the boredom.

That's on the Hungarian side of town.

Well, do you see anything good coming out of this?

There's always terror to fall back on.

Oh, so that's what it's like to have a bomb explode a few feet away from me.

I stopped having morale about six months ago.

You know, I used to love reading Hemingway because he wrote so well.

I guess I got a little drunk.

Uh "a lot" is a relative term.

If I knew all the answers, I'd run for God.

Pistachio ice cream... And bananas.

She squeezes your nose.

Some people heard the screaming and said, "That sounds just like Eleanor Roosevelt!"

I'd like to take six to seven months and become unconscious.

And then I'd like to go to Europe and sleep there for a year.

I had to come over here to be a star!

The nearest one is over in Grange Hall in uh, Mooseville. About 50 miles away.

Oh, I don't have to say hello, I know how everybody feels about me.

No, I think she doesn't like me. I mean that's the only conclusion I can draw.

He could have at least called me a son of a bitch. He's done it for others.

Heads up!

No talking in rank!

He's a magician with latrines and cesspools.

Don't tell me not to say anything.

He's brighter than I thought.

Garbage head.

Santa Claus is coming to town.

♫ I love to go swimmin' with bow-legged women and swim between their legs. ♫

Wounded come before personal chafing.

Oh give him a break, Alice, you're the first woman he's seen in months.

You always give me the cuties.

He owes me, I sent him a case of Preparation H.

Just don't sit on anything cold.

Okay guys, time to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud.

He'll punch my arm.

Wear your heavy sweater.

My God, now I'm talking like you.

That watch you sold me runs backward!

I can't stand that pimply voice.

That is Grade A 100% bull cookies!

Never doubt your X-ray or your hairdresser.

Too bad this kid didn't come with a zipper.

Why didn't I shoot my foot and stay in Honolulu?

Don't get upset, just eat your carrot slowly.

Your nostrils are flaring.

My nostrils have a right to flare, I'm in charge.

You tell him if he takes this chair, my tuchus will attack him barehanded.

The permanent verticle smile. Famed in song and story?

I'm starvin'. I'd even settle for one of _______'s armpit sandwiches.

Oh, you finally realized I have a beautiful body.

I've never seen your body!

If you need me, I'll be packing up my troubles in my old kit bag.

No, but I was always prepared.

_______ when all this is over, I'm gonna adopt you.

Come on, Pokey!

There are sequins all over the ground!

Me, scared? This whole body is one white knuckle.

I'll have the shoelaces, house dressing. And have the chef remove the laces.

There's a lady on my foot.

Oh, miss, this probably isn't your table but could you scratch the back of my knee?

Would I deny you a belch?

Oh to be in England now that war is here.

Due To circumstances beyond our control, lunch will be served today.

Please excuse these two, they're themselves today.

The men hate me, don't they?

_______, you are a gentleman and a lady.

Whoa, did you know it's yesterday there?

Standby for the blessing.

Standby for the blessing!

STANDBY FOR THE BLESSING!

Nothing comes after Amen.

Looks like an abandoned schoolhouse.

Look in the boxes marked kitchen utensils.

Concubines? In a schoolhouse?

Oh no, I love that after church on toast.

That's not your dress! I'll kill ya!

But my blue chiffon is from Murdoch's in Toledo!

_______, that's the finest act of bravery I've ever witnessed.

I don't sleep well on a soft wall.

The weather's clear. I can see the stars.

Oh, thank you comrade, and get me some borscht. Easy on the sour cream.

_______ stop that!

Give him a smooth ride.

I'm gonna be ravaged, I know it!

Tell 'em you're with me.

I was overrun by a batch of bimbos!

It tickled but I kinda liked it.

And midnight has been canceled.

You think you're real smart. But you're not smart; you're dumb. Very dumb. But you've met your match in me.

Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of happy hour.

50 more pounds, and I'm homeward-bound!

I call it "Suicide by Salami"!

You're always wrong, _______. That's what's so right about you.

Live! That's an order!

I'm so cold I think my pilot's gone out.

How much of this can a man take? We must have seen this picture twelve times in the last month. It's a recurring nightmare with popcorn.

Act like a man, you sniveling twerp!

I was born with someone waiting to see me.

Why don't you guys like me?

Because you're a lousy _______ and a rotten person.

Well, there's your pimples.

My pores won't close!

I've been up and down on a merry-go-round since I got here!

I've barely slept a wink!

It's not just big, it's great big with whipped cream!

You shouldn't mention _______'s chest when it's not here to stand up for itself.

Thank you, Daddy Warbucks.

Well, for your information, I've never had any complaints.

Dead men tell no tales.

I know the diamond's not so big, it's a family heirloom.

Must be a small family.

I keep pinching myself to see if I'm dreaming.

I'm engaged to be married!

He sleeps on a bare piece of plywood.

I couldn't love anyone who didn't outrank me.

Are you sure you're not rushing into this in the heat of... Whatever heat you might be in?

This ole cowboy ain't gonna be lonesome tonight.

He's busy tuning his face.

My student council could have used someone like her.

I thought this was going to be a fun meeting.

Get ready to duck, he's liable to explode.

Did anyone ever tell you, you have the voice of a songbird slowly drowning in tar?

If you act drunk long enough, you get a REAL hangover.

Unhand me you varlet, you know not who you touch.

You'd be surprised what a priest can get away with.

Hear ye, Hear ye, it's 0700 and all is hell.

Remove your hand or I'll zap you with my knee.

He touched me.

What a physique! Shoulders like this! Dancers legs and cute little behind!

_______ there'll be no more chinny chin chin. Or any other part of me.

Uh oh, he took his gun and his toothbrush.

Shooting his mouth off again?

Son, heroics just get people killed. They don't impress anybody.

Well, you see I had this friend... And this friend just pretended to like me. You know, the way Dad used to?

They're not pagans, _______. Everyone's going to be wearing clothes.

Oh my God! They've shot him!

Did _______ steal that jeep?

I didn't even know you were gone. I thought you were in the bathroom.

Maybe some people like having other people run their lives, but some people don't.

Oh, stop dreaming a go back to sleep!

I don't remember leaving a wake-up scream.

_______ do me a favor will ya? Visit me a couple hundred times will ya?

Can't you see I can't see?

I wore this with just you in mind.

I heard the hair on your legs rustling.

[the-singular-peep]

Answer 30 questions and tag 20 people

I was tagged by @mikeandelwheeler

Nickname(s): My flutes call me Mama/Mommy (or “MAAAA” if they want something), close friends call me Bessy, family calls me Beezus. Sometimes Die Kliene Eidechse by my boyo! (The other day after a party at the nursing home I worked I told my friend I was gonna go home and eat eggos and she said “Eleven who???” And I kinda love that but it’s hardly a nickname)

Gender: Female/cis

Sign: Cancer

Height: 5′0"

Time: 1:17pm

Birthday: In the summer. Right smack dab in the middle of band camp. Ew.

Favorite Bands: The Moldy Peaches and Gregory and the Hawk. Also Marina and the Diamonds and the Gorillaz.

Favorite Solo Artists: I like Melanie Martinez?? Uh,,

Song stuck in my head: I like My Bike by Kimya Dawson haha

Last movie I watched: Thor Ragnarok in theaters. The Goonies last night bc last time I saw it I was literally in shock. (Broken arm ayyyy)

Last show I watched: Stranger Things!

When did I create this blog: uhhhhhh… 2013?? I think?? I wasn’t active till 2014 tho

What do I post: currently Stranger things, memes, dogs. My art and writing sometimes.

Other blogs:I have 2-3, but I don’t use them at all. A stim blog and a blog for my ptsd, and one for my sister’s and my characters

Do I get asks: Haha no

Why did I choose this URL: my friend told me to eat my broccoli but I only had 1 so I said “my singular broccoli” and then my mom picked us up alone and she said “are your peeps here?” And I said “yes, my singular peep”

Following: 704

Followers: 198 (I had 200 u 2 know who u r)

Average hours of sleep: Between 3 and 7 (I’m in band boi)

Lucky number: 4

Instrument: Flute n Picc!!! Flute section leader and I march head Piccolo

What I’m wearing: currently a grey work top and old jeans with 2 French braids and deadpool socks, but I’m about to change into a black shirt with an 1860s lady and gentlemen on it, a thanksgiving colored skirt and flats with bows. Plus eyeliner is pretty much part of my eyelids, I never have it off.

Dream job: BABY CHAIN LEADER

Favourite Food: eggos (or any kind of bread. I love bread.)

Last book I read: The Glass Menagerie and the Crucible, about the same time, both for school and I loved them. On my own I’m not gonna lie it was either Mary Downing Hahn books or Five Nights at Freddy’ s the silver eyes

3 favorite fandoms: 1.) Blues Clues bc??? Ok I don’t pick my special interests and even tho it consists of maybe 6 people everyone is so freaking pure (@lilanimalcracker thank u for supporting me through that) 2.)No Evil before drama. (And after who am i kidding) everyone is so close knit, and text to speech Xochipilli. Enough said. 3.)STRANGER THINGS I LOVE THESE PEOPLE. Such cute art, such deep stories, such love for our babies.

I tag: @lilanimalcracker @randomyetnot @mc-awsome @magicalballerinaprincess @bewarethelightswitch @turtleoverlord725 @luckycavy117 @declandestine (if u want man) and whoever else bc I can’t think of 20!