#to wake up 100 years after and just- nobody you know is alive except their descendants

[theflyingfeeling]

Prompt no. 10 with joonas/olli? 🥺

Awww, that's a cute one! 🥰

10. I have SAD and you drag me out to do all the fun spring things to wake me up from my hibernation (2866 words)

~

Olli could tell who was behind the door by the way the doorbell chimed exactly four times; Joonas may not have been the most neurotic of Olli’s friends – it was Joel who had that credit – but he did hold an irrational loathing of odd numbers. “What if the leftover number gets lonely?” had been the answer when Olli had once asked him about it, and although Olli had been tempted to point out that mathematical figures likely have no feelings and are, thus, unable to grasp the concept of lonesomeness, he had simply smiled and nodded, as if the Porko way of thinking was logical in any aspect.

He noticed his thoughts had begun drifting again when the doorbell sounded another four times. The soft but insisting noise had him nuzzling his face against the throw pillow under his head and muffle his helpless wail on the worn fabric. Apart from having a thing for even numbers, Joonas was also known for having an exceptional hearing, scaringly so, in fact; on more than one occasion, Olli had suspected the man could hear inside his head, which was unsettling to say the least.

There was a short silence after the second sequence of the rhythmic doorbell melody, and then there were exactly four knocks that Olli could only just hear through the double door. When he cracked his eyes open enough to see his phone screen light up on the coffee table, he thanked his past self for turning the device on mute. 

He wasn’t avoiding Joonas, mind you. He was avoiding everyone.

He was avoiding Niko, whose spirits were 100% restored once the thermal spring started, and it was a rare evening when he wasn’t bombarding the group chat with invitations to get beers at every terrace in town (Olli had beer in his fridge and a balcony opening from his living room, so excuse him if he didn’t quite understand the appeal).

He was avoiding Aleksi, who always seemed to panic about the amount of sunlight each spring and was, therefore, working twice as hard as he had been during the darker times of the year (it usually passed as the spring progressed, but it made Olli feel awfully bad about himself for the time it lasted nevertheless, as all he could find the willpower to do was drinking aforementioned beer on aforementioned balcony).

He was avoiding Joel, who was actually his usual nervous self even in springtime, safe for the pitiful longing he always adopted on his face when the sunset gave Aleksi’s bright eyes an orange hue (it was none of Olli’s business of course, but it was eternally frustrating, knowing the vocalist would rather let the market square seagulls peck him alive than admit his crush to their percussionist).

He had had faith in Tommi, given the man was unlikely to let even the sudden arrival of the next ice age destabilise his daily affairs, but this spring in particular Tommi, too, had a new kind of glow to his eyes that made him view the world with such delight and confidence that even his company had been unbearable lately. 

Olli knew he was being a proper downer and he hated himself for it, but he simply couldn’t force himself to even pretend he got a kick out of being out and about, surrounded by laughing, sociable people basking in the sun as if their lives depended on it while all he wanted to do was bury himself under the blankets and instead pretend he didn’t exist until the seasons would change to be more in favour of shy and socially awkward basket cases such as himself.

He wasn’t sure why, though. His best guess was that all the increased sunlight made him feel exposed, somehow. Perhaps he was afraid that without the shield of darkness and shadows, everyone would see him for the clumsy fool he was; the sun would point its flaming finger at each and every one of his errors and mishaps, so he’d rather stay in, where nobody could call attention to his many faults (an unreasonable fear, he knew, yet it always navigated to his chest every year in April and built a nest there like a migratory bird (the common chaffinch, Olli liked to think) and laid a dozen eggs there that wouldn’t hatch and fly away until the leaves started turning yellow and red again in late August).

And yes, Olli was avoiding Joonas as well, but not because the man had embraced an insufferable habit around the time of the vernal equinox; no, Porko was Porko 365 days of the year. His only fault was, ironically and rather tragicomically, being too good a friend.

To Olli’s great frustration, Joonas saw it as his personal responsibility to try and bring Olli back to the land of the living from the comforting zone of his dusty apartment he had locked himself in last November with no intention to step outside unless he ran out of beer. Joonas’ methods, however, were eclectic and many, and more often than not Olli would eventually surrender and pop his head out, just to see what Joonas was on about. 

And the thing about Joonas Porko was that if you gave him an inch, he’d soon take a whole goddamn yard.

Not this time, though, Olli thought to himself as he pulled his blanket to his ears and snuggled deeper into his sofa. I’m perfectly fine over here, hidden from the world and that giant, blazing star you all worship so; you can stick it up your bums for all I care and laugh your stupid fake-laughs about it until you choke on your artisan ales.

His phone screen had turned off a while ago, Olli realised, and he was surprised to see how quickly Joonas had given up on him this time.

That was when Olli heard the mail slot clank, and then the echoes of the deserted stairway of the building carried the sound of the front door opening and closing. 

He managed to fight his self-control a good five, maybe ten minutes until his curiosity got the best of him and he stood up, still wrapped in the fleece comforter his mother had given him for Christmas last year, and plodded to the hallway to see if the noise had been nothing but a trick of his mind.

The inner door creaked when Olli opened it and revealed two yellow dandelions on the floor. 

Olli sighed and shook his head when he picked up the flowers, but as he looked at them, he imagined Joonas crouching by the side of the road to pick up weeds, counting them as he did; one more always became two more, because flowers would definitely understand such human sentiments as loneliness  (at least if you were to ask Joonas Porko). 

The smile Olli had so bravely tried to resist was reaching his ears by the time he was back in the living room with a phone in his hand.

~

“We’re gonna do what?” Olli frowned when Joonas led him down the road, a gloved hand holding his already freezing one. 

He was already regretting letting Joonas drag him out when he had appeared at his door in the morning.

“We’re gonna climb a tree!”

Olli looked at his friend as if he had just announced he was going to build a spacecraft and travel to Mars.

“Why?!”

“Well, why not?” Joonas shrugged, like climbing a tree was an every-day activity for him.

(And, well, knowing Porko, it might just have been.)

“Because we’re not eight years old?”

“And haven’t you missed it all these years, huh?” Joonas stopped walking and stepped to stand in front of Olli. His hand rested at the back of Olli’s neck, his fingertips playing with the tufts of hair there. “Now, wipe that silly pout off your face and relax, alright?”

Olli rolled his eyes.

“For me, Olli? Please?” Joonas batted his big eyes and tilted his head just enough to perfect his most insufferable pleading face. 

The funniest thing was that Joonas wouldn’t even have to use his puppy eyes on Olli; “for me?” did the trick just as fine. 

(Because for himself, Olli could barely manage to open the fridge and cook himself a meal some days, but for Joonas? Oh, for him, Olli would make the whole world from scratch.)

Olli instantly missed the warmth of Joonas’ hand when they arrived at a tall oak tree and Joonas let go of him to grab one of the lowest branches. To Olli it didn’t look nearly thick enough to carry the weight of a grown man, but Olli was in the firm belief that Joonas would learn the best from his own mistakes.

Indeed, the branch let out a questionable creak when Joonas leaned on it, after which the man abandoned the idea and tried another, a notably steadier one on the other side of the trunk and hurled himself on it before extending his hand towards Olli. 

Olli was only a little nervous when the branch creaked ominously as he sat next to Joonas, but his worries were replaced with peace and birdsong when Joonas’ hand wrapped around his waist and his nose touched Olli’s temple. He leaned against the touch and closed his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Not sure this counts as climbing a tree, though.” Olli said, dangling his feet barely half a metre above the ground.

Joonas’ breath felt warm when he chuckled against Olli’s cheek.

“Santeri would kill us if we showed up at the tour bus in June with plaster casts.”

Olli agreed, although the scent of Joonas next to him had erased all the vocabulary to voice his opinion off his already scattered brain.

~

Olli was quite satisfied with himself for having survived One Spring Activity™ and contently thought it would be enough to convince himself and others that he was, against all odds, a functionable human being. Joonas, of course, begged to differ, as Olli was soon to find out when his oldest friend appeared behind his door again the next day.

“But it’s raining!” Olli complained and, for good measure, pointed out his window in case Joonas had somehow missed the downpour on his way to Olli’s apartment. “What could you possibly do in a weather like this, other than lie in bed watching films?” he asked and wistfully glanced at his TV, currently paused halfway through The Two Towers.

“You’re gonna help me plant my herbs.”

Olli smiled but shook his head.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are,” Joonas nodded insistently, “Joel would come too, but he’s busy this time. It’s our annual tradition, actually.”

“Sure he is,” Olli muttered, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not imagine Joel getting his fingertips black unless it was nail polish. 

Still, sooner than Olli registered, he found himself filling a brick red claypot with soil and some smelly stuff Joonas said was fertiliser. 

“This will be basil,” Joonas explained as he worked on his own pot. “What shall we name him?”

Olli blinked, but seeing how Joonas went on with his task without dropping a beat, it appeared he was dead serious about giving a seed plant a name.

“But it’s…a basil,” Olli pointed out nevertheless, although he knew it would be in vain.

“Yes, and he should have a name, so that I’ll know who I’m directing my praise and encouragement to,” Joonas elaborated patiently. 

Olli was horrified to find himself thinking that it almost made sense.

“Can’t you just name it…Basil.”

“Basil the Basil?” Joonas looked at him unimpressed.

“It’s a name,” Olli assured him and hoped Joonas wouldn’t take out his phone and check if it actually was, for Olli himself actually wasn’t half as certain as he may have sounded.

“Alright,” Joonas shrugged to his relief, “but I’ll have you know that among friends he’s called Olli.” 

The look of triumph on Joonas’ face was equal amounts  endearing and annoying, and for a second Olli considered throwing the lump of soil in his hand at it.

“Then I guess it’s only reasonable we name the tarragon after Joel.”

To hell with the singing of the blackbird; Joonas’ hearty laughter was much more beautiful to Olli than any sound of the spring.

~

Although they had had fun sitting on an old oak watching the brimstones fly by and naming Joonas’ unborn herbs after all their mutual friends, Olli was all but ready to retreat to his bedroom for the rest of the spring and maybe come back out to join the others at Niko’s summer cottage for midnight sauna and beers. Yet, when the doorbell rang four times once more the next day, Olli did not stop his feet from walking to the door and greeting Joonas. He was wearing a dandelion behind his ear and offered Olli the one in his hand. 

“Come,” he said and grabbed Olli’s hand, “today I’ve got something special to show you.”

Olli did not know where Joonas was taking him, walking them down narrow alleyways Olli would have avoided at all cost had it not been full daylight and Joonas’ hand in his, until they arrived at the gate of a small park Olli vaguely remembered having biked past a couple of times but never really paid much attention to before.

As if to check everything was alright, Joonas glanced at Olli and squeezed his hand before stepping in through the gate and leading him ahead with determination in his step. It was an elegant and well kept park from what Olli could tell, with colour-coordinated plantings and even a small fountain, which was why Olli was surprised the only people they saw were an elderly man resting on a bench and a young woman walking her spaniel. 

Somewhere in the middle of the park there was a small log cabin. Olli’s eyes lit up when he noticed the menu hanging on the wall next to its front door – Joonas’ unexpected appearance in the morning had interrupted his intentions to get breakfast – but then he saw the sign on the door that read SORRY WE’RE CLOSED and pursed his lips that would not get to wrap around a BLT or a brownie after all.

After his disappointment had passed, he was about to ask where in the world was Joonas taking him if not for a brunch at this secluded little café that seemed quite special indeed, but then he was being pulled behind the cottage, and suddenly he understood. 

At what seemed to be the backyard of the café, they were soon standing on a small pathway shaded by trees not taller than two metres, growing on both sides of the trail, their branches reaching over the gravel like an arch. When Olli looked up, instead of the blue sky he saw small, pink flowers blooming among green leaves, slightly smaller than what Olli had seen in the pictures he browsed whenever he daydreamed about a trip to Japan, and perhaps they were a little stunted as well, but he was still speechless and could only gawk at sight above them.

“They’re young trees, so the blossom isn’t very strong yet,” Joonas said quietly (to not hurt the flower’s feelings, Olli assumed). 

Olli heard his friend inhale and exhale deeply before he continued.

“But I couldn’t wait for any longer,” Joonas turned to look at Olli. “I wanted for you to see them.”

Joonas’ thumb rubbed the back of Olli’s palm, and Olli used it to ground himself enough to speak, despite his lungs being short of breath and his mind empty of coherent thoughts at Joonas’ words.

“You did?” He wished he’d have something more intelligent to offer to the conversation, but the way Joonas’ blue eyes reflected the colour of the flowers was too mesmerising for him to keep his head clear.

Joonas smiled and squeezed Olli’s hand so hard it almost hurt. “I thought it could…äh, nevermind.” Joonas laughed briefly and looked down at the gravel beneath their feet. A single pink petal fell on his blond curls.

“No, tell me,” Olli insisted and stepped closer, not realising what he had done until Joonas looked up again and touched Olli’s nose with his.

“I thought it could make you see how beautiful spring can be. If you stop and look,” Joonas said. The blue in his eyes had turned hazy.

“I never doubted it,” Olli told him. 

“Then what is it?” Joonas but whispered as he pulled Olli closer and looked at him in a way that had Olli believe he wanted to hear about all his sorrows. 

“Rather I…doubt myself, or something,” Olli chuckled but held his breath when Joonas’ fingertips touched his cheek.

Joonas’ smile was affectionate and warm, not sardonic or dismissive like Olli had always feared. 

“Why would you?” Joonas’ lips were almost touching Olli’s now. “You’re way more beautiful than the cherry blossoms and the spring itself anyway.”

It wasn’t easy for Olli to place confidence in Joonas’ words, but the way his lips moved against his own sure helped with the matter.

[shimmershae]

So.  I have some more thoughts.  Shocking?  Yeah, I know, lol.

Let’s see if I can figure out how to purge what’s inside of my overactive brain and have it make some semblance of sense, shall we?  

Hmm.  

Where to start, where to start?  

Okay.  So I think it’s safe to say that the flashbacks pretty quickly establish that Daryl has essentially been set adrift.  He’s been cast back, in some ways by his own choosing, into a solitary searching life that speaks to his past.  He has no anchor anymore, no touching stone--whether that be Rick, who’s presumed dead, or Carol, who’s chosen by default to leave him behind and try to make a new family in Ezekiel and Henry.  

That’s important.  Because until this season?  Until he really matured and assumed, grudgingly or otherwise, the mantle of leadership of the communities?  

Daryl was a follower.  He took his cues from other stronger personalities.  Other people more quick to voice and own their opinions, right or wrong.  Like Rick.  And Merle before him.  

That’s not to say Daryl hasn’t had anything of value to say or add to the communities or to his relationships.  He has and he did.  Remember back at the Prison how Carol told him he was going to have to live with the love?  Daryl was just beginning to find his voice, so to speak.  He was emerging, even if they were only baby steps at first, from other seemingly more formidable shadows, and learning even then how to be more of a leader that people looked up to even if he was still content to be a follower.  

Being a follower was what he was comfortable with and I’m making some assumptions here, but I’d wager that in his abusive past with his old man, in that household first with Merle then on his own, being a follower and sticking to the safety of the periphery is probably what kept him alive.  Being a follower minimized conflict then, I’m sure.  Being a follower when he met up with and eventually connected with Rick and the rest of Team Family was probably the safest way for him to make emotional connections.  

I’m rambling.  I know it and I’m sorry.  It’s what I do.  Ramble, lol.  

Here.  I’m going to place the rest of this underneath a cut because I got more winding words than I have wind and most of ya’ll have patience.  

With Rick gone, with Carol off trying her damndest to live a fairy tale, Daryl floundered.  For all intents and purposes, he was left without any direction, nobody to take his cues from emotionally or otherwise.  

I mean, he literally made ever-widening circles searching for Rick, didn’t he?  Circles have no end point.  They have no real destination.  Not really.  Daryl essentially lived in a spin cycle of pain and regret and inability to really and truly connect with anybody during those years spent searching for Rick--especially since the person he arguably felt closest to and most comfortable with, Carol, basically decided those past connections Daryl was so desperate to find again were too painful for her and attempted to move on.  

He wasn’t emotionally equipped to or stable enough (perhaps still internally dealing with his anger and angst over his torture and imprisonment by Negan at that point in time) to put in the hard work to reestablish those fraying bonds on his own and the man basically lost the plot.  His world narrowed down to this latest search.  This search for a body.  For closure.  For a new purpose perhaps?  

And you know, the man had to be tired.  In some way or another?  He’s probably been searching his entire life.  It’s kind of what followers do.  They look for meaning outside themselves because they don’t feel like they’re enough.  

So then Dog, in the form of this happy, accepting, affectionate puppy appears out of nowhere.  He’s a welcome distraction and knowing Daryl’s propensity to try to reunite the lost with those they love, he started a new little search.  

That led him to Leah. 

Leah, who was alone.  Like him.  Leah, who knew how to survive.  Like him.  Leah, who was stuck in a place of grief.  Like him.  

Leah, who--and I don’t really feel like I’m going out on too far or precarious limb here considering how many parallels they literally slapped us in the face with during this episode--reminded him of someone he felt he couldn’t have, not even her friendship anymore because by her choosing to ‘be there’ for Ezekiel and Henry and the Kingdom she was always leaving Daryl behind and that’s a pattern we’ve all long suspected has really caused hurt for Daryl even if he’s long ‘accepted’ and dealt with it with stoicism.  

Boy, they really blew the lid off that issue didn’t they?  Oh, it was done rather quietly and in a surprisingly controlled manner, but the hurt it caused?  The tears and emotion it elicited was brought about with an almost surgical precision that stunned Carol, but I digress.  

My point is?  Daryl?  Innate follower that he is?  Daryl had grown accustomed to the human connection he found with Team Family.  He was never 100% comfortable with it but he missed it.  He craved it.  And Rick?  Well, deep down Daryl knew the likelihood of finding his ‘brother’ was minimal.  And with Carol pulling away and putting more and more distance between them--how deep and wide was that river, ya’ll, before the episode was done? when it started off looking like a small trickle of a stream?  how wide was that chasm these two idiots in painfully unspoken love allowed to be formed between them?--essentially the two closest people to him were lost to him, leaving him lost.  

So he stumbles upon this woman who is very reminiscent of people that he’s known.  He’s figured out, even though he keeps trying to buck the trend, that you really can’t make it alone in the world anymore.  And when she shows him some small measure of trust by letting him go?  That part of him that didn’t want to be alone kept drifting back into her sphere.  

Now I’m not going to go so far as saying Daryl fell in love with this Leah.  Because, shipping biases aside?  I really don’t feel like he did.  

Daryl found solace with Leah.  

Companionship.  

Remember another time when Daryl was lost?  When he felt he had failed another member of his family? Lost what he thought was the last of his family?  How alone he was at a crossroads when Joe’s group of Claimers came along?  

I’m not equating Leah with the Claimers in any other way except saying Daryl was in a similar headspace when he met her, okay?  Before anybody goes off on me.  I’m just saying that Leah?  She represented what Daryl felt was his one chance NOT TO BE ALONE.  

Daryl’s emotionally stunted, ya’ll. He’s made great strides, but trauma always seems to regress him.  Thankfully, it seems to regress him less and less as he really and truly matures, but it still has a habit of reverting him back to the Daryl we first met.  The Daryl we can easily see growing up in Merle’s shadow. 

When he threw that damn fish at her door, I literally laughed for ten straight minutes because that was funny as hell.  But honestly?  The more I thought about it, the more it dwelled in my mind?  The sadder it actually made me because here’s a grown man essentially trying to connect with another human being on an adolescent level.  

So much of what we were shown in this episode really just reinforced what I’d already suspected to be true--Daryl Dixon just doesn’t ‘get’ the basics of interpersonal relationships.  At least those that could be perceived as romantic.  For all that Carol mused it was like he had become a man back in Atlanta, during Consumed and their search for Beth?  That man is still very much trying to fumble his way out of the starting gate so far as pursuing a woman in any form or fashion.

This is just my opinion and we all know what they say about those, lol, but Daryl has longed for an even deeper connection with Carol since the Prison.  Maybe even before that. I think at the Farm his eyes were opened to her and he started trying to be a better person to match what he perceived as her goodness.  Before he even knew she wanted one, he was trying to be a man of honor.  Then stuff and thangs happened and shit, like Daryl once told Abe, just never settled.  Carol drifted out of Daryl’s reach because he wasn’t equipped with the emotional tools to really go after what he wanted--her in a deeper, different capacity than he’d ever wanted or asked for before--and shit, ya’ll.  If loneliness is a choice then Daryl Dixon was sick and damn tired of it.  

Do I think there’s even really a choice between Leah and Carol in Daryl’s mind though?  A true choice were he to absolutely, 100% realize and know that Carol’s heart was earmarked for him from the very beginning and that she’s suffering from the same delusions that she’s not good enough or deserving of him?  

Absolutely not.  

Leah knew that even if Daryl never divulged any specifics about Carol.  She knew the answer to her ultimatum before she even made it.  

And that ultimatum, ya’ll. 

Maybe it’s weird, but it put me in mind of when Merle pressed Daryl to make a choice between him and Team Family.  

Merle was blood family but like Carol and others said, he wasn’t good for Daryl.  

Leah might have offered Daryl some solace from his loneliness but ultimately staying isolated with her and not reconnecting with those he identifies as family is just as damaging as Daryl choosing to follow in Merle’s wake again.  Similarly to that situation, Daryl was clearly torn as soon as the words were out of her mouth.  

Between loyalty to family and unspoken love.  

In case there’s any confusion here, the unspoken love I’m talking about is his love for Carol.  He felt something for her back at that Prison.  Fight me.  He knew she’d be hurt by him going back with Merle, but obligation and family loyalty led him to make the decision all the same.  

Still. He knew she’d understand.  And she did, even if his choice hurt her.  

My thought is that this time?  At least initially?  Daryl didn’t completely separate his loyalty to family (searching for Rick) and his unspoken love (for Carol) when he made his decision.  They’re hopelessly entwined because Carol is a little bit of everything to Daryl--friend, family, the woman he loves and has been halfway in love with for so many years.  Initially, he chose the hope that both would come back to him if he just kept searching.  Because searching’s what he does.  From Sophia to Connie, he’s always searched in the hope of bringing the lost back to those that love them.  He’s always searched because nobody searched for him.  

Daryl is the ultimate lost boy who grew to be a man and still feels like he hasn’t been found.  

But how can he be found if the one person he wants to find him keeps running away?  

Daryl didn’t choose Leah.  

Not from his heart.  

Daryl turned back to Leah because he felt Carol slipping away to where he couldn’t follow her.  

If it can even be argued that Daryl chose Leah, it was by default.  Of course, he feels guilty.  Daryl wouldn’t be Daryl without guilt.  He wouldn’t be Carol’s man of honor.  

And he is Carol’s man.  

She may not be in the place to see it--YET--but she’s getting there.  She’s fighting hard against her natural inclination to run.  She’s trying.  She knows what she wants, even if she doesn’t believe she has the hope of getting it.  

Daryl knows what he wants, too.  He knows, once and for all, where he belongs.  He’s stopped searching.  He knows she’s right there.  There’s no more circles.  There’s just a final destination if he can convince the love of his fucking life to stop running from what they both want.  

He may have left that note for Leah, but you can’t convince this viewer that he didn’t write those words for Carol.  

And that’s all I got to say about that.  

For now anyway.  

Omigosh, lovelies.  

So sorry for the emotional word vomit but thank you so much for indulging me even if I did lose my original point somewhere up there, lol.    

[mieczyhale]

you know what i could go for?? [late night ramble journey ahead // i did not re-read this so who knows!!]

an in-depth fic about klaus’s ten months in vietnam.. but with ben there. klaus getting pants and a gun shoved at him and ben is just as confused and freaked out. klaus finding out where they are, or ben finding out and telling him. klaus meeting dave and ben is sitting next to him, side eyeing dave because who is this soldier and why did he come all the way from the back of the bus to introduce himself. ben sees it / can tell when klaus shoves the briefcase under their seat right after and ben’s just like ‘are you fucking kidding me??’ and of course klaus would make stupid decisions because of an attractive man with a sweet smile. so he’s exasperated but also concerned because it’s 1968 and people like klaus are treated even worse now than they are in 2019, way worse, and all of these men are probably straight - dave included. and if any of them are gay they’re not gonna say anything let alone act on it. it wouldn’t be worth it. klaus could get himself hurt or killed just for being himself, if he acts too.. well.. himself after that he stays by klaus’s side more than he did in their own time, which is really saying something. offers advice and wisdom like he always has. he warns him about snipers and mines and bullets and in turn klaus warns his squad. ben can’t lie - it feels pretty fucking good to be responsible for saving lives without having to take any. he still wishes klaus would just try the briefcase, he has it, but at some point he stops pushing. because he does think klaus needs to go back and soon but everytime he brings it up klaus gets defensive and angry - he can do what he wants. he has friends here now. he has a family that actually likes him. that actually cares. he’s considered useful and important and he’s on drugs!! he can get high and none of them think any less of him for it. why can’t ben see that maybe this is where he belongs?? maybe the middle of the fucking vietnam war is where he fits?? and it’s not like he has anyone or anything back home. the only thing he could have missed is ben and ben’s with him in 1968 so there’s literally nothing. and ben wants to yell back, he wants to argue that there’s plenty for klaus to go back to, but he’s realizing that klaus.. might be right. and that hurts. and of course pisses ben off but it hurts because nobody should have to travel back in time and fight in a pointless war to find basic respect, especially not klaus. klaus who has been through enough - who deserves good things more than anyone ben knows. so after that conversation he doesn’t bring it up anymore. he looks at it sometimes, and thinks about their siblings, how they just gained their missing brother only to lose another, how are they doing? have they noticed klaus is missing yet? did they see the motel room?? did they know that all of that blood was klaus’s?? (shh patch didn’t die, hazel and cha cha escaped by knocking her out but she lives because i said so. diego shows up and finds her, freaks out at first but is relieved that she’s fine. he manages to get her to wake up and she tells him that klaus was there. he was hurt, very very hurt, but he got away. she doesn’t know where he went, he crawled through the vent, and he’s gone, diego. you need to find him - he needs a hospital. ahem anyway) ben thinks on these things and it never takes him long to get disgusted looking at it because it contains, in a way, their family. and he thinks he knows the answers. he gets to a point where he decides he wouldn’t be upset if they never had to see those jackasses again. his loyalties lie with klaus, after 13 years together there’s no way they wouldnt be. and if doing what’s best for klaus, doing what makes klaus happy, is staying right where they’ve found themselves than he can deal with it. that’s where he ends up anyway but its definitely not a quick or easy point to reach. he’s there for every battle, all the days of marching, watching klaus kill people and knowing how badly it’s affecting his brother and yet he doesn’t stop. he doesn’t pull back without orders, doesn’t put his gun down until he knows his squad is safe. and that fierceness grows as he gets closer to dave. ben doesn’t know what to think of dave at first, probably doesn’t trust him - knowing every man klaus has ever found attractive or had a “relationship” with before - but ben literally watches this - admittedly handsome - soldier boy fall in love with klaus, and klaus with him. ben witnesses the disco. the private conversation - from a distance, he’s doesn’t feel quite right listening in and he can still see them. the way they look at each other. how gently dave approaches every moment with klaus - the hand on his cheek, their first kiss (which he WILL tease klaus about later) when they head back to the hotel that was booked for all the guys for r&r, ben decides to wander saigon instead because he’s pretty sure he knows where things are going to go considering klaus and dave are roommates (oh my god they were roommates) by the time he gets back they’re both passed out (in the same bed. as he expected) from that day forward klaus is happy, genuinely happy in a way ben can’t remember him ever being, and dave has of course gained ben’s full approval (especially when klaus tells dave about the ghosts and dave believes him. even turns to where klaus is pointing at ben and tells ben that he’s happy that klaus has at least one good sibling, that he’s happy to know ben is there. when dave knows ben is there he always greets him. it’s not anything that grand really but it means a lot to ben. and when klaus finally tells him about the time travel, a little later on, dave believes him then too. said it made sense because he always thought there was no way someone as incredible as klaus could’ve come from the same place as he himself - let alone the same time. it never seemed to.. fit) SO ben is a fan. and he stays by both their sides - keeping them alive as best he can - along with a few other ghosts who are coherent, previous members of the 173rd, who pass things on to ben when klaus is too high. they talk, as long as no one but dave is around - dave who adapts pretty easily to klaus holding a whole conversation with someone he can’t see or hear. and ben.. stays ben. the only thing being in the war really changes is the way he views their siblings and he now has one other live person that he can “talk” to. eventually, almost 11 months in, they find out they’re getting sent to the frontlines. even closer to the danger. and klaus has a bad feeling. this is when ben brings up the briefcase again, hesitantly, and before klaus goes off reminds him that they could take dave with them. if he wanted to go. klaus can return to their time, to relative safety, and still have dave. it’s no longer a ‘one or the other’ situation. all they have to do is get dave to say ‘yes’. he says it very quickly of course (if you think i’d let dave die you’re out of your goddamn mind) he can be tough and feral when he needs to be, when pushed if klaus is in danger but he isn’t a killer, he doesn’t want to be a killer, he wants out. but he also wants a life with klaus and while they talked about going back to the states in.. well.. dave’s time and getting a little house and all that - doing that in 2019 sounds much better. especially after the night klaus told him softly about how things were different for lgbtq+ people, how they could hold hands and be as out as they wanted. get married. adopt. all things dave spent his whole life believing he’d never be allowed to have. so they do it - right then. klaus pulls out the briefcase and they gather the few things they wanted to keep and in a bright light they’re gone. (maybe they said something, or goodbye, to each squadmate before leaving. maybe they didnt and it hurt but if they waited around to get through everyone it would be too late to run) AND OH!! they take the ghost soldiers with them / the ghost soldiers find them in 2019, because i’m a slut for klaus having good ghosts, friend ghosts, who - even if they died horribly, are still the same person they were alive. and maybe sometimes they look like their deaths and sometimes they can look normal - ben teaching the soldiers how to be ghosts?? including how to appear as you were; whole, no holes or blood or missing limbs or chunks of head blown off. they’re all grateful and so is klaus. tho listen: he still gets high because i fucking said so - however, at least until the world is saved, he sticks to cigarettes and - for sleeping purposes - pot, dave does as well. because dave isnt a square. maybe he sticks to that path afterwards. maybe not. i for one support everything except 100% sobriety 100% of the time in this instance  anyway: later on when klaus can make ben corporeal for any amount of time he wants ben tells their siblings about the real life romantic drama he got to watch close up, from their first meeting all the way to the return to 2019. he also mentions a lot of things about the war, the sights and sounds of senseless murder - something their brother and his boyfriend were forced to take part in - the wounds they had to deal with, heal through. klaus and dave definitely have some scars. the fear. and that’s after telling them about hazel and cha cha and the almost two days they had klaus and nobody noticed. (maybe klaus lets his siblings meet the other soldiers, maybe not. maybe he lets them wander the mansion corporeal to scare the shit out of people. who knows) ben wants to make their siblings feel bad. he wants them to hurt and feel guilty. it’s the very least they deserve he thinks, when it’s all said and done. he hasn’t been able to say anything to them for 13 years and he’s got a lot of things built up - but gotta say, the last year (five-ish days?? starting at ep.1) have really taken the whole goddamn cake. klaus is embarrassed and shocked and actually quite touched that little benny is really going feral for the first time - though he keeps trying to tell him none of it is a big deal. he doesnt like confrontation. dave however is extremely pleased by the whole thing. klaus kept saying he and ben would get along if they ever got to meet and he was right. ben had, with a serious face, dubbed them the klaus hargreeves love & protection squad (bc dave doesnt know what the fuck even a ‘meem’ is yet) and that’s that. they make up a handshake and everything. klaus has never felt so loved. 

aaand eventually klaus and dave and ben (because of course he’s invited) do get that little house away from the city - someplace with few to no ghosts. someplace they can make their home. they make sure it has a room they can make up for ben even though he doesnt sleep (he still deserves his own space. a place to get away from them if he wants. somewhere to put his books and such. ben doesnt get emotional about that at all. absolutely not.) and they get pets and klaus gardens and ben reads books about gardening so he can help and dave works (mechanic is always a good time. or bookstore owner!! coffee shop?? listen. those may or may not be my favorite aus) and maybe the siblings get to visit and maybe they mend things and bond or whatever idk THE POINT IS:: Ben is a good brother and i think the idea of him going through vietnam with klaus is interesting and if someone with more ideas/thoughts ever wrote this i would be on that like cheese on broccoli honestly. THE SECOND POINT IS:: Klaus and Dave deserve to be happy and have the life they dreamed about together and if they shared their home with anyone it would be the Bentacles SO… OKAY…  that definitely did it’s own thing but i really really genuinely love thinking about what those months would have been like with ben there - what he would have thought or said or done about things yknow?? and how that would have affected klaus/changed things. i didnt give a lot of examples in this because my brain didn’t want to stay on track (as if it ever does) but it’s 1:30 in the morning and im so fucking tired lsdfd;lk if you actually read this.. first of all: im sorry. second of all: thank you. and literally if anyone ever wrote something about this topic (not like.. this post specifically, just the ben in vietnam plot) and nobody important dies i’ll love you and give you a lil smooch on the noggin  s m ooch. smooches. you know who likes smooches?? klaus. you know who deserves smooches?? klaus. you know who’s getting smooches?? THAT’S RIGHT. KLAUS. because dave has a degree in giving them and he can’t let that education go to waste amiright??

this post.. may or may not have been brought to you by wine as well.. 

ope

[lxvesickreality]

mistakes 3/4

Request: same request from first one

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: angst, heavy swearing, again angst because this is nothing but angst except for the tiniest bit of fluff near the end

Word Count: 2777

Add on: i have been inactive lately due to lack of inspiration so hopefully i can regain it with the tips given to me by @queenofthehairharrington​ << go check out those imagines! also, the inspiration that has been hitting a bit recently hasn’t included the requests so i may take a break from them and come back to the later. thanks for all the support and 200 followers<3

gif is NOT mine, full credit to owners

8 hours, 17 minutes, 47 seconds

That’s how long the team had left to find his missing wife. With the video sent out just a few hours ago, it’d felt like an eternity to Steve. His wife was gone, somewhere with a death threat stuck on her back and there was no clue leading the way to her location. He couldn’t stop picturing the look on Y/N’s face when her eyes finally made their way to the camera. She was terrified, absolutely frightened and there was no nope shining in her e/c eyes that he loved so much. It was the first thing he fell in love with which sounds incredibly cheesy but the moment he looked into them, he saw the curiosity that was up in flames. He told her before, “Curiosity killed the cat,” but she laughed at him and said, “But satisfaction brought it back,”. In the beginning for them, it was full of honesty, loyalty, passion, and her curiosity, of course. Then it turned to hell all because of him and his stupid mistakes.

“We’re going to find her, Steve. Don’t give up,” Steve was sat outside on the grass looking out into the lake by his home, watching the ducks being fed by Sam and the others out in the middle of the lake. It was beautiful at dawn with the sun rising from just over at the other end of the lake. He knew by sitting here he was just losing time but he had to take a breather.

Finally, his blue eyes that had a hint of green reached up to stare at his best friend, sadness pooling in his eyes, “How do you know that, Bucky? We’ve got 8 hours. We’ve already lost so much time.” his voice cracked, new tears setting in. 

“Because I just know. C’mon, get up,” his best friend repeatedly shook his head, refusing to get up from his spot. He wasn’t ready to head back inside to face the team who still gave them expressions of disappointment. He would do that to himself as well, he cheated and he deserved everything he got from them. He didn’t treat his woman right. 1940′s Steve would be severely displeased with the modern Steve. He promised his wife he wouldn’t hurt her, he’d protect her at all costs even if it meant the cost was his life and he downright failed 100%. If they get her, he doubted she will want to be with him especially with his luck nowadays. 

“I made a huge mistake, Buck, a fucking huge one,” Bucky wasn’t used to Steve using this vulgar language and he usually was the one to tell everyone to stop but his friend was hurt and broken. Steve had stopped a few inches from where Bucky was and he faced his best friend, the tears falling down bit by bit that held the intense sadness forming in his heart. He really has given up, Bucky thought. “I don’t even think she’ll come back to me after all of this, back to our home we just finished building a few months ago. Bucky, why am I such a big idiot? I don’t know what was running through my mind. I mean I fought against Sharon the first few times she did it but the last time...I caved.”

“Steve,” Bucky laid a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. “you wanna know what Y/N told Tony and Natasha? She said it’d take time but with that given time, she’ll learn to forgive you. She loves you, she married you, Steve. She’ll come around and we will find her. Natasha thinks she has a lead so come on. Dry up those big, fat tears and go talk to her. One step closer.” 

~

“So we know where she is?” Steve questioned as him and Bucky arrive to the conference room the team was in minus Sam and Wanda. 

Natasha shook her head,”Not exactly, but I have an idea. Tony, bring up the video and pause it when he shows the timer.” Tony nodded and almost immediately had the video up at the right spot. “See those designs on the door handle? They’re made specially in Alaska and only Alaska. We’ve got it narrowed down to very few cities but even then, we still have to find the exact place.” 

“I know where that is at.” Wanda reveals. Steve felt a rush of relief slither its way down his body and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, we got you, Y/N.

“Lets go then, what are we waiting for?”

“There isn’t an entrance, Steve. They somehow zap themselves in and out of the building and it’s underground.” 

Steve felt the walls crumble around him and the small sliver of hope he was just given was ripped away just as quick it was given to him. Reality seemed so far away from him all of a sudden, Bucky’s voice was like an echo and Steve’s heart felt like it was going to burst out if it got any faster. There was no more hope. They were at 7 hours already and she was all the way in Alaska plus Bruce would most likely have to build something to get inside of this building which could take days. He may not even have the equipment for it. It was over, he’d lost his wife for good and in just a few hours, he will be a widow. She was going to dead. 

Steve forced his way through the part of the team behind him, running out of the conference room with the heaviest heart that hung as low as the moon and it was turned to blue, color of the sadness and devastation he felt. It was over. She was gone. He could vaguely hear his best friend behind him, yelling and begging for him to stop what he was doing but honestly, Steve didn’t even know what he was doing. He couldn’t stop running or that was until Pepper made an appearance and Steve tripped. With the loud bang of him hitting his head off the wall echoing, it went dark for him and he was pulled into a dream.

~

Today was the day. The wedding day. Steve had waited 3 years to marry this woman and he couldn’t be happier to do so. He met her on the day of the battle against Loki and he’d saved her from getting killed when she ran out into the road to help him. Steve took one glance at her e/c eyes that sparkled as the sun beamed down on the both of them and he knew he was going to marry this brave woman who tried to save someone she didn’t know. Fury must’ve thought something similar and decided to have her join S.H.I.E.L.D. after witnessing the fight she did. 

To say Steve was nervous was an understatement, he was anxious and tense as he wanted the wedding to go well without an interference of work. Fury promised there was no upcoming missions nor was there nobody trying to take over the world. The wedding day was spontaneous, they’d had the whole wedding details planned out before picking a day because of the line of work they both had so when there was an available day for everyone, Steve set it all up where the love of his life chose. A fall wedding, in the woods where they found a clearing close to their favorite place; the waterfall where the first ‘i love you’ was exchanged, the first kiss, and their first intimate time. 

The ceremony was beautiful, she was beautiful. The dress was snug and tight at her breasts and torso until it got to her waist where it flowed nicely to the ground and the trail was a few feet long covered in a white lace design. The back was open where he could feel her soft skin when he dipped her to kiss her dark shade of pink stained lips but his favorite part was the little tiara she wore to keep the train in place that was layered with sapphire stones. She was his queen and he was her king now. 

“I love you, Steven Grant Rogers.”

“I love you too, Y/N M/N Rogers.” 

~

5 hours, 54 minutes, 27 seconds

“Bruce, I think he’s waking up! Steve? Rogers?” Steve’s eyes fluttered open shining his bright blue eyes that held the hint of green in them but was already beginning to hold tears in. His head throbbed in pain as the memory of him hitting his head came rushing back quickly. 

“Hey, bud, you had all of us worried there for a moment.” Bucky said, coming into view from behind Natasha.

Blinking rapidly, he shot up from the plain white bed, “How long was I out for? How much time do we have left?” 

“Steve, that’s not important right now. The rest of the team is working on it and you need to rest. You have a minor concussion that needs to be nursed a like a raging hangover.”

“How long, Bucky?” 

“5 hours and 48 minutes.” said his best friend sulking in defeat. “But you need to relax, Steve.”

“Relax? RELAX? Bucky, my fucking wife is out there probably beaten to a fucking bloody ass pulp and barely hanging on. I am not going to lay down and ‘nurse’ a fucking minor concussion that will not affect my help in this. My wife will come out alive, Bucky. Now, help me go help Bruce. We have to find a way into there.”

“We already found a way.”

Steve’s eyes shot to his best friend but the appearance of guilt that had a mix of satisfaction stopped the hope that was trying to worm its way to his heart. He’d done something stupid. “What did you do, Buck?”

“I told H.Y.D.R.A. I’d come back if they gave us Y/N. They said they’d do it as long as you don’t fight back.” 

“YOU WHAT?” 

The two boys continued to fight and bicker about Bucky’s well being, both of them oblivious to Natasha and Tony running in there yelling something at them they weren’t able to comprehend. Steve was beyond furious, no word can describe the anger he had. Giving himself to H.Y.D.R.A? Was he stupid? That was a stupid question to ask because clearly he was. 

“You lost all hope to find your wife, Steve. We all did!”

Steve nostrils flared with anger, “And you think I don’t know that? I’ve already lost her. How am I supposed to cope with the loss of you too?” Bucky let his eyes focus on the floor instead of looking into his best friends eyes. He was incredibly angry with him but he didn’t care. His wife mattered a lot to everyone and he wasn’t going to stand by and act like he couldn’t do anything to help it. H.Y.D.R.A. has wanted him from the beginning, he can endure a few more years with them if it meant Steve got his happiness back. “I can’t believe you did this, Buck,” 

“I’d do anything for my best friend, Steve. Even if it meant enduring just a little bit more pain.” 

“They’re here,” Natasha announced, catching the boys’ attention and Steve’s facial expression went blank. Nobody could tell what he was thinking or feeling, it just seemed like he was empty with no feelings at all and they didn’t know what was worse. Not knowing what he was going to do or knowing what he was going to do. He had a plan, Natasha could see that and so could everyone else as they stepped out of the compound with hard glares towards H.Y.D.R.A. who arrived not 5 minutes earlier. 

The team stood in front of the many men they brought, heavy hearts with the information of Bucky being traded off with Y/N. They knew Y/N would beat all of them if she found out Bucky was doing this and she’ll find out soon enough. Will it be before he’s taken away or after? That was a popular question.

“So,” a leader stepped forward with a proud smirk on his face. “The Winter Soldier has finally stepped forward, he’s not a coward. That’s nice to know.” 

“Never was one, just didn’t want to be around you. You tortured me-”

“Yet, you want to come back in exchange for your best friends girl. How brave and heroic. Well, Mr. Barnes, things have changed. We don’t want you. You’ve been too compromised. It’s been too long.”

The dreaded feeling sunk deep into Steve’s skin, soaking in every ounce of hope he had once again. Hope just wasn’t for him anymore. His wife was his hope and she isn’t here. His heart clenched and he willed himself to not cry, not to show weakness towards them because they would kill her as a game to go against him. Instead, he clenched his hands into fists and let the hope be taken over by anger. He was done. 

“I’m done. I’m so fucking done with you men toying with others. That’s my wife you have and if you don’t give her back, I will wipe out every fucking person in every H.Y.D.R.A. base. So help me god, I will tear everyone limb from limb!” Steve let himself threaten these men not caring about the language he has continued to use the last few days. The leader didn’t have to say it, he was terrified of the former soldier and the way he looked at him made his blood run cold. Steve was serious. “Have her come home.” 

The leader turned his torso to look at another man, nodding his head in confirmation of something and spun back around. He couldn’t show fear in front of his men but he didn’t want to lose everything. “We want you to come join us in exchange for-”

“Done. I’ll do it. Just bring her fucking home.” 

“Steve!” there was many protests against his decision, none of them wanting to lose Steve Rogers. 

“Bring her out, boys.” 

Then there she was. 

Bruised and beaten up. Clear broken bones in several places and cuts that were still profusely bleeding but the girl’s corner of her lips lifted up in a relieved smile upon seeing her husband. Steve didn’t hesitate to run towards her, past the men of H.Y.D.R.A. and through the line of cars and helicopter they brought Y/N on to get to his wife. Immediately, his arms wrapped around her in an embrace and the tears suddenly started to flow down but Steve didn’t care, his girl was here and alive. Bruised and beaten up, she still was the most beautiful woman in his entire life. He whispered in her ear ‘I love you’ over and over until she said it back with the same amount of love in her voice. He pulled back only to catch her lips in his. 

“Okay, lovebirds, we need to get going. Rogers, let’s go. Say your goodbye and let’s go.” 

“What?” her voice was hoarse and scratchy, full of confusion. “Steve, what’re they talking about?” 

“Bucky is going to look after you, Y/N. Just for a little while and I’ll be home before you know it. You just gotta hang in there, baby. Okay?”

She shook her head, putting aside the massive headache that pounded through the temples of her head, “No, no, no, Steven, please. Please don’t leave me.” 

“I don’t have a choice, baby. I’ll be back soon. I love you so much.” a few men came up behind Steve, taking his hands off of his wife’s body and handcuffing them behind his back. “I love you, Y/N Rogers. So fucking much.” 

She screamed, she screamed at them to let him go and they didn’t listen. They continued to the car that was a few feet away from them, dragging the love of her life in front of them away from her. She let herself fall to her knees, ignoring the pain in the one that was broken and screamed for him to come back.

With the door closing behind him, she whispered one final thing, no more voice to scream and she wished he heard, “I forgive you,” 

But he didn’t. He wouldn’t know until he came back years later down the road when they let him go. 

[ask-the-mirage-lord]

Tsubasa: Oh my god, I’m the Karen in this friend group.

Itsuki: What? No, you’re the precious cinnamon roll. McNamara?

Tsubasa: Itsuki, that means that- Wait, who’s Ronnie? And who’s JD?

Ellie: I’m Ronnie, obviously.

Yashiro: I’m guessing that since Touma’s Duke, that makes me JD.

Touma: Seeing as how I get “Shut up, Heather!”ed constantly, I’m definitely Duke here.

Kiria: Who am I? Ms. Fleming? I’d say I’m Chandler, but in this scenario, that’s Itsuki.

Touma: Oh, you’re Ms. Fleming. 100%.

Kiria: shINE SHINE SHINE A LIGHT-

Tsubasa: Can you guys let me finish??

Kiria: Fine...

Tsubasa: Thanks, guys. Alright, so Itsuki, that means that you’re a mythic bitch, Touma’s got basically zero personality, and I’m just there. So Touma’s Bulimic and he’s throwing up so we’re helping him out and Kiria walks in and gives us all detention, but Ellie forges a Hall Pass and gets us out of detention, we invite her to join our little clique, we try to destroy Ellie’s childhood best friend emotionally by forging a note by her crush of 12 years that he liked him back because she’s overweight, Ellie protests and we sing an epic trio song about dumping her and joining us, Touma gets “Shut up, Heather!”ed and shoved down, he jumps up and joins us for the last harmony, she decides to join us, and we find out that Yashiro just transferred in and he’s immediately picked on by Ellie’s childhood friend’s crush and his best friend, Yashiro punches one of them in the face, the entire school’s does a harmony of “Holy Shit”, Ellie’s like “Damn, he’s h o t !” And sings an entire solo about how if he’s still alive after punching one of the school’s biggest bullies in the face, can they go out? So then there’s a huge party, and they’re at the local 7-11, so they can buy some corn nuts for the party. Yashiro sings this whole solo about how his mom died and his dad’s always moving him around so he can never make meaningful human connections, and also how he’s basically running the house because his dad doesn’t really do much, so he drinks a lot of slushies because he uses brain freezes as a way of self-harm, you yell from outside that Ellie’s taking too long, and so you all go to the party and Ellie’s having the time of her life. Me, you, and Touma then see Ellie’s childhood friend walk into the party, and then Touma tries to pitch an idea to destroy her and the “Shut up, Heather” counter hits two. So then after everything happens Touma brings in the pig-shaped piñata and says “Who’s this pig remind you of, especially the snout!” And then “Dang Dang Diggidy Dang-a-Dang” intensifies, then they dress the pig like Ellie’s childhood friend and then afterwards they pretend to like her so she’ll hit the piñata that’s dressed as her, Ellie realizes and grabs the piñata and tells her friend to go home, she does, and then Ellie’s like “I’m resigning my commission from the lip gloss gestapo” and you tell her that she doesn’t get to be a nobody anymore, she’s an ex-somebody now, and then she throws up on your shoes, you scream, and Ellie says, in the most epic way possible, “Lick it up, baby, Lick it up!”. So Ellie realized that she just committed social suicide, and decided that hey, she’s gonna die? Well she’s sure as hell not gonna die a virgin. So she breaks into Yashiro’s house in the middle of the night and he’s... he’s just down to fuck so let’s go. So then she’s asleep, and then she has a nightmare of you taunting her for being a slut because you know everything, Ellie wakes up screaming, she decides she has to apologize to you, and she goes over, grovels for mercy, and then she makes you a hangover cure because you said you’d think about it if she makes it, and so Yashiro makes a joke by pouring drain cleaner into a mug and saying that they should give it to you because it’s hard to tell in a mug that it looks wrong, she says that’s not funny, and goes to grab a mug, and it’s the drain cleaner one, Yashiro notices, but doesn’t say so, your last words are “Corn Nuts”, and then they stage it as a suicide and you haunt her, there’s a thing at school where everyone’s reading your suicide note and everyone’s happy meanwhile you’re screaming that everyone loves you now that you’re dead and everyone thinks you were a good person-

Itsuki: What the fuck?

Tsubasa: I’m not done! *deep breath* so we begin act 2 and everyone’s doing decently, and then I call Ellie and ask her to meet us at the graveyard, where we run into two drunk idiots that keep begging for consent to sex, Ellie’s immediately saying absolutely fucking not, leaves, and then Touma rises to power almost immediately, gets a dramatic solo because Ellie tries to yell at you to shut up, but since you’re a ghost he assumes she’s talking to him and does this whole solo where he says he’ll never shut up again and he and two other guys spread a rumor about Ellie doing the two other guys at once, Yashiro goes even more batshit and tricks Ellie again into killing the two guys that they say she did and makes it looks like they were gay for each other and killed themselves because the world would have rejected them, Kiria runs a whole assembly where she says she cares about saving lives when really she just wants attention, I volunteer to talk at the assembly, say “Jesus, I’m on the freaking bus again because all my rides to school are dead” I have my solo where I say I feel terrified at every turn about making the wrong move and losing every bit of my popularity, Touma goes feral on me for saying the truth, that the school is shit, and he drives me to a suicide attempt, Ellie saves my life and points out that if I was happy every day of my life, I’d be a game show host. Yashiro asks why the hell she saved me, Ellie says it’s because I’m her friend, Yashiro then suggests they kill Touma because he drove me to the suicide attempt, Ellie dumps Yashiro by singing that she’s done with all this murder bullshit, Ellie’s childhood friend jumps off a bridge, Touma makes fun of her and Ellie goes to the hospital to apologize, and ghosts of you and the two guys taunt her as Ellie’s parents come in and say that Yashiro told them about Ellie’s “suicidal thoughts” that he fabricated, and they showed her the copy of Moby Dick that she owns, which is filled with suicidal thoughts in her own handwriting, you go over her shoulder and go like “He’s got your handwriting down cold” and-

Itsuki: I don’t think I want to know the rest-

Tsubasa: I’m almost done! So then the ghost trio’s haunting the fuck out of Ellie and telling her that like. He’s coming for you and shit. And he is. Yashiro comes in through the window and then sings this entire solo about how they were meant for each other, and that he’s gonna blow up the school during a pep rally that’s about to start, says he’s gonna count to three before he opens the closet that she’s hiding in, goes “1, 2, Fuck it!” Pops the door open, sees Ellie hanging there, says he can’t do this alone but hey, if he has to, he’ll do it. So then Ellie’s mom walks in and screams, Ellie’s like “WAIT NO IT’S A JOKE”, heads to the pep rally, sings this whole thing where she says no one deserves to die except her and Yashiro, runs into Kiria who’s like “wtf Yashiro told me you committed suicide” and then tells her about the fact that the boiler room is under the gym, so Ellie goes down there, makes this entire speech about how she wishes they could have met before he was like this, they fight over the gun, Ellie gets it, shoots him, goes like “oh wait fuck I can’t disarm this”, brings the bomb out to the field and waits for it to explode so she’s the only one who’ll die, Yashiro runs in, grabs the bomb, tells her to get out of the way because he’s too damaged but she can still save herself, she leaves, comes into the school, dismantles the school’s social hierarchy, and then invites me and her childhood friend to binge movies.

Itsuki: Once again, what the fuck?

Tsubasa: I mean, hey, you’re the one who said I was McNamara.

Itsuki: You could have just said no??

Tsubasa: Not as fun. But, either way, if I’m the Karen that makes you Regina so that’s definitely wrong because-

Itsuki: I’ve seen Mean Girls, calm down-

[bucky-smiles]

Conversations With My Wife

This is my (really really late) entry to @the-canary‘s 1K Constellation Writing challenge. My prompt was Ursa Minor and while I didn’t really incorporate stars into this, I took the definition of Ursa Minor and implemented that. Fab sorry for this super late entry thank you so much for your patience ilysm :’)

Summary: Bucky, in his opinion, will never be good enough (ursa minor, the lesser bear). Based off of Conversations With My Wife by Jon Bellion

Word Count: 1.2K 

Warnings: Insecurities, angst to fluff, a pleasant plot twist 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

He was a mess, honestly. Life after his time with HYDRA was something he wished would leave him but never did. It was obvious, however at times it felt that Bucky wasn’t even getting better to begin with. He never felt at a 100% capacity, feeling that he was lacking in at least one way, shape, or form.

Most of the time, he barely felt like he was enough for his wife of 3 years, Y/N. She was perfection and he was marred with darkness. She was the rainbow bringing joy and he was the lightning causing destruction.

There were so many.. Better people than Bucky for Y/N. Bucky wonders why she chose him of all people. He was nowhere near enough for her yet she still remained with him, always smiling, always kind, always loving, and always everything that Bucky could’ve ever wanted.

He could go out in the middle of the night and lay down on the sidewalk to fall asleep without a blanket or pillow only to wake up with a pillow under his head, a blanket covering him, and Y/N resting her head on his chest as she slept beside him. She was ever loyal, ever perfect. She’d wake up after him, giving him a soft smile and an equally soft kiss on his lips before getting up, helping him up as well and leading him inside. To add to the experience, she’d probably say something along the lines of, “Next time you want to go camping, let me know so I can pack accordingly.. And bring a tent while you’re at it.” He’d laugh and they’d go back to their day as normal.

They were sitting together one day after dinner. Bucky’s eyes were resting on the wall covered in medals of honor that he received from his time in the army and as an Avenger. Y/N was laying in front of him, book in her hands and eyes moving over the words, devouring the story in front of her.

“Hey, Y/N?” The question that popped onto his mind was so sudden and suddenly felt so urgent that he couldn’t help himself, “If those medals behind you weren’t there.. If I was just some nobody that you happened to run into do you think we’d still be here? In this very spot with you reading your book and me simply fawning over how damn beautiful you are?”

Y/N pauses at the question, her sparkling eyes trailing up from the book to look at him with a furrowed brow, “Darling, what’s this about? What’s going on in that beautiful mind?” She sets her book aside after dog-earring the page, opening up her arms so he could settle in between them like he always loved doing.

Bucky did obviously, him practically laying on top of her with his head on her chest and his bionic arm wrapped around her torso, “Just humor me, doll.. Please?” He looked up to her, his steely blue eyes with nothing but waves of emotion moving through them.

Y/N sighed quietly as she leaned her head back in thought. She didn’t speak for a few moments, carefully choosing her words out in her brain. Her hands were moving through his hair, her fingers tracing the tiniest of patterns over his scalp as she spoke, “I think that.. If you weren’t an Avenger, it’d have been harder for us to get to where we are.. With whatever you’d have been doing and my job with Stark.. But I still think we were meant to be this way. With you in my arms and me loving you. It’s written in the stars, darling, no matter the world, dimension, or circumstances. You’re just made to be mine and I yours.”

Bucky smiled fondly at her words. She was always amazing with them and knew exactly what to say. He leans up and kisses her softly, drinking in her scent and taste as if it was new because he knew it was something he’d never get tired of, “I love you, doll.. More than you’ll ever know.. And these conversations I have with you are far fetched but you just.. God there’s nothing you can’t do.”

Y/N laughs at his words, shaking her head, “We both know I can’t dance for shit, darling.. You remember our wedding dance..”

Bucky laughs as well, shaking his head, “Thank God I have super soldier healing else I might still be walking around with a limp.. I lost count of how many times you stepped on me last night.. Even started thinking it was on purpose.”

Y/N was giggling as he continued speaking, her lovestruck eyes drifting all over his face and his mirroring hers, “Really though, Y/N.. All this Avengers business is good, I know that.. It helped a lot with the red on my ledger and.. And all of the pain I’ve caused this world..” Y/N was about to protest his words but a shake from Bucky’s head caused her to stop as he continued, “But you.. Being here with you… Making this life for ourselves.. It’s really-” He cuts himself off, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I feel so clean now.. Like nothing can stop me and that I deserve to have stability. I still don’t think I deserve you but I’m learning to at least accept that the world is trying to give me great things.”

There were tears in Y/N’s eyes and she lets out happy laugh through her watery smile, “I swear you sound like you’re renewing your vows or something.. I love you so much, darling, I don’t know what else to say except that you do deserve the world and everything you want.”

Bucky pushes himself up so that his forehead is resting against hers, cupping her cheek with his metal hand. She never flinched at the feeling of the cold metal, not even when they first met and started dating. “Doll you’re the only thing I want.. You and of course-”

The sounds of cries from the baby monitor on the table next to them cut him off and he sighed, “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.. Isn’t that the saying?”

Y/N giggles at her words, slowly nudging Bucky away so that she could get up, “I think he’s hungry.. And Georgie isn’t the devil you’re just jealous..” A joke, their normal banter resuming as Bucky got up and followed behind Y/N to the nursery of their 1 year old son.

“Why would I be jealous, hm? I have you and I have him.. Pretty much means I can conquer the world cause’ you and him are all I need,” Bucky knew she was blushing. Even with her back to him he had all of her mannerisms memorized like a prayer he needed to stay alive.

His beautiful wife didn’t respond as she lifted up the crying baby, “Oh no baby, what’s wrong? Mama is gonna feed you in just a moment let’s get you a bottle ready, sound good?” More blabber to the baby calmed him down and Bucky just watched, enamored with everything she did.

She was perfect and well… Maybe he did deserve it.

~Taglist!!~ (Send in an ASK if you want to be added!!! Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you)

@dontshootmespence @illegalcerebral @bookofreid @bibliophile1773@peters-pacifist @ghostual @saturn-aka-six @asgardpapi @mysun-bucky @multifandomshitblog @coffeebooksandfandom @chrevastan @ashkuuuu @sgtjbuccky @moonbeambucky @chasecollins @omnomsauruswrites @lazyperfectionist705 @the-canary @marvel-lously @delicatelyherdreams @aunty-peggy @lauxxury @itsbuckysworld @supernovasandcoronas @jjsoccer11 @zigadaba-stitch @notimetoblog @hufflebucky @godisavalkyrie @sebbies @oh-snap-bucky @katomccann @mackevanstanfan80 @devotedlyfuriousfest @unlikelygalaxygiver @petersunderoos96  @dewy-biitch @6inchicon @neoqueen306 @buckyofthemyscira

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB Week 9 Roundup!

No badges this past week, so go forth and enjoy the nifty content our creators have provided!

Title: Incalescence Collaborator: eirlyssa Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Huddling for Warmth Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Arc Reactor Issues, Metal Arm Issues, Getting Together Summary: The cold had always bothered Tony, especially considering the Arc reactor in his chest. When he realizes he's not the only one suffering, he decides to do something about it. Word Count: 900

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Title: In My Dreams I Turn You On - Chapter 2 Collaborator: ceealaina Link: AO3 Square Filled: K5 - Mutual Pining Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Mutual Pining, explicit sexual content Summary: Tony’s crushing hard on his new massage therapist, but doesn’t want to be a sleazy businessman. Bucky’s crushing hard on his latest client, but doesn’t want to take advantage of him in a vulnerable position. So they handle it like any sane adults - pretend it’s not happening and refuse to discuss it. At least they both have terrible friends to help them through it. Word Count: 11,067

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Title: Situational Analysis Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: AO3 Square Filled: A1 - Kidnapping Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Sleep Deprivation, Headaches, Kidnapping Summary: As awareness gradually seeps back in, the first thing Tony notices is the headache. Not that this is exactly an uncommon state of affairs; but depending on the reason for the headache, his day will have drastically different outcomes. Aka, is he waking up to a mild annoyance, or a rather unpleasant morning, or an increasingly miserable however long until he manages to get himself back home.  Word Count: 1200

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Title: The Paper Football Champion Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: R3 - Games Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: None Summary: Nebula has her paper football and she’s ready to play! Word Count: N/A [Feltie]

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Title: let the soft animal of your body love what it loves - xv Collaborator: deathsweetqueen Link: AO3 Square Filled: S2 - Occupational Hazard Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Time Travel Summary: In 2023, Steve Rogers, after burning his husband's body, goes through the timelines to return each of the Infinity Stones. In 2015, Tony Stark’s husband returns to him and for the first time in years, he has hope for his marriage. Word Count: 66,332

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Title: Caught Out Collaborator: JacarandaBanyan   Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - fake spell Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Mentioned sex, established relationship Summary: After Steve introduces a new rule about over-the-top PDA in communal spaces, Tony and Bucky hatch a plan to get around the rule. In hindsight, maybe they should have thought of a better plan. Word Count: 1224

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Title: Anywhere You Go, Let Me Go Too Collaborator: cami-chats Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Abducted R3 - First Date T2 - Kink: Rushed Sex K5 - Anticipation S4 - Interrupted Kiss Ship: Tony Stark/Peggy Carter Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Time Travel, Period Typical Homophobia Summary: What should have been a regular fight with Doom sends Tony hurtling back to the ‘40’s in the middle of World War Two. Maybe that would have been fine except he lands right in the middle of Project Rebirth and gets roped into becoming Howard’s assistant. Now Tony’s in love with someone that’ll be senile when he returns to the present, and he doesn’t know how to be fair to Peggy while trying to save himself a broken heart. Fortunately, Peggy doesn’t plan on being left behind. Word Count: 19,778

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Title: Spring Blossoms Collaborator: eirlyssa Link: AO3 Square Filled: A4 - Gardening  Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Getting Together Summary: There wasn't much Tony had that was truly his, but this was one of them. Until he noticed Bucky struggling and decided to help. Word Count: 1392

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Title: Cleaning Up the Evidence Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: R4 - Writing Format: Dialogue Only Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: De-aging, Parent Tony Stark Summary: Tony discovers the unexpected pitfalls of an artistic toddler [+moodboard] Word Count: 100

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Title: Blue Blankets and Bright Giggles Collaborator: HogwartstoAlexandria Link: AO3 Square Filled: A2 - Sunrise/Sunset Ship: Happy Hogan/Tony Stark Rating: Gen Major Tags: Non-Sexual Age Play Summary: Ever since Afghanistan, and Obie, Tony's become averse to loud noises. He was never a fan of shouting matches, but now, they're his worst nightmare as a little, and Happy can't have that can he? Word Count: 1031

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Title: Keep You Safe and Warm Collaborator: eirlyssa Link: AO3 Square Filled: A3 - Free Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse Summary: When Tony comes to see Bucky, it's easy to tell that something is very wrong. Word Count: 1234

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Title: Maze of Horrors - Chapter 2 Collaborator: ABrighterDarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: A5 - Phobia Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Psychological Horror, Temporary Character Death Summary: “How long?” he asked despite really not wanting to know the answer. How long had he lost this time? How many times was this going to be his reality? How many times would he be forced to see the evidence of those he loved moving on and living their lives while he was left in the dust again? How many years was he destined to lose before he was allowed to live in some semblance of peace? When Tony spoke there was an unusual hesitance to his tone and the words were quiet and carried a similar pain to what Steve felt rushing through his mind and body. “Fourteen years,” he answered. He cleared his throat and gave a slight self-depreciative smile before continuing, “Fourteen years, two months, and seventeen days, if you want the whole of it.” Word Count: 5953

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Title: N/A [Moodboard] Collaborator: chel Link: Tumblr Square Filled: A3 - Free Ship: ironsastiel Rating: Gen Major Tags: supernatural crossover Summary: a hunter, a superhero, and an angel walk into a bar…and sass each other and fall in love and live happily ever after Word Count: N/A [Moodboard]

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Title: Give Me Support for Being Alive Collaborator: polizwrites Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Writing Format: First Person Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: CA:WS Canon Divergence, First Person POV, pre-slash Summary: Bucky finds out why Tony doesn’t hate him. Word Count: 1169

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Title: Maze of Horrors - Chapter 3 Collaborator: abrighterdarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: T1 - Wake up! Ship: Stony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Fake-Science Summary: “It’s okay,” Tony continued lowly, one hand cupping the back of Steve’s neck, thumb stroking over the base of his head when Steve shuddered into the embrace. “We’re okay. It’s only been three days. No time lost and I’m definitely not married.” Steve gave a choked laugh but his hold tightened fractionally, “It’s over?” “Seems like,” Tony answered. “I think we’re home safe and sound.” Steve slumped back against the bed in relief, pulling Tony down with him. Word Count: 16,905

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Title: Bot Connection Collaborator: newnewyorker93 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Adopted - robot family Ship: Dum-E/Opportunity Rover Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard  Summary: Word Count:

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Title: Conduction Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: AO3 Square Filled: T1 - fireplace Ship: Tony & Bucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: Touch-starved, Bucky Barnes needs a hug Summary: Conduction n, the transfer of heat energy via contact.  It is a small thing that makes him notice. A simple clap on the shoulder, emphasis for whatever point he is making. But when he moves to take his hand away, Bucky follows, just for a moment, prolonging the contact. Word Count: 970

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Title: Death Shall Have His Dominion Collaborator: MagicaDraconia16 Link: AO3 Square Filled: S5 - dark Ship: none Rating: Teen Major Tags: Dark, death-fic, nobody lives Summary: When Thanos arrived at Earth looking for the Infinity Stones, he found it already dead. He, too, found death there. And now, thanks to his armada, the Merchant of Death has a way to travel beyond Earth. And death is what he lives for. Word Count: 1335

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Title: N/A Collaborator: dr-stxrk Link: Tumblr Square Filled: S5 - galaxy Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: gifset/edit Summary: N/A

[jay-and-dean]

Love me once, shame on me Chapter 2 : Sneaky little b*tch.

Dean x named reader (is this a thing ?)

Love me Once, Shame on me MASTERLIST

Serie Warnings : Violence, swearing, Smut, unprotected sex (you are smarter than this), Fluffy fluff.

Chapter warnings : Violence, swearing, blood and corpse and monsters (hey supernatural, you know...), fluff. 

Words : 2376

Chapter summary : secrets can’t keep going forever.

            His hands.

           One of them is wrapped nonchalantly around his cup, scratching an imperfection like he always did with my own old coffee cups before I burnt them all to the ground. I always loved his hands, and I used to take them in mine, playing with his fingers. It's strange not to touch him, painful even.

"Your face is definitely familiar" says Sam looking at me with that one-sided dimple half smile.

"I don't know" I shrug. "I've been hunting, we could have meet..."

Hearing his brother, Dean turns toward me and land his eyes on mine, the intensity of his glare makes me shiver, I still can't believe he's here, just in front of me, talking to me like nothing happened.

           Fuck.

"Hum, no I don't think we've met" he says." I would have remembered such a sweet face".

He grins and I frown at the sharp pain in my already shattered heart.

"Don't say that" I almost groan despite me. I hate it, I hate him, I hate myself.

He looks surprised and mutter a sorry looking down.

           Sam found what the monsters were, obviously, and joined us. Seeing him was such a strange thing. Sam Winchester, the only thing keeping the love of my life alive for all those years, the only person with whom Dean has been closer than with me...

           We had to wait all night to kill those disgusting creatures, surrounded by their crawling parts. The three of us. Dean used to dream this would happen, he told me one night, his brother and his girl, the team, the family. But he doesn't remember, and I had to hide the emotions overwhelming me all night.

           We talked until morning. Nothing better to do and the need to distract from the absolute horror of the nauseating scene around us. Of course they asked a lot of questions, and I didn't lie once : I learned about the supernatural because my first love was a hunter, when he left me I went through a rough phase, then I kept on hunting. And I quitted to travel the world with just a backpack, I came back not so long ago. I have nobody, I'm alone, always have, except when I had him... I go from shitty job to shitty job and I don't hang out with hunters, the only one I knew was Asa Fox but he died.

           The monsters burned and tiredness and hunger caught up on us, so here we are drinking coffee and eating breakfast on that same diner. I try not to look at Dean, I'm afraid of my own reaction, he ruined me, there is nothing much to break anymore, but I won't let him anyway. I just want to understand...

           Sam fascinate me. He is so different than he was when I met him fourteen years ago, like he was an entirely other person, still he inspires me a baseless affection, I can see Dean through him, analyzing the Winchesters genes and the worries they share on their faces. He looks so familiar...

"So, what will you do next ?" he asks.

"I..." I sincerely have no idea.

I need to know what happened, I need to be brave. The idea of Dean vanishing once more is so unbearable I know I'm grimacing.

"You okay ?" Dean asks and his voice makes me slightly jump like he just slapped me.

"Yeah I..." I swallow hard, the brothers look at me puzzled. "I have an old case I never solved, an important one, I need to keep digging even if it seems beyond all hope".

"How long have you been on this case ?" Sam asks and I sigh.

"Twelve years" they raise their brows in sync.

"Wow" Dean says. "Twelve years is a long fucking time !"

I shrug.

"Hey tell us about it maybe we can help" Sam states with a sweet smile.

*****************************

2005

             Dad has never been so distant, and lately I hated that. But I'm not so sure anymore. The last months he left me alone almost all the time, sending me coordinates from time to time, barely joining me, and I felt so lonely. I think I made a friend.

" Hey !" she says with that radiant smile, walking toward me, hands on her pocket. "What are you doing here creep ?"

She reaches me while the crowd of students go to their cars, bends on the Impala to look inside and squeal slightly.

"Chocolate !" she says hugging me.

I can't help but inhale the perfume of her hair. She's wearing that old oversized hoodie and her hair are a mess as usual.

           After the case I just didn't left. John would be furious but he didn't answered his phone so I decided I'm taking a vacation. Since then I found every possible reason to see her. We spent almost every evening together for a couple of weeks, talking, drinking beers, or just driving around to look for mysteries as she says. She took me to the missing teacher's house and before I realized what she was up to she broke in. This girl is something... something wild.

           We had a discussion about chocolate yesterday so I drove to her favorite chocolate shop to buy some while she was in school. This is today's excuse.

 "Okay you have to tell me now" she says her mouth full of chocolate, sitting on the Impala's hood. "I know your taste in music and movies, your love for bacon and burgers, how much you hated school, I know about your mother and brother, about your talent for mechanics, I know your unbearable sense of humor. I know you work with your father... But I still don't know who you are !"

"Well that's not so interesting" I shrug, stuffing my mouth with that too dark chocolate she loves.

She rolls her eyes and my phone rings.

"Dad ?... Yes... Yes... I'm on my way Sir".

"Sir" she mocks me with a pout.

"I have to go, but I'll be back" I say handing her the chocolate shop bag.

"Can I come with you ?" she asks as if it was nothing.

"What ? No !"

"Pleeease" she overacts puppy eyes and I can't help but smile.

"No way".

*******************************

             Looking at the ceiling I sigh. Of course I can't sleep. Getting up I grab my bag and take a little box of pills. I hate them but if I don't sleep, I'm going to go crazy. Just before I can put them in my mouth, my phone's ringtone makes me jump, spilling the pills.

Sam W.

"Hey Sam"

"Hi Jay, am I waking you up ?"

"No... No don't worry."

"So your friend that lost all memories, is there any chance she came cross an angel ?"

"Sam, are you making research for me at 5am ?"

"I like to resolve mysteries... Sue me. You know what ? This bunker we live in, remember ?"

"Yeah, yeah of course" you say rubbing your eyes.

"It has a huge library, I think it would help if you came here to look at it with me. Dean and I just finished the last hunt and he wants to stay home for at least a day or two, I thought I'll use that time to think about your case."

"And you can't settle down" I state with a soft smile on my lips.

"And I don't want to settle down".

"Okay, let me the time to drive to Kansas, find a motel and I'll text you the address so you can pick me up to your secret-bunker-house."

"We have several bedrooms, you can stay a few days if you want, no need for a motel. Just drive to Lebanon and Dean will pick you there."

I fall back on the cold mattress, rubbing my face. Shit.

"You're still there ?"

"Yeah Sam, okay. Thank you."

*********************************

2005

             The forest cabin could be a nice place if I didn't know three people died horribly here. The sign that says "Holidays in heaven" isn't lying, definitely. The night will fall soon and I would really be thankful if I could avoid spending the night here alone. I have to find those bones, he was murdered here, and his grave is empty, no coffin, nothing, they never found the body...

           Suddenly I feel a really cold wind on my neck and turn around, the ranger's ghost send me flying across the room and I land on my back in a cry of pain. My salt-gun is now behind him and he's creeping his way toward me in a scream so high my ears hurt.

           Boom !

           A shotgun makes him vanish and reveals who was standing behind him.

           Jay... She... What is she doing here ? She's standing with wide opened eyes, clumsily holding my salt gun in her hands.

"Dean ? Are you..."

"What the fuck are you doing here ?" I yell getting up.

"Was that a ghost ?" she asks, handing me my gun.

"Shit... Yes. You are unbelievable !"

"I knew it !" she whispers looking at the floor with unfocused eyes. "I knew it".

I dig on my bag and make a salt circle around her.

"You stay here, he can't reach you if you stay inside the circle" I order but she doesn't really listen to me.

"Dean, this is insane !" she says and the ghost appears behind me, sending me away again, but this time I hold on to the gun and shoot him in his horror movie head.

"How do you get rid of it ?" she asks across the room, not moving out of the circle.

"I have to find his bones and burn them ! You stay here. You hear me Jay ? You. Don't. Move !" I yell, pointing my finger at her, she's so stubborn, and I can't let anything happen to her.

"Are you a 100% sure the bones are in the cabin ?" she asks.

"Yes. I'm sure" I say faking annoyance, but too happy not to be alone for once.

"Burn it down" she says casually.

"Are you serious ? I... I need to put salt on the bones" I say seriously thinking about it.

"Put salt everywhere !" she says coming out of the circle to reach the big bag of salt I let near the circle. "This cabin is small. There is only two rooms and a bathroom, it is either under the wooden floor, on inside the water tank. If he was just under the bed I guess the cops would have found him..." she states a bit of sarcasm in her voice.

I take my gun and shoot the water tank four times, hiding behind the door, in case the bullet bounced and the water spread on the floor. I hear her scream and turn around to see her turn with the salt bag to form a circle around her, nice reflexes. The ghost comes to me and I shoot him again.

"Don't move out the circle you hear me !" I say before running out of the cabin to grab an axe in the impala's trunk and running back in to smash the tank open. A plastic bag full of something slimy with hair comes half way out of it. She was right of course ! I  open the bag with the axe and the distinct awful smell of death almost makes me puke.

           She runs out of the circle to throw salt on the rotten corpse and I take her in my arms to keep her safe. I spray gasoline on it and light a match to set it on fire. The ghost appears and screams, vanishing in red flames.

 "Winchester and son, ghost and monster hunters !" she says making her beer bottle chime on mine. "Wow, I knew you were some kind of hero !"

          She bites her lips and I frown. As I play grumpy, she kicks the folding chair I'm sitting on as she always does when she wants to tease me. The late sun is slowly falling behind the horizon, and she will soon light up her trailer with her many little pet stars.

"What were you doing there ?" I ask again, expecting an answer this time.

"I hear the coordinates your dad gave you, and I followed you" she says with a mocking smile.

"This is not funny" I say looking at my shoes, thinking about what dad would tell me, that I put her in danger, that I'm reckless and disappointing. My heart sinks.

Her hands comes to lands on mine, making my eyes meet hers. Her face is serious, there is no amusement left there. She is looking so deep inside me, and she sighs.

"I know, I'm sorry. Nothing happened to me Dean, I was reckless, I won't never be again, I swear. You don't have to worry" she says making me hold my breath.

"You're not the one who..."

"Yes I was" she cuts me. "I'm a sneaky little bitch" she smiles shyly. "I followed you without your consent. You did nothing wrong."

Why does she make me feel so good ? Why do I want to tell her everything all the time ? Why do I feel her pain despite all the energy she puts on hiding it, like I know she feels mine ? Why am I so happy she did it ?

"Your secret's safe, Dean. I promise I..."

But she can't finish her sentence because I put my lips on hers. I bend and I kiss her soft lips, closing my eyes to feel it to my bones. My heart is racing and I feel my jaw tremble so I break the chaste kiss and open my eyes.

           She's frozen. But her piercing eyes are on mine. She licks her lips and take a deep breath like she has been holding it.

"Kiss me again" she whispers.

And this time I take her face in my hands and kiss her deeply, making her open her mouth to taste her, slowly. She moans in my mouth and I forget about the world.

Feedback is pure gold ;)

@mirandaaustin93 @tftumblin

[abthepoet]

All my friends are dead.

Something strange is trending in my life.

All my friends die.

At the beginning of my sophmore year in college, my roommate from freshman year died tragically in a single vehicle car crash. Her name was Allison Lynam. We called her Blake. She was sassy and funny and I wish I would've taken more time to know her.

The rain was torrential the night she died. I swear I've never seen it rain that hard ever again in my life. She drove to the store along Highway 36 in Long Branch,NJ. She had off campus housing that year and had to use the highway often. The road was terribly flooded the night she died. Im told she hydroplaned, spun, and T-boned the driver side smack into an electrical pole. Her family still decorates it.

At that very same moment, in my dorm room nearby, I was watching TV when the lights suddenly flickered and dimmed. A brown out.

I had no idea but that was my friend crashing into a pole and dying. She was 19 years old.

I know this because that accident happened near the mall. That accident killed the power to nearby businesses.

I later found out that the road she died on was so badly flooded, the police intended to close it. Why they didnt get to it in time, I'll never know. Maybe that's fate.

Then there was Jessica Blain. Jessica Blain was a firecracker of a human being. She was 100% unmistakable. One of the loudest, funniest, most loyal people and friends I have ever met. She was also an incredibly gifted singer and I was lucky enough to have Chorus with her. We, along with a small group of friends, founded a new greek organization on our campus, Alpha Xi Delta. We were paired up as Twins. (you can't have Bigs & Littles when you're just starting the Family Tree). We named the family we formed Fuck Up Your Shit. Because that's what we'd do for a friend. I miss her laugh most of all. It was loud and unapologetic. She was there for me, supportive, and encouraging without me ever having to ask. The night I officially finished college we all went out to the local gay club, The Colosseum. I got wasted, of course. But Jess was the person who when I shouted 'I have to pee' on the ride home, she stopped and knocked on strangers doors and asked to let me use their bathrooms. Nobody said yes so she held my hand while I peed on a fence instead. I remember the last time we spoke. She was at a concert with a mutual friend. We hadn't spoken much since I graduated, she was still in school.

She died in her dorm room bed on Halloween as a result of asphyxiation during an epileptic seizure. She was 20 years old. The news was broken to me that very same Halloween night as I floated along in NY on a concert cruise. The World/Inferno Friendship Society decided to host Hallowmas, their annual event, on a boat this year. Nothing like being trapped on a musical boat while you grieve. I had messaged her AIM late that night to say hi. She had an away message up. I may have sent a message to a dead person. I miss her friendship more than I realize sometimes.

That brings us to James Padden. James was a warm, snuggly bear of a guy who always tried to do the right thing and let me steal his hoodies. He insantly became my best friend in a Stepbrothers-esque manner. I met James working overnights at Wawa in Leonardo, NJ. I forget how it started now, but we were standing in front of the deli and I think I tossed him a broom or he already had one. . . I cant remember now.. . . but he just took one look at me with that mischievous little twinkle that I quickly returned and we instantly began sword fighting with our brooms. Like two little boys playing pretend and having a ball. He was sweet and silly and kind. I needed a ride, and he loved to drive. Our first winter as friends, we went out doing donuts in the snow. I barely knew him, but I felt safe. We smoked a ton of weed and had so many adventures trying to procure more. One time, we got so high driving to a Dropkick Murphys concert in NY we kept going in circles, missed almost the entire show save for the last 3-5 numbers, and had a blast. I can barely remember the night, but I remember laughing hard in that car. No one could talk to me like James. We were both insecure being chubby kids and adults, but so charismatic and grandiose that I sometimes thought we were the only two who would put up with listening to each others wild ideas and ridiculous banter. We would smoke joints and take adderall and talk about everything and anything. I miss the safety and closeness I felt with him. We were always 100% platonic, but we could nap together, I could walk into his house and jump on him in bed and wake him up. Then we would cook ourselves a breakfast feast and hit the beach. He taught me to always take the back roads. I gave him advice on the ladies. He taught me about fixing cars. I helped shave his back. He called his new pick up truck, a pick'um up truck. We could wax philosophical all damn day and not get sick of each other.

It wasnt just driving he loved, it was going fast. Like so many young white men, he had tendency to be a little reckless. The universe gave him a pass only so many times.

I'll never forget when he got his motorcycle. It was the last time I saw him. It was a bright green crotch rocket. He loved lime green. I was doing yoga in the living room when I heard this obnoxious engine rev down my street. I asked myself, who the hell is making this noise?! And it was James, grinning from ear to ear with a matching helmet on his shiny new toy.

before he left I said, 'you die on that thing, I'll bring you back to life and kill you." I remember giving him this very long and intentional hug and not knowing why I felt compelled to hang on.

When he left and hopped back on the bike, I felt compelled again and took a video of him riding away from my driveway until he was entirely out of sight.

That's my very last memory of him alive. James Padden died on Thanksgiving five days after his 25th birthday. He went out for a joyride on his bike before dinner, opened up to 100mph around a curve where he couldn't see a car pulling out around the bend in time. They called a medevac, but he died on scene. I loved James dearly and I regret drifting apart after we both left Wawa and I started a new relationship. He had stuff too, but in hindsight it never seems important.

Then there's JB. I will always remember JB for his kindness and generosity. The very first time I finally worked up the nerve to go to a poetry slam, I was alone and terrified. I had no idea what to expect. JB was the very first person to turn around, introduce himself, and welcome me. He made me feel like I belonged. Years later, when I won the title of Grand Slam Champion, he immediately offered to help coach me for national competition. Except, I didn't see the messages and left them unanswered, which I deeply regret. When I started hosting my own open mic a few years after that, JB would be one of the only people to consistently come support the show both as an audience member and participant. It was at a pizza joint and he would sometimes buy me food when I had no money. He wrote beautiful poems about his two young daughters and how much they inspired him. JB always tried to make people laugh but you could tell he carried a sadness. I did not get details, but from what I have gathered he made a choice to end his life. I wish I would have gotten closer to him and appreciated him more as a friend and person. I wonder if he felt no one cared about him and I feel like I should've let him know more.

Which brings us to Crys. Crystopher Anthony Diaz was a Scorpio with a big heart and a big personality. I met him on Myspace back in the day and started Web camming. We became friends and eventually fell into this gray area of friends, together, but not. It wasn't long before I was spending days at his place, killing hours at a time downloading music, making Wawa runs, and smoking weed with his roommate at the time, Syd. You know, the whole reason I worked at Wawa was Crys suggesting it. And Wawa is the reason I met James. Crys was unlike anyone I'd ever met. He was poetic and artistic and loved animals, especially pit bulls. He loved to draw and write and had this very out loud style that favored Earth tones. He taught me about fashion and insisted on getting dressed even if it was 1am and we were just going to Wawa because you never know who you might see. We would buy new clothes at Walmart and have photo shoots. That boy drank his weight in coffee daily. If it's one thing I'll always remember him for, it's the dancing. Dancing was a passion of his and always used to talk about wanting to form a dance crew. Eventually, we ended up living together for four years. My first apartment was with him in this piece of shit duplex rented to us by a slumlord in Keansburg,NJ. My relationship with him was always defined by our Aries/Scorpio dynamic and he never let me forget it. His birthday was October 30th, mischief night. One time, after we had moved into a new place, we decided to get revenge on our old downstairs neighbor by taking a finished lobster carcass and throwing it on his lawn. . . . . . . Keansburg had a terrible stray cat problem. 😁

I have so many memories with Crystopher. Unfortunately, towards the end of our relationship things became too tumultuous. We had too much unresolved baggage and trauma to find a healthy place emotionally together. We were so financially strained for a time we hardly ate. And then when he met his new girlfriend Laura, she introduced him to her good friend, Roxy. As in Roxcicet. aka Blues. Neither of us knew what that even was at the time. But he sure learned quick. He started using them pretty frequently as time went on, and things only got more complicated. My mental health took a nose dive. By the time I moved out our relationship was trash. I basically left. At the time, I didnt have a choice. things had gotten so bad between us, the money, the using . . . we didn't act like friends anymore.

I saw him a couple times at his new place but that was years ago. Since then, he went through a lot, including homelessness and more struggles with addiction to opiates. He reached out to me and sent me a message apologizing for everything a couple years back. I never responded. I was afraid I would let him back into my life and let the all the problems back in. I didnt trust where he was at in his life. We lost touch and stopped speaking.

His ex, who used to live with us and became my friend, messaged me and told me he died a few days ago. He was 35. I'm still waiting for information, but it may have been drug related. I'm not even sure where I'm at with how I feel. I know why we stopped talking. It was the right thing to do at the time. But he didnt deserve to die so young, having spent the last god knows how many months homeless. It's fucking with me so hard because we never resolved anything. I loved this person so fucking much and we never made peace. Of everyone I've lost, he was the closest to me. I've had a lot of people die on me but none that I lived with and shared a life with. I have more memories with him than I can handle and while I know we hadn't spoken in years and why, I still wish I would've said something. Done something. Yes, i needed healthy boundaries but he needed somebody. when is being firm too firm? If we would've helped, could it have been different? But we didn't want to help at the time, you try to be tough and draw a line. Be firm. Not let yourself be taken advantage of. But is that a defense? Did that defensiveness leave a human being who's head i used to scratch until he fell asleep out in the cold to get sicker and die?

What am I supposed to learn from all this Universe? Why do you take my friends so young and so tragically? I'm only 35, I'm too young to have this much loss.

Because these are just the major players I've lost. It doesnt include my cousin Jared, who died being reckless on a motorcycle at 21 two years ago. I was 15 when he was born. I loved that baby, he used to bite my nose. But his family lived far, so I rarely saw him growing up. Last time I saw him was at my grandfather's funeral. He didn't remember me and the nose biting.

And then there's Marcos who we used to chill with. He worked delivery for our favorite chinese food place. He was a nice kid who lived with his grandparents. We would get food, smoke weed, hang out a little. Even used to buy it off him for a while. Eventually he got into the opiates too, he even wound up being good friends with Crys and being Blue buddies. But eventually Marcos died from an opiate overdose. He was in his mid twenties.

I didnt want to include Ricky because he was more of an acquaintance for me, he was more my partners childhood friend. But god damn, in the time I knew Ricky that kid was a riot. He was loud and funny and definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. Drugs took him too.

Thanks for reading all this if you've made it this far. It's taken me about two hours to type this out on my phone. but i needed to. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[finchilyflawless]

The 100 Season 5 AU (Bellarke)

Season 5 AU in which the radio tower isn’t screwed up and Clarke actually makes it back to Alie’s lab in time to go to space (effectively preventing Becho from ever becoming a thing). I tried to follow the main storyline from the show itself, but I had to take some artistic liberties, and I haven’t watched the show in a couple months. And scientific inaccuracies are accidental and I swear I tried my best. Enjoy!

Bellamy’s POV:

"She has one more minute," Raven says, frantically prepping for takeoff. We're all in the rocket, ready to go. Except for Clarke. She should have left the radio tower 9 minutes ago. She should be here any second. She has to be.

30 seconds later, still no Clarke. "Bellamy... we have to go," Raven says to me, looking scared and sad, but determined. If Clarke's not back, she will launch this rocket. Raven will make sure we survive. If Clarke's not here, Raven will make sure the rest of us survive.

We can't leave Clarke. We can't. I can't. I won't. "No. She'll get here." I'm tearing up, I can feel it. She has to make it back. We can't survive in space for 5 years without her. I can't survive in space for 5 years without her.

CRASH

A bunch of beakers are shoved off a table as someone stumbles into the room. They're wearing one of our hazmat suits. It's Clarke. I don't even struggle with the straps, I have them off and I'm leaning out the door before anyone else has even started to move. She's clearly exhausted. She collapses to the floor, panting, then gets back up.

15 seconds on the clock. Clarke' not going to make it. I make a split second decision and jump out of the rocket. I hear several people yelling at me, probably because what I'm doing is incredibly stupid. A grabbed Clarke's arm, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her with me towards the ship, speeding her up considerably.

7 seconds. I push Clarke up the ladder, helping her into the rocket. I jump in and we both scramble for our seats as Raven preps for take off. I strap in, making sure Clarke has done the same. She’s here. She’s safe. We’re together.

Blast off. We're leaving Earth. Maybe for the last time, because we don't have a way to get back down. My sister is still down there. Octavia is down there. So is Abby. Clarke didn't get to say goodbye to her mom, and it's my fault because I killed the radio talking to Octavia. She's not mad about that, is she? I didn't mean for the radio to die. I just wanted to say goodbye to my sister.

We've reached the ring. Raven is prepping for her space walk. Murphy and Emori are checking each other's oxygen tanks. He has 16 minutes. She has 17. "Well, at least I don't have to watch you die," Murphy mutters, rolling his head back. That’s Murphy’s version of ‘shit shit shit.’

"Nobody is dying," Harper says, glaring at Murphy. "Raven's going to get us in there and get the oxygen running. We're going to survive this." I'm not so sure. "And Monty will have his algae farm." That, I'm really not sure about. 5+ years of eating algae does not sound like much fun. But Monty's excited, and as far as I know, it's our only food source.

Raven gets the doors open. "You did it," I say to Clarke, smiling. I expect her to be proud of herself, or at least be happy about it. Instead, she just nods weakly. That's when I notice how heavily she's breathing. "Clarke, where's your oxygen tank?"

Clarke had sprinted for 10 minutes. Straight. When she'd arrived at the lab she was exhausted. She probably had less oxygen left than any of us. "I'm fine," she whispered. It looked like she was trying to steady her breathing. It didn’t appear to be having any effect. "I'm all good," she says a bit louder than before.

I shook my head. She’s lying straight to my face. She doesn’t want me to worry, I can tell. "Clarke, how much oxygen do you have left?" I ask forcefully. If she's running out of oxygen, we need to know. Clarke can't die. Not now. Not like this. I can’t loose her.

Clarke glanced at her oxygen tank. I could tell she tried to hide it, but I noticed her close her eyes for a split second. In that moment, her face revealed it all. She was accepting her imminent death. Then the expression was gone, covered by her calm collected mask. "11 minutes." That got everyone else's attention quickly.

Clarke hid it well, but I could see the fear hidden in the way she avoided eye contact and the uneasy twitch of her jaw. She was scared. Scared to die. Clarke Griffin was afraid to die. The person who had risked her life for us time and time again was afraid of death. Add that to the long list of reasons that Clarke is the bravest person I know.

Raven's back. She's directing the rocket into the landing pad on the ring. We're all running out of oxygen. Clarke's down to 7 minutes of oxygen. Murphy has 11; Emori has 12. I'm not sure about Monty, Harper, Raven, or Echo. I check my oxygen tank. 11 minutes. More than Clarke.

When we into the ring, Murphy and Emori help Raven move the oxygen machine thing. They have to go find a place to hook it up with the vent system. Meanwhile, Monty, Harper, Clarke, Echo, and I pick a nice hallway and pray that the machine works.

Clarke is pacing. She does that when she feels useless or nervous. "I should go help them. They might need another set of hands. Murphy might do something stupid. Emori doesn’t have a lot of experience managing technology."

I cut her off before she can continue panicking. "Clarke. You've done plenty. Raven knows what she's doing. Murphy and Emori will give her all the help she needs." Clearly she doesn't believe me. I'm scared too, but I know Raven can do this. "Clarke, you have less oxygen than any of us. Sit down." She does, begrudgingly.

Monty and Harper sit too, talking quietly. Echo ignores us. I stand near the wall, trying to relax and trust Raven. Clarke looks even more frustrated. Then her oxygen tank beeps. 1 minute. She has one minute of oxygen. I check my tank. 5 minutes. I see Echo checking hers. 3 minutes. Monty has 6, Harper has 5. I can see panic in everyone's eyes.

Clarke's oxygen runs out. She struggles for breath for a few seconds before breathing, "Help..."

Harper reaches for her oxygen tank but Monty stops her. "I have more," he says, removing his oxygen tank and holding his breath. Harper helps Clarke remove her helmet and Monty holds the oxygen tank to her face. She takes a deep breath and relaxes, looking calmer. She hands the oxygen back to Monty, who waits a little while before using it. Clarke is starting to struggle again, so Monty gives it back to her. They continue like this for a few minutes, until Echo's oxygen tank gives the 1-minute warning.

I reach for my tank, but Harper gets hers off first, she stands up as Echo pulls of her helmet. Harper removed her own, holding her breath, and offers Echo the oxygen tank. Echo takes it and takes a breath, just as Clarke tries to use Monty's and gets nothing. It's empty.

I remove my oxygen tank, and give it to Clarke, then remove my helmet. Harper and I are the only ones left with oxygen in our tanks. Echo, Harper, and I sit down, and start passing the tanks to whoever needs them. When my eyes start to close, an oxygen tank is thrust into my hands and I take a breath. I give it to Harper, who looks ready to collapse.

She gets nothing. Somebody passes her the other oxygen tank. She takes a breath, then hands it to Echo, who's looking faint. Echo gets nothing. We're out of air. "Get her to the vent," Monty says. "When the oxygen comes on she needs it first."

We all help Echo get to the vent. She's the first to loose consciousness. Monty goes next. We all look at Harper who looks terrified. Her fear speeds up her heart rate, and she looses consciousness next.

Clarke lies down, trying to conserve energy. I join her. What if Raven doesn't get the oxygen on? What if it was broken? What if we're all going to die. I don't say this out loud. What I do say is, "See you on the other side, Princess." My vision is fuzzy. Everything's going black. I hear a buzz. Is there a bug in here? I don't know. I don't know anything.

***

When I wake up, Harper is already awake, attempting to push Monty's unconscious body towards the venting system. I push myself into a sitting position. "Oh thank god," Harper says. "Move Clarke, please. I was going to move her after Monty."

Clarke is still out of it, limp on the ground next to me. I half lift her and slide her towards the air vent with Echo. Then I help Harper with Monty, who was farther away. "Did you check their pulses?" I ask her. What if they're dead? What if Clarke's dead?

Harper nods. "They're alive. Just deoxygenated." Thank god. "I haven't seen Raven, Murphy, or Emori yet. But they should be ok. When the others wake up we should go find them."

Echo starts to stir, along with Clarke. Good. Monty's not moving yet, but I think that's ok.

Echo wakes up ready to fight. She bolts upright and scans her surroundings before relaxing a bit. "The last time I woke up to unfamiliar surroundings, I was inside Mount Weather," she explains, her expression guarded.

Monty is starting to move when Clarke's eyes open slowly. "Bellamy?" She asks. I can't help but smile. She's ok. We're all ok.

"How do you feel?" I ask. She shrugs, sitting up. "I told you you'd be ok," I say. I can't resist smiling a little every time I talk to her. Unfortunately, I barely get a smile in return. "When Monty wakes up we're gonna go find Raven, Murphy, and Emori."

Clarke nods and pushes herself upright, leaning against the wall. "If the oxygen is working that means somebody was conscious to turn it on. A-at least one of them should be alive." She realizes how pessimistic she sounds and quickly adds, "If not all 3 of them."

As soon as Monty wakes up, Harper collapses on top of him. They cling to each other, Harper pressing a relieved kiss to Monty's lips. I don't think they realize how lucky they are to love somebody who loves you back. I wish I had that.

***

We find Raven, Murphy, and Emori. They're all ok and breathing. Raven goes off with Monty and Harper to set up the algae farm while the rest of us explore the ring. We find 5 rooms that could easily be converted into bedrooms. There's 8 of us, which means we're going to have to share.

Monty and Harper will room together obviously, along with Murphy and Emori. That leaves 3 rooms for 4 people. Clarke will probably want to room with Raven. That leaves Echo and I each with our own room. I hate sleeping alone. That's why I slept around so much when we first got to the ground.

"We got this one," Murphy drawls, pulling Emori by the hand into one of the rooms.

She chuckles and follows him. "We'll see you guys later," she says dismissively, kicking the door shut behind her. I'm sure they'll have lots of... fun.

Clarke takes over a leadership position then, as usual. "Alright. There's 5 rooms and 8 of us. That means 3 pairs and 2 singles. Murphy and Emori are... all set, Monty and Harper should be more than happy to share, which means the three of us and Raven are confined to 3 rooms.

Echo was looking around awkwardly. Things were... tense between us and I know Clarke isn't a fan of her either. "I want my own room," she says, quick and to-the-point.

"I hope you don't expect me to share," a voice says from around the corner. Raven emerges from the hallways we'd come from, her hand on her hip. "I don't do roommates."

Clarke looks thrown for a second but regains her composure quickly. "Um... ok. Echo and Raven get the singles. That leaves... Bellamy. And myself. To share. Yeah, ok we can make this work." I can't read the expression on her face and it's bothering me. I always know what Clarke's thinking.

Raven and Echo are choosing their rooms when Monty and Harper return. "There are 2 rooms left, which one do you guys want?" I ask, pointing to the unclaimed bedrooms-to-be. "We assumes you wouldn't mind sharing." I smirk.

Monty blushes and Harper giggles. "We don't mind," she agrees, giving Monty a look to make sure he agrees. They look at each other and talk quietly for a moment before Harper announces "We'll take this one!"

"Should we ration the food now, or wait?" Monty asks. "Most of us are pretty tired." He's not wrong. "If we decide to wait, I'm in, but at the moment I'd kind of like to sleep."

"Same," agrees Raven, turning towards her room. "It's late anyways. We should all get some shut-eye."

"Agreed," Harper chimes in, leaning her head on Monty's shoulder.

"Agreed," Echo mutters, looking uncomfortable as if she doesn't feel right contributing.

"Agreed," I say.

"I'm in," Clarke states. Then she adds, "But we should look around and see if we can find something more comfortable to sleep on than the floor. We might not find anything, but I think it's worth a try."

Everyone seems to agree so without half an hour or so we've collected 4 cot-mattress-things and a thin bedroll. Raven takes charge and gives all the doubles a cot, before realizing that that leaves just 1 cot and a bedroll between her and Echo.

"You can have it," Echo says dismissively, grabbing the bedroll. "I've slept on worse and I can look again tomorrow."

Raven looks pleasantly surprised. "Thanks," she says, extending her hand to clap Echo's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "I'll help you find another cot tomorrow." Echo nods, a flicker of a grin ghosting across her face.

We all split up into our separate sleeping chambers and try to get comfortable. Unfortunate, I'm anything but comfortable. Don't get me wrong, I feel more than safe being near Clarke. It's just... I never thought I'd be sleeping with her. No, NOT sleeping with her. Definitely not. Just... sharing a bed with her. Not that I'd mind sleeping with Clarke... or maybe I would? I don't know. I think I just need sleep. I think I could sleep for a week.

Before I even notice, Clarke has set up our cot in one corner of the relatively small room. "We don't have any pillows at the moment, but if they had beds there might be some of those around too." She seems sidetracked, rambling on about sensible stuff. She's not usually like this when it's just the 2 of us.

"It's fine," I grumble, my eyelids drooping. "I could probably sleep on rocks right now."

She finally cracks a smile. "I think we all could," she agrees, giving me the look. Clarke has this one look she gives people sometimes, that makes you feel like she knows all your secrets. But you willingly gave them all to her. And don't regret it. Honestly this woman is a miracle. "Do you want the inside or the outside?"

I shrug indecisively leaning against the wall. "I don't care."

Clarke grins a bit more and climbs onto the cot. "You can have the outside." She rolls over until she's next to the wall. "I'll- try not to wake you up - by - like - moving."

She sounds kind of nervous but I'm too tired to really care so I just grunt in acknowledgment and turn off the lights before lying down on my back. I fall asleep almost instantly, barely taking the time to check on Clarke.

***

I'm woken up rather suddenly by a large weight rolling half on top of me. I open my eyes to see Clarke, shaking slightly, clinging to me in her sleep. Her face is screwed up like she's having a nightmare and she keeps whispering things like: "No! Wait... stop! No..." I go to wake her up when I hear, "No... Bellamy!" This is the loudest cry yet, followed by a sob.

I shake Clarke awake gently. "Hey, Clarke, wake up," I murmur to her, using one arm to nudge her. She's still clinging to me desperately and I want to comfort her, but I can't do that if she's asleep. Her eyes open quickly, tears clumping her eyelashes, and she looks at me confusedly. "You had a nightmare. You were crying out in your sleep."

She looks shaken, her eyes unfocused. That is until she realizes she's half-hugging me and scrabbles away. I sigh slightly at the loss of contact and prop myself up on my elbow facing her. Wiping away tears gently, I ask, "Want to talk about it?" Clarke shakes her head. "Didn't think so. You alright?"

She hesitates, then nods, but I don't believe her. "I'm- I'm sorry for- for- you know..."

Clarke starts to inch away from me, still looking unsure as to whether she's safe or not, but so touch her arm gently to stop her. "No, it's ok," I say quietly, settling back down. "Come here, you can lay on me if you want. I don't want you to have any more nightmares."

Clarke starts to move slightly, then stops before I can tell if she was coming towards me or rolling away. "You- you're sure?" I nod and wrap my arm around her as she moves towards me again, resting her head on my chest. "Thank you, Bellamy," she whispers.

“Anytime, Princess.”

Heyyy thanks for reading, hope you liked it! As stated above there will be a part 2, maybe part 3. Follow me for more!

[sieben9]

“last rites” impressions

{Quick request to anyone reading: I’m watching OUaT for the first time, and I want to avoid spoilers. So, if you want to discuss something spoilery, I’d be grateful if you could start a new post for that. Thank you!}

::sigh:: God, what a mess.

No, not you.

::even longer sigh::

So, uh… I didn’t like this episode. Shocking, I know. I still have things to say about it, though, so if you want to read them, please read under the cut.

…

::the Longest sigh::

Honestly, did anyone come out of that episode happier than they were before? ‘cause I certainly didn’t…

I’d hear the argument that this is the bleak moment before the triumphant finale, but this Underworld-arc seems pretty much over.

the one (and possibly only) thing i will give zelena credit for.

I mean, it seems fitting that if you go down to the Underworld, bad things will happen, just as it seems fitting that you’d escape with your life and not much more. Not exactly a happy conclusion, but a thematically appropriate one. That the Underworld follows you back home and starts messing things up in the land of the living is just a dose of good, old-fashioned “Nice Job Breaking It Hero”, and I don’t mind that, either. But now, the villain is defeated, the damsel is out of distress (meaning Hook), and the newly dead are buried.

leaving behind an orphaned four-year-old and a literal baby. damn, show, just… damn.

Oh, but Robin isn’t “just” dead (because we have now established that being dead means nothing in this world), no, he’s been obliterated from existence. And for what? What was the narrative justification for killing him off? So that his daughter could have his name? Look, the guy may not have been the most dynamic character or most interesting love interest in the world, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve that.

Poor Regina. Poor Roland. In my ideal world, this ends with Regina adopting the little hobbit, but I don’t really see that happening. (If it does happen, that’s a spoiler I wouldn’t mind hearing, actually. I need happy news after this… mess.)

Observant readers will have noticed that I never cared all that much about Outlaw Queen, but I retroactively feel bad for all the people who were really invested. That was one hell of a brutal shipwreck.

While we’re on the subject, I will have to call shenanigans on the Other Novelty Dildo (first one being that glove Rumple brought back from Camelot)

so many jokes, so little time…

Look, I don’t actually mind the magical MacGuffins that crop up all over the place. But would it kill you to introduce them slightly earlier? Like, just as a rule: if you want to use a MacGuffin to solve a problem in episode 20, you have to introduce it in episode 17 at the latest. Now, if you want to use a MacGuffin to create a problem, maybe you don’t need that much advance warning. Though even that works better at the beginning of an arc than at its end.

And magic bullet aside… I get why Zelena killing Hades had more of an emotional impact. And I get why Regina had to be involved—she’s the only one Zelena would actually do this for. Regina worked all this half-season to forge a bond with her sister, and this is where that pays off.

What I don’t get is why Emma wasn’t involved even a little. No, seriously, go back and check. All she does is lure Hades and Zelena away for about ten seconds, so that Regina and Robin can get into the office to get the then-nameless baby back. And that was in no way integral to Hades’s defeat. So, basically, the person who kicked off the events that led to Hades being a threat in the first place had no part in getting rid of him. Well-bloody-done, show. That’s how you protagonist!

So… yeah. Kind of a disappointing villain-defeat. Although I have to say that the acting in that scene was on point. I mean…

My sincere respect for everyone in front of the camera, here, and especially Lana Parilla and Rebecca Mader. They really acted their hearts out here. I mean… you can see how much she wants to just kill Regina and that nagging voice inside her that says she’s doing the wrong thing, and then you see her change her mind. And then the dialogue tells you what just happened, but you can still see each distinct emotion on her face. ::sigh:: Dear Rebecca Mader, why couldn’t you be a character I liked?

Oh, and of course Rumple has the death-dildo now. Or at least a piece of it. Are we… are we doing this “Rumple as the backup badguy” thing again? Really? Fourth time in a row? The man just wants to wake up his wife so they can make an appointment with Archie for some marriage counselling, he hasn’t got the time to be sinister!

then again, that’s less of an action and more of a lifestyle

Oh, and because I’m frustrated and needed a break… have a gif.

I’m sure there was absolutely no other way to get that thing out of the pulverised Hades-remains. None at all. (I’m also amused that they apparently left the godly dustpile just sitting there for at least a full day. Nobody decided to come over with a dustpan? Really?)

Speaking of Rumple and his current troubles…

Moe French, I will beat you to death with the spikiest cactus I can find, and I will laugh while I do it. I think between nearly killing/personality-wiping his daughter because he didn’t approve of her choice in boyfriend and leaving her in a sleep of eternal torment, because he doesn’t like her husband, this asshole bumped himself all the way up to first place on the “shitty parents” list, which is quite an accomplishment. (To be honest, all the serious contenders for first place are equally shitty, Moe is just the most recent offender, so I’m most angry at him.)

My only consolation is that Moe’s kiss would never have worked in the first place, so while his decision is still deplorable, at least it’s not an actual complication. Shame Emma had to burst in so early, though.

Which brings up another point about Emma and responsibility that I’ll saying a bit more on later, but for this scene, just a quick aside: I don’t think Rumple was exactly right—not all of this mess was Emma’s fault. That he had to go to the Underworld? Sure, that’s 100% on her, but frankly, I’m not willing to absolve Hades and assorted assholes from blame here.

So, no, this mess isn’t Emma’s fault alone. But it is her responsibility. She started this mess, she’d better end it. By the way, guess what she didn’t do? (See above for that.)

::long sigh::

OK, let’s deal with the elephant in the room, namely, the almost-literal Deus Ex Machina.

Who though this was a good idea? Seriously, even if they did write themselves into a corner, this was possibly the worst way to do it. The method was bad, the explanation was bad, and the making out next to the coffin of the man who actually helped kill Hades was the worst.

And Hook didn’t help defeat Hades! Hook didn’t do anything except give Emma the hint about the crystal, and Emma didn’t help! I know I’m harping on this, but the longer I keep pulling on that thread, the more this episode unravels. It’s morbidly fascinating, really.

I discussed the main points on the graveyard-makout-session in the liveblog-post already, but to sum up: there’s a version of this scene that both shows Emma’s and Hook’s relief to be alive and together again without appearing entirely disrespectful to Robin’s memory, but this wasn’t it. This was about as tasteless as it could get without them boinking right there next to the coffin.

(My suggestion: let them go home before they take the train to make-out-town. Bam. Problem solved. They can have a really heartfelt hug on the graveyard; honestly, I feel like a hug would have been more emotionally honest, in any case, but what do I know, right?)

This kind of soured me on Emma as a character, too. I liked her better when she had to face actual consequences and took responsibility for her fuck-ups. And no, whining about how “this is all my fault”, only to get consoled by other characters is not the same as taking responsibility. That’s wallowing in self-pity, and it’s not a very attractive quality. (It’s also a cheap trick to tell the audience “see, the good people don’t think she did anything wrong, and so should you!”)

Oh, and just to close this out…

Yeah, this guy gets to be king of the Underworld now. Grrreat. We all still remember that he was a pretty shitty king while alive, right? That’s not just me? Then again, he’s got all eternity to figure out this gig, so who knows. Maybe he won’t be terrible in a millennium or so. (He’ll still be a douche, though. The douchiness is part of his molecular makeup, there’s really nothing to be done there.)

On a somewhat lighter note: Hook, my guy, we have to talk. You were in a position to, as I like to call it, “pull a Kelsier”, i.e. punch a god in the face. The rules declare that whenever you are in a position to pull a Kelsier, you are basically obligated do so. That fact that you didn’t is… look, I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed.

(In an attempt not to be too obnoxious about it: Kelsier is a character from a completely different fandom who did, in fact, punch at least two gods in the face. They kind of deserved it, too, even if Kelsier really had no moral high ground to stand on.)

And, while I’m on slightly lighter things:

Cruella’s face when she saw Arthur and Hook. I was wrong: someone definitely came out of this episode happier than they were before ::eyebrow waggle::

I have honestly no idea where the last two episodes are going to go, because… there’s really not much setup. Rumple still has a comatose Belle in a box, and she’s probably not getting out of there this season (because that’s not how babies work), so… what exactly is he planning?

I mean, I’ll find out, but I’d appreciate some hints, show!

[merlinthoughts]

Season 1 Episode 4 - The Poisoned Chalice

- god fucking dammit here we go again, i'm bloody done with my life and do not, at all, want to see merlin die bc i don't remember anything except that, yeah, he dies and someone has to get off their ass and save the motherfucking day and kiss him

- i realise how much i swear in these posts bc 1. when do i not? 2. i'm emotionally invested 3. i have no other excuse i just like swearing

- AAAND NIMUEHS IN CAMELOT SHE THINKS SHE'S SO SLY WITH HER HEAD THING

- id recognise her in a split second tbfh, she aint subtle

- *heterosexual tension*

- merlins skin be looking so smooth this episode, this boy be wearing lots of Dove

- he looked so excited to be in the banquet, then arthur just fucking slashes him with “not quite” and his hopes and dreams are destroyed

- “wanna see what you’ll be wearing tonight?” arthur says as he's behind the fucking changing curtains, about to get undressed and show merlin his birthday suit

- i honest to god thought that was where he was going, but no, he was just getting something from behind it

- “tonight you’ll be wearing the official ceremonial robes of the servants of camelot” IT'S A FUCKING DRESS ISN'T IT

- aw damn id have preferred a dress

- that smile shared between them was the most adorable scene

- god

- i

- fucking

- love

- their

- smiles 

- sm

- best thing ive ever seen

- i mean… hunty look at that piece of glistening butter beauty

- wow ok back to the episode:

- bros being bros and giving each other a handshake to destroy the mortal enemy pack and put together a family, we stan.

- as if a servant who has only had eye sex with another servant ONCE would trust them enough to say that one of the chalices were poisoned. like??? “ur the only one i could tell” LMAO NO?

- she's a sly fucking dog tfbh

- “if he kills arthur, uthers soul will be broken and camelot will fall” at this rate uther prob wouldn't care if his son dies or not, look at him, he's already mentally broken. he has anxiety and paranoia over magic. child services where u at in the medieval ages?

- i wouldn't believe a word she said, or well, id have believed it was poisoned but id say yeah no damn way you aren't in on it if you know which one it is. bayard wouldn't tell a fucking servant.

- HE'S GONNA SNAP ISN'T HE

- MERLIN FUCKING SNAPPED

- yknow what we say here folks? U DO U MERLIN

- okay i was fine if uther made bayard drink it but like the moment uther said “mmmh… no.” and slowly turned to merlin i think my arteries just crunched together and died so

- “if it is poisoned, he’ll die” HE'S FUCKING SCARED MERLIN WILL PASS AWAY ISN'T HE?

- “it's fine” he says, then starts to fucking choke

- ah fuck he's down

- my boy is down

- FUCK ME SIDEWAYS WITH A CHAINSAW

- ARTHUR CROUCHES NEXT TO HIM LIKE “BB NO”

- lmfao bayard looks so shocked, his face is in disbelief and confusion, he's like who tf done me bad

- arthurs carrying merlin fireman style this is what i live for folks

- did like nobody notice the flower stuck on the inside of the cup? like honestly if you take a sip you’d kinda spot it or perhaps even the person pouring the drinks would have been “is this chamomile tea? no? then what the fuckery-doo is this leaf in here for?” yknow. it's like that scene in Matilda when the angry buff lady completely missed a fucking salamander in her cup when it was the size of her bloody hand. it brings out the same mood honestly

- does gaius have an index for these books or does he just have every page memorised and know exactly what page to go bc I FUCKING NEED THAT it would make bio so much easier if i knew what page it was on instead of looking back and forth from the homework sheet to my textbook, then closing it by accident and having to find the index again for that specific page i need

- arthur wants to fucking go on a life-or-death journey to save merlin i've never been so happy

- this is honestly my favourite episode, like it may be really fucking angsty but i love it so much

- arthur betrays his dad and leaves his room even after being told not to just so he can save a servants life is literally my new moto

- NO IT WON'T LOAD MY NETFLIX IS STUCK ON 99%

- okay so while i'm waiting for my shit to load, i just discovered the new fucking tumblr rule starting dec 17 and i'm like 0.2 inches away from just spamming NSFW pics on here just for laughs

- like hunty, that won't stop people from posting elsewhere or for thinking about sex bc like??? whatchu gonna do tumblr?? get the fbi to erase it from our minds

- i think nOT thot

- watch me get flagged for just using the fucking term “NSFW”

- i'm gonna end up asterisking everything (is asterisking a word? wow it has red under it so like probably not but i just added it to my dictionary so uhh it is now)

- by asterisking i dont mean furry kin shit ew no

- i mean like N*FW, s*x, t*mblr, m*rthur

- god it took me like 20 minutes to calibrate my fucking wifi and fix the connection problem

- wow the stage for the poison increased by 75% in 30 mins, damn

- merlins like like having a conniption on his bed lmao, chanting arthurs name and sweating lot

- do we ever find out how uther gets that scar bc i'm like 100% positive arthur was a little child and swayed his fucking sword too hard just as uther rounded the corner. the sword then collided into his fucking brain and destroyed a good part of his intelligence, targeting especially his morals on how to accept people and how to be a good father

- that’s my theory

- merlin starts talking enchantments in his sleep while gwens watching, and gaius is just there like wtf merlin ur blowing ur cover “oh! gwen!! uhhh sorry. he’s just... in a latin study group in his pastime and has an oral presentation in minutes”

- omg, nimueh, stfu

- i didn't know dinosaurs existed back then, this reptile be whack

- y’know what's funny? ppl thinking dinosaurs didn’t exist. i find creationism very very very intriguing bc how fucking stupid could you be

- that sword throw was faker than my moms tits

- arthur could have done better

- k but like what if merlin’s hand wasn’t under the covers? like he was just throwing that blue ball around right in front of gwen

- can arthur like not hear her? nimuehs literally enchanting the rocks right behind his ear lobes and arthur acts nothing of it until those said rocks collapse and he gasps and suddenly he realises shes evil

- also his fucking hair in this scene looks glorious. perhaps bc it's pushed back rather than his bowl cut, but its doing things to my abdomen

- i thought for a second she was pulling off her mask to say “nimueh” and arthur was gasping bc he only recognised her after her hair was shown, just like in that scene with joker and harvey in the hospital

- OH RIGHT THE SPIDERS I LIKE COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THOSE SONS OF A GUNS

- i’d be dead if those spiders came crawling up to eat me lmfao

- k so nimueh went from :) to >:D in half a second

- i'm smelling up those symbolisms, boys

- watch out pals cause here are some of them:

- merlin is the LIGHT of arthur’s life

- he LIGHTS up the party

- he gives arthur a BRIGHTER future

- he's the GUIDE for his path

- hahhahahaha

- i'm serious when i say i have a huge fear of insects (spiders count in that too, no discrimination) so i'm just putting that there, saying to yall id be fucking terrified

- gaius would be so confused, like we don't see his face here but merlins close-up sweaty concentrated frown, but he’s literally just screaming “ARTHUR!!” “FASTERRR!!” “YESS!!” “CLIMB!!!” gaius would be looking like he walked into something he wasn't supposed to. prob thinking he should just let the kid die so he doesn’t have to deal with this shit anymore

- UTHER LOCKED HIS SON AWAY I'M FUCKING QUESTIONING HIS PARENTING SKILLS

- that's grounding???? throwing ur child in prison???

- yes 999 can i have child services on his ass

- gwens so smart honestly i love her

- pretending to be a maiden for the food, god what a queen

- arthur buying it and saying “yuck you say this is food?! disgustang!”

- the fact that i misspelled disgusting but it autocorrected to disgustang (which is originally what i wanted but autocorrect shouldn’t have known) makes me consider if i should really check my dictionary…. who knows what words are on there

- they’re so smart

- and then this fucker ruins it all while eating his food, checking her out and saying yeah arthurs a prick, hyuck hyuck, realising only that wait fuck u aint the maiden

- how’d they know GWEN was the one not supposed to have delivered the food, what if it was that chick right there???

- welll….. maybe it's because gwen took her sweet time up those steps, staring as if she couldn’t blink at the guards below

- i forget what happens at the end of this episode besides the kiss, and there's like 9 minutes left my fingers may rot at this point

- wake him up! wake him up!

- OH WAIT HE DOESN'T FUCKING WAKE UP DOES HE AND EVERYONE PANICS

- YEAH OKAY I'M SEEING THAT NOW

- MERLIN STOPPED BREATHING

- LMAO GWEN IS IN TEARS

- “HE'S DEAD” SHE SAYS

- ARTHUR BB COME IN HERE TO KISS UR HUBBY ALIVE

- OH WAIT UR IN FUCKING PRISON

- WAIT UP, HE'S ALIVE AND SHE KISSES HIM AFTERWARDS????

- FUCK ME I THOUGHT FOR THE WHOLE EPISODE THE KISS HAPPENED BC HE COULDN'T WAKE UP THAT'S FUCKING WITH ME I DIDN'T KNOW

- i keep forgetting to switch up the cap locks, sorry if it seems im screaming im legit using my inside voice for most of the time just emphasizing my words a little more

- goddamn, everytime they say mercia i just think of “murica”, like those americans on the 7th of july or whatever date the “we love our country” day is, chanting it as they throw around beers and fireworks as people gather round in jerseys or crop tops

- it's not that hard to spot the european on here

- the most celebrated holiday here which contains a lot of beers and big pub gatherings (besides every fucking night honestly) is either new years, lowkey stereotypically correct saint patricks, and ig easter monday but that's more for the kiddos

- i mean ofc christmas and all that shit but im not the most devoted christian, i just like presents and small gatherings among good friends

- wow okay it wasn't the 7th of july

- i mean at first i looked up “USA day” (i couldn’t remember the name) and it popped up today’s date, and i was like no thats not it at all. dec?? its in like july i think. and i was close! it was july 4th.

- uther damn knows it's nimueh!!!

- i mean, he just overheard morgana and arthur talk about it, and initiated himself into a convo about it once morgana left, as his sneaky ass just slithered up like “hey man, u know that woman? yeah uhh, what she say? anything about me? no? k i know who it is tho”

- i thought he was going to apologize or like explain to arthur what's the sitch, but he just waits for five whole seconds before saying. “those who practice magic know only evil. they despise and seek to destroy goodness wherever they find it.”

- arthur, confused: sounds as if you know her

- uther, walking away: i do

- arthur:

- wow k lots of fucking quotes here cause it's the merthur reunion

- get ready babs

- arthur: still alive then?

- merlin: oh yes, just about… i understand i have you to thank for that

- arthur, leaning on the chair merlin is sitting in, stifling a smile: ah it's nothing, a half-decent servant is hard to come by. i was only dropping by to make sure you’re alright… i.... expect you to be back to work tomorrow

- merlin, watching arthur as he slightly walks away having embarrassed himself: arthur... thank you

- arthur, slowly: you too

- they stare for like 5 whole seconds

- arthur, uncomfortable: well… get some rest

- there we go folks: my eulogy.

- hope someone reads it at my funeral

[littleoldrachel]

Eleventh chapter is up! Read it here on ao3, or here on ff.net, or under the cut. 

100 Ways to Say I Love You Summary: In which actions speak louder than words, Sirius and Remus sort of fall in to a relationship, and even though neither of them have said those three all-important words, they both know it anyway.Or: 100 Ways to Say I Love You by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Previous |  chapter 11/100 - “You can have half.” | Next Based on this post by p0ck3tf0x Tw for grief, anxiety, hints at depression, a use of the f-word, mentions of child abuse.

Against James’ wishes, Remus’ advice, and Akilah’s concerns, Sirius returns to work just a few days after the news breaks. Having lost four days to his grief, his schedule is tighter than ever, but the pressure is a blessing in disguise - because he plunges headfirst into his projects, and just… does not surface.

Time loses all meaning, now that he's spending every single second in the office - sketching, programming, editing, it's all time-consuming work that requires Sirius’ utmost attention.

His friends bring meals to the office and his colleagues force him outside once in a while for some fresh air, but without his graphics tablet in hand, he's a shell of a person, aimlessly fidgeting and tugging at his clothes. He needs to be busy and productive because otherwise he's just the waste of space his parents always claimed he was, haunted by memories and longing for relief - but nobody seems to want to accept that. He begins to sleep at the office, but with no semblance of a schedule; he crashes beneath his workstation whenever exhaustion gets the better of him, and wakes to expressions of concern, aching shoulders, and the feeling of bone-deep fatigue that no amount of sleep can solve.

His grief is a current that keeps pulling him away from the work he's trying so hard to focus on, and every time it's a little harder to propel himself back to it. It tugs and claws and drags at him, and no matter how firmly he tries to embed himself in the sand, his pain is relentless.

But so are his friends in their compassion. Lily brings him his medication, and texts him reminders to actually take it, you silly angel. Frank cooks his favourite comfort foods, and doesn't complain a jot when Sirius cannot manage more than a mouthful. Kingsley makes him drinks by the gallon - some alcoholic, some not, some piping, some ice-cold, depending on how sad he looks at that moment.

Alice sends him videos of animals doing stupidly adorable things that thaw his frozen heart like nothing else can, and bakes him cookies and cakes that go largely uneaten. Peter seems to be the only one who understands Sirius’ need to be at work, because he enables him like the rest of the group refuse to - taking him to work, bringing him fresh clothes, asking him about the projects, and it's refreshingly normal where nothing else is. James encourages him to talk about his feelings, takes him to therapy, and doesn't get mad ever when it all gets too much and Sirius screams at him to fuck off, Prongs, I'm fine. Every time Sirius thinks James has peaked as a best friend, he goes and pulls something like this, which just reminds Sirius how utterly indebted he is for this friendship.

Marlene gets in touch with a promise to chase up the issue with Alphard leaving Sirius everything. Sirius wants to shout that he doesn't give a fuck, he wouldn't touch a penny if he could just have Alphard back, but he knows that she feels guilty she can't be there physically, so he lets her do what she needs to without arguing. On top of all of this, there are well wishes and messages of love from school friends he hasn't spoken to in years. It's a lot.

(It's too much, and every day, more and more messages stack up in his inbox that he simply doesn't have the energy or the will to respond to).

And then there's Remus.

Lovely, soft, understanding Remus, who comes to the office just to sit in silence and be with him because he somehow knows that the memories are a little less intrusive with his presence. Who brings him flowers just because Sirius’ shoulders slump a little less with the sight of them. Who stops him from torturing his heart with a caffeine overload. Who witnesses every single panic attack and anxiety attack and supports him through them no matter what he's supposed to be doing. Who never asks for anything from him but gives and gives and gives, and Sirius takes it all greedily, because God knows he's earned the right to be selfish.

(Sirius cannot comprehend why he's spiralling when he has literally the best support network he could ask for, but he hates himself for this perceived flaw in any case. And this self hatred only shoves him harder into his work - he doesn't spare a thought for what he's going to do when he's finished because all that is keeping him going right now is the fact that he needs to get these done).

His therapist tells him that the way he's responding is normal and expected, and he wants to yell fuck off in her stupid face, because if it is normal to be this angry and numb and depressed and overwhelmed, he is uninterested in ‘normal’ and ‘expected.’ He tries to channel this frustration into his art - because healthy outlets are important, she also reminds him, but there’s just… some kind of barrier? Blocking his emotions from the blank white page? He wants to fucking smash something - because fuck healthy coping mechanisms, fuck it all.

Of his two projects, the most pressing task is a double page spread in the next month's issue, which will introduce a character of Sirius’ own design, complete with costume, backstory, and a personal article. He has enough free reign that he barely needs to ask Akilah's guidance at all (which is a blessing because the thought of talking to anyone brings him out in cold sweats and ragged breaths).

His character is one he's been perfecting since his Final Project at university, and perhaps this makes it such an easy task despite the fogginess of his brain. He pours his tattered heart and battered soul into first the paper sketches, then into the tablet, his eyes aching from the attention to detail. What he ends up with actually stirs a feeling of something in his stomach, and he clings to the thought of something that isn't grief-related like a lifeline.

Ember, a trans woman of colour whose 'real job’ is in chemical engineering, can manipulate shadows to travel through the world, and she's, in Lily's words, completely fucking awesome, I love being bi. Sirius maps out her afro with painstaking strokes, referencing and counter referencing her features to ensure he's doing this right, and by right, he means don't be a racist fuck and make her nose all like a white person, in Frank's words.

The comic strip of her origin story involves an unhappy childhood, a found family, and a journey of self-acceptance that is so close to his own, it's almost embarrassing, except he's so in love with Ember, he doesn't give a single shit. Her superpowers come about from an experiment gone-wrong at work, the product of enthusiastic conversations he'd had with Gideon about the plausibility of this incident all those years ago. It’s nostalgic in just the way he needs - living in the past, a past in which Alphard was alive and well and thriving, means that he can pretend, however briefly, that the ground hasn’t collapsed beneath him.

The final section - the personal article - presents the greatest challenge, and he half-heartedly bashes out a few paragraphs on the importance of representation that make him wince in their detachedness. It takes almost a full bottle of whiskey late one night to actually allow the emotions to spill out, into sentences about how works like Queerllustration’s saved his life, how the realisation that people like him could be heroes too meant so much to anxious, closeted twelve-year-old Sirius. It’s cheesy and personal and possibly too-much when he sends the article to Remus to edit, because as gifted as Sirius is with pictures, it's Remus who's best with words. Remus sends an edited version back within a few hours, and Sirius loves him for it - both the eloquent way he's rearranged Sirius’ syntax and the speed with which he's turned a diamond-in-the-rough shiny.

The end result is one that, even in his grief and frustration, Sirius is proud of.

(He thinks Alphard would be too).

(If only he were here to see it).

The second project is one that Sirius had been so excited to be commissioned, because the idea of a mural for a children's ward sparks the sense of adventure and hopefulness that he sorely needs. Fresh from the adrenalin of churning out his first project, he refuses all offers of time-off or an extension, and ploughs onwards, ignoring how flat and empty the world outside his sketchpad has become.

Remus comes to the office at eight o'clock at night one day, and watches him work for a while in silence. He’s been working on the mural mock-ups for hours by now - a fact, he knows by the ache of his shoulders and the sting of tired eyes. Eventually, Remus shifts from his spot in Sirius’ swivel chair, and crouches before him, cupping a hand to his cheek and forcing Sirius to meet his gaze.

“Please come home,” Remus says softly, and the vulnerability in his eyes almost breaks Sirius. He almost caves. Almost.

“I have to finish this section,” Sirius mumbles, reluctantly removing himself from the warmth of Remus’ palm, and turning back to his designs.

Remus says nothing, and Sirius cannot bear to look back at him, for the disappointment in them will be unbearable. When Remus gets up and leaves, Sirius feels his already-broken heart shrivelling, and he forces himself to breathe through the pain of it, concentrating as hard as he can to distract from the ache in his chest.

But then -

The door clicks open once more, and Sirius jerks around in surprise. Remus is standing there, his expression heart-rendingly kind. He’s got a blanket wrapped about his shoulders and arms full of take-out containers.

(Sirius wants to sob at the gesture - at how good Remus is, and how much he cares - but he can’t seem to remember how. Or rather, there’s something that doesn’t allow the tears to come, they’re somewhere inside him, but trapped).

Remus sits beside him, and Sirius tucks against his side, huddling into the blanket that Remus drapes between them. When Remus pops the lids on the various containers, the aroma of Indian food hits his nostrils, and for the first time in weeks, the smell doesn’t nauseate him. He manages more than a few mouthfuls, listens to Remus natter about his day, allows himself this hour to just be.

Because then it’s back to the grind, and no amount of pleading from Remus will persuade him to cut himself some slack.

(Why should he take it easy when Alphard cannot take anything ever again?)

The finished design is pretty fucking epic; superheroes will decorate the wall, clad in brightly coloured costumes and masks, but these superheroes are special, because some are in wheelchairs or on crutches or missing limbs, some have Special Needs, some have no hair, some have oxygen tanks. In other words, they look like the children he’s seen on his visits to the ward, all with various illnesses and injuries, all far stronger than anyone their age should have to be.

(And if there’s a hero in there who’s older, with crinkles around his grey eyes and a wild mane of platinum hair, whose features make Sirius’ chest pang, then what of it?)

The commissioners are utterly thrilled with it. The children are delighted, the families are admiring, the medical staff appreciative. Congratulations, interview requests, and thanks come pouring in at an alarming rate. Plans are made for it to be painted the following month, and the attention it attracts funds a second commission in another section of the hospital. All Sirius hears is how well he’s done, that he’s a rising star, that this is only the beginning of a bright future. And of course, he’s grateful, these are things he’s dreamed of hearing his whole life.

But it’s too much.

Of the people clamouring his brilliance, there are none more enthusiastic or proud than his friends, all of whom photograph it from every single angle, save any and all mentions of his name in the local paper’s coverage, are more supportive than he deserves.

And Sirius -

Does not register any of it.

It's almost like he thought that finishing these projects and making a name for himself would feel like enough - would counter the horrible, unacceptable truth that Alphard is gone.

But nothing has changed.

Alphard is still gone.

And logically, Sirius knew that completing these projects and pretending things were normal wouldn’t change this fact.

But he still feels like a failure for it.

When the paint is dry on the walls, Sirius leaves the hospital, nodding at the nurses he’s come to know by name, and… walks. He walks past the tube stop he needs to take if he’s heading back to the office, past the stop that leads home, past the buses that he could catch to Peter’s - and he just keeps walking.

The sun drifts lower and lower in the sky, until the Christmas lights are flickering on and Sirius is low-key shaking with the cold the evening brings. Businessmen shove past him impatiently whilst tourists amble in front of him, and no matter where he positions himself, he is in the way, a burden, an annoyance, empty, empty, empty. Catching sight of his reflection in the shop windows is a nasty surprise; he barely recognises himself in the heavy bags beneath his eyes and the downwards twist of his mouth, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

By the time his nose is running from the cold air and his limbs are well and truly numb, the crowds have thinned out, but he doesn’t stop walking. His mind is oddly blank, and his feet keep carrying him, as though each step might shake off the incredible weight of grief he’s shouldering.

(It doesn’t).

He’s not sure at what point the tears start coming. In fact, it’s only when an older gentleman leaving a mosque stops him in concern that he’s even aware that he’s crying. He accepts the tissue the man is pressing on him, but waves off any other questions, dabbing his leaking eyes and forging onwards.

It’s ironic that the harder he cries, the more people avoid meeting his gaze. The tears are streaming and his vision is too-blurred to see straight - he’s a complete fucking wreck, and nobody cares enough to help him.

(Except that’s not quite true).

(Because there are friends who would help him only a phone call away, and it would break James’ too-generous heart to know that Sirius was walking the streets alone and devastated).

(As it is, it’s Remus’ door he ends up at).

(Because of course it’s Remus. It’s always been Remus).

He’s trying to pluck up the courage to knock on the door, when the man himself comes round the corner. Remus is wearing his university sweater - the one that Sirius likes to steal and curl up in because it’s huge and carries Remus’ scent better than anything else - and has his earphones in, a carrier bag swinging loosely from his fingers. Sirius hasn’t been spotted yet, which gives him approximately five seconds to arrange his features into something a little less distressing, and wipe his eyes.

Then, Remus looks up. The second his eyes meet Sirius’, he’s running - and Remus doesn’t run - but he makes the short distance down the corridor in record time, and presses a hand to Sirius’ cheek.

Neither of them say anything for a moment, but Remus’ eyes flit frantically over Sirius’ face, before he loops his arm around Sirius, and tugs them both inside his apartment.

(Were he in a better state of mind, Sirius would be concerned over the fact that Remus doesn’t bother with a key, because his lock’s still fucking broken).

Winky hops down from her perch on Remus’ countertop, and purrs as she winds through their legs, following them to the sofa. Remus pulls Sirius down beside him, and Sirius goes, willingly, hugging as closely to Remus as is possible. The tears, which have momentarily eased, return again in full force, and Sirius is racked with sobs as he arches into Remus’ lap. “W-why am I - crying - again?” Sirius manages, and Remus runs a soothing hand up Sirius’ back. “Why can’t I stop?”

“Because you’ve repressed this for too long,” says Remus so gently that Sirius doesn’t even flinch at the blunt honesty of it. “Because you pushed through it, and didn’t let yourself grieve.”

Sirius screws his eyes shut, the pain in his chest mounting with every ragged breath he draws. “It hurts, Moony.” He claws at his chest vaguely, though hurts doesn’t even cover it - it’s all-encompassing, all-consuming -

“I’m sorry, love,” Remus whispers. He twines their fingers together, rubbing his chest in circular motions. It does nothing to ease the pain, but it’s a reminder that he’s not alone in this hell-hole, and it’s Remus.

“Hurts,” Sirius repeats to himself.

“What can I do?” Remus says, the desperation seeping into his tone.

Sirius shakes his head, has to bite his tongue to stop himself from snapping something like bring back my dead uncle, and murmurs, “just hold me?”

“Of course,” Remus whispers, tugging Sirius even tighter against his chest.

Eventually, Sirius’ flow of tears ceases, though this has more to do with dehydration and exhaustion than because he’s nowhere near done feeling terrible about it. From that point, the intense cuddles morph into something more relaxed; the tv is left on a Netflix show they’ve both seen before, Remus reheats some leftovers, and Winky settles down in Sirius’ lap. Sirius looks blearily at the menorah in Remus’ window - it’s electric, because anything else in a flat so poorly-built and badly-designed seems too risky - and watches as Remus lights another of its candles. He looks so beautiful in the candlelight - all soft edges and warm golden glow - and he ducks his head self-consciously when he catches Sirius’ staring. “Happy Hanukkah,” he says.

“Happy Hanukkah,” Sirius returns, trying to ignore the thought of is Remus missing Hanukkah with his family? Is that because of me?

“Where do we go from here?” Remus asks, what must be several hours later, judging by the temperature drop in the room. Sirius, almost cozy and comfortable in his nest of blankets-safety-Remus, takes an anxious breath, because he knows what he needs, but it’s not what he wants.

“I think… I need to sign off work for a while. But like, properly this time.”

Remus squeezes his hip where his hand is resting. “I think that sounds like a really smart idea. I’m proud of you.”

“I love you,” Sirius says quietly, and one day, when his head is less grief-heavy and his heart less broken, he will be able to say those words with the full significance of everything in his soul. But today is not that day.

Remus replies at once, and the words bring a warmth around his heart that is the most feeling he’s had in far too long. “I love you too.”

And so begins a true healing period. One in which Sirius lets himself sob when he feels his heart re-shattering, scream when everything feels so unfair dammit, smile when something pleasant happens - because lovely things do happen, and he doesn’t have to live the rest of his life feeling guilty for it.

(Or so his therapist says. He’ll get there eventually).

In other news, he’s sort of living at Remus’ now? For the time being at least? The first night he’d slept over, Remus had had to go to work the next day, and Sirius just… didn’t leave. And then he continued to not leave. He spends the time Remus is working hanging out with his friends in their various workplaces, or binge-watching shows with Winky, or sketching for fun, not for work, I promise, Prongs. It’s the first time in forever that his mind has been able to just be, and he can feel the weight lifting a little with every day he spends waking up to the sight of Remus bashing his alarm clock in annoyance.

That’s not to say it’s easy - it’s not. There are days where getting out of bed is Far Too Much, and he cannot breathe for panicking. There are times when he remembers that he’s probably really overstayed his welcome at Remus’ and works himself into a tizzy about burdening his best friend.

But there are also lazy Saturday mornings with pancakes and syrup, late-night excursions for ice cream, tug-of-wars with Winky, outfit-selecting for Remus, phone conversations to Remus’ family… it’s all so fucking domestic, and it makes Sirius’ heart ache for what could be. The thing is, living with Remus is safe and warm and comfortable, and Sirius wants it all, all of this and so much more.

(“Is it helping?” James asks him one Wednesday evening, when Remus has a bar shift and it’s just the two of them in the flat. Sirius feels guilty for the wistfulness in James’ eyes as he nods, but his heart flutters as James admits, “you seem so much better these days. Remus is so damn good for you”).

In Sirius’ incredibly unbiased opinion, he’s inclined to agree, because days later - days? weeks? months, even? - he opens his eyes, takes a breath, and isn’t bombarded with painful memories. And a little while after that, he wakes up and finds that his chest isn’t a gaping hole - it’s more like there’s the skin covering the wound is thin and fragile, but healing. He’s healing.

Before Sirius’ colossal and overwhelming breakdown, Marlene had promised to help him with the Will Situation, because an official-looking letter arrived from his parents’ lawyer that had made him burst into tears without even opening it. He kind of assumes she’s got better things to do, until one day, he gets the following cryptic message:

Marlene: ahem, bow down before me, underling, for I have worked magic and it is finally time to recognise my brilliance

Sirius: ????????

Sirius: i kno ur brilliant i don’t understand

Marlene: true, true

Marlene: but no seriously, I’ve dealt with your shitty family and the will money is yours. They can’t touch it, or you.

Sirius: ??????

Sirius: !!!!!!!

Sirius: are you for real???

[Sirius is calling]

“Marls,” Sirius half-sobs the second she picks up, “Marls - thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Marlene’s voice - usually full of the fire and justice that make her such a successful lawyer - is soft, but no less protective. “It’s amazing what you can achieve with accusations of child abuse and neglect.”

Sirius winces, because she’s right, but the truth hurts. “I love you,” he says, and Marlene makes an mhm sound that Sirius knows is accompanied by a hair flip. “I - I don’t know how to thank you enough -”

“No seriously, don’t mention it. You’re my friend and I would do anything for you, yada-yada-yada, let’s not get sappy.” Marlene’s briskness has returned, and Sirius can’t help the fond smile his lips curve into. “I’m gonna send you over the details of emails between me and their fuckheads - I mean lawyer scum - and the form you need to sign, and then the money is yours.”

There’s a pause, in which Sirius exhales, trying to process everything all at once, and Marlene softens her tone again: “And Sirius, love?”

“Mmm?” Sirius says vaguely, still too affected to deal with more.

“It’s a lot. The money, I mean. He’s left you everything.”

“I don’t care about the money - as long as I don’t have to face them again, I couldn’t care less about-”

“You will, when you see it.”

(Despite Marlene’s efforts to warn him, waking up one morning with an extra two digits on his account balance is a shock, to put it mildly. Once he’s finished logging in and out of his account, refreshing the page, and even contacting his bank, it finally begins to sink in that Alphard has given him everything. And the implications of that generosity are huge).

Because, here’s the other thing: Sirius knows that Remus is poor. Living with Remus had been like a brick in the face at university, because he’d never had to worry about where his next meal was coming from, or choosing between paying the gas bills and paying for school textbooks. But Remus did have to, saved and scrimped every penny like it was goldust, and got terrifyingly annoyed at the rest of them if they were ever wasteful. But somehow, in Sirius’ disgusting throne of privilege, since university he’s sort of forgotten what it looks like to be poor. It’s only as he watches Remus cut open toothpaste tubes to scrape off the remnants, or mix his toiletries with water when they’re half-full, or save potato peelings for homemade soups, that he remembers. (And he’s completely disgusted with himself that he ever forgot).

He watches Remus’ pile of bank letters grow, watches the way Remus’ wrinkles deepen and his shoulders climb higher and higher with tension whenever he’s opening his bills. He watches Remus’ gaze skip straight over the Tesco Finest selections, to the reduced to clear and everyday value ones. He watches Remus wear through the sole of his shoes, shrug and continue wearing them, because what choice does he have?

And his door’s still fucking broken.

Sirius thinks it’s this last thing that causes the spark of inspiration in his brain, and once it’s ignited, it’s unstoppable.

“We should move out and get a place together,” is what he proposes over dinner that night, his heart hammering and palms sweating.

Remus raises his eyebrows, forces a laugh, and says, “very funny, Padfoot.”

“No, I’m serious -”

“So am I,” Remus says, laying his fork back on the plate. “We’ve talked about this before. This place is a shithole but it’s also the only London property in my budget.”

“Not if we were living together.”

Remus pauses, and for a split-second, Sirius thinks he’s going to agree. “You and I have wildly different budgets,” he says eventually, taking a sip of his drink, and not meeting Sirius’ eye. “And besides, I thought you were saving up for your own place?”

“Just listen to me, for a second,” Sirius says, reaching across the table and wrapping his hand around Remus’ wrist. Remus looks at him, but says nothing, and Sirius takes this as a sign to continue. “I’ve researched this properly, Moony. This place is awful, and I hate the thought of you living somewhere like this… but if we joined forces - well, with the money from Alphard, we could get somewhere together - somewhere nice and safe.”

Remus has stiffened, and Sirius feels the anxiety creeping up his spine like a serpent.

Fuck.

“I don’t want your money, Sirius,” says Remus tightly. “Or Alphard’s. Let’s drop it.”

“But it could help us find somewhere to live,” Sirius protests, his anxiety making him clumsy and insensitive, but also unable to stop his efforts. “You could live somewhere with a landlord who’ll fix your door, and where you don’t get faggot written on your mailbox, and where-”

Remus stands abruptly, taking his bowl to the sink, and scrubbing at it harshly. “Drop. It.”

“Just explain it to me then!

“I just did, you’re not listening.”

“If this is about the money, then you know I don’t care -”

“Exactly, you don’t care about it,” spits Remus, whirling back around to face him and - oh, he’s pissed. “Because you’ve never had to. You look at a place like this and think, oh what a dump, and throw your money around, but for some of us, this is as good as it gets, okay?”

He’s not quite shouting, but this is no longer a conversation, and Sirius feels awful and shaky. “But I’m offering you a way out of that,” he says in a small voice, even as he digs himself further and further into this grave.

Remus closes his eyes, presses his fingers against his mouth, and says, “I don’t want your money. I’m really happy that Alphard’s left you enough money that you’re able to offer this, and I know this comes from a good place, but-”

“You can have half,” is what spills out of his mouth, and he knows how it sounds - it may have come from a place of utmost care and concern but right now, it just sounds privileged and classist and awful. “I-”

“I don’t want your money,” Remus repeats. His face has shuttered off, and Sirius feels a swell of annoyance because this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“Stop being so bloody proud, I just want to help,” Sirius snaps back, hating himself even as he’s ruining everything. “I love you, and I don’t want you to live like this.”

Remus laughs, but the sound is wrong-wrong-wrong, miserable and cruel and so un-Remus-like that Sirius flinches. “If you really loved me, you would understand that you’re being a massive dick about this.”

Silence falls. Winky looks between them, at the shattered remnants of their friendship/relationship/whatever they are to each other. Sirius’ chest hurts once more, but this is an entirely different type of heartbreak, one that he’s not sure he’ll survive.

“You can go.” Remus won’t look at him.(Sirius has ruined everything).

[colorelijahtheory]

After game thoughts: Kingdom Hearts

Welp, I completed Kingdom Hearts 1 100% (except for 4 Gummi Ship missions because F**k them) This was written in a Discord chat, but nobody really responded to that apparently. 

WARNING: Obvious first draft of long text incoming!

I think this one washed away my frustrations with Birth By Sleep. Because while the gameplay starts off kind of slow at first, it starts to pick up much better. Anything that was frustrating in KH1 mostly comes from the slowly teleporting enemies, and I mean there are a lot of enemies that do that, or the platforming.

The problems with platforming come from Square Enix experimenting with how to make a 3D real-time battle system, while also figuring out how to make the worlds. Unlike the later games where the worlds are mostly composed of big separate areas meant for bosses, and hordes of heartless, KH's worlds have this maze-like mentality where there's more than one way to enter a room, and even in Wonderland and Hollow Bastion there are a couple of secret rooms once you solve a puzzle or two.

I understand how that could be confusing to newer fans, or even fans who only played KH2 where the worlds are more streamlined or straightforward. But I do miss worlds like Traverse Town, where it feels more like a town with a bunch of other people from other places, and not just a bunch of areas.

The only way that that town could feel more alive and at home is if they have NPC sidequests and stories on par with something like Majora's Mask.

As for the Gummi Ship, I do get people's complaints about how the Gummi Ship starts slow at first, but once I started upgrading my ship, from its armor, to its weapons, to it's engines, to even a few gadgets and doohickeys, it's a bit more fun. Again, kind like upgrading your arsenal and abilities.

The Final Mix version adds in some missions for more parts and blueprints. Some of them are simple as getting a higher score or getting a high score while having a specific weapon. Some of them can go straight to hell like getting no score while not getting hit.

Speaking of Final Mix, the additions they made to this game is pretty impressive from new weapons, new enemies, new cutscenes, fixed glitches, and new bosses that mostly tie in to the next game. It just sucks that we common international people never got a chance to play this until it was released until the PS3 which even then I didn't think we'd get at the time. I played this on the HD remix collection on the PS4 and it still looks fantastic even if they didn't change much.

(I was hoping they would alter a lot of scenes where they have the low quality facial models for the HD remixes)

Despite that last parenthesis comment, the graphics still hold up for even to this day. Square Enix games have this tendency especially during the 64 bit era where they look good at the time, but will get dated about a year or so. But the graphics here, even though you can tell it was made during the PS2 era, is expressive, colorful, and cinematic. A lot of love and care went into making sure that the Disney characters and worlds look like their respective movies, even the original worlds have a lot of detail and imagination that Disney would do if they made an RPG.The choices they made for the Disney worlds, stand out on their own both in aesthetics and in structure, from Tarzan's Jungle, to the desert of Agrabah, to Halloween Town, and... okay a little confession to make.

The first KH I ever played was Chain of Memories for the GBA, because I didn't have a PS2 at the time. So I didn't know much about the first game, other than the trailers showing me which Disney movie is going to be represented, including the Nightmare Before Christmas, which I had vague memories of watching before playing CoM. So I thought that the Heartless originated from Nightmare Before Christmas. I mean can you blame me? The heartless are black creatures some of which with pointy antennae, and they mostly look Tim Burton-esque.

In fact, if Tim Burton himself designed some of the heartless, it wouldn't surprise me. 

Notice I haven't even gotten to the story yet. I mean at this point before all the sequels, midquels, and prequels, the story is actually easy to understand, with a few hints of complexity and ridiculousness that Square Enix put in. Now the crossover element isn't fully there, but that's okay as long as the original characters are interesting, fortunately, they are.

As much as people mock Sora for being a young idiot, he's one of the few Square Enix leads that is an optimist. Which even before Square Enix tends to not have anymore. He's not a brooder like Cloud or Squall, but he's not as annoyingly immature as Tidus. Although if I were writing the story as I was, I would have a small moment where Sora realizes that his home is destroyed, and everybody he knows might be dead or the very least missing, he could cry even though he's trying not to, and the others are trying to comfort him. Because I don't care if he's a teen, you'd be emotionally f*cked up if your home is destroyed by an unspeakable force.

Riku actually does have an interesting character arc throughout the series. He starts off as a troll who wants to leave his home, and then becomes manipulated by the villains to make him jealous of Sora join the dark side, becomes possessed by the real villain, and then redeems himself in the end. I noticed how the Final Mix main story cutscenes mostly revolve around him. One scene he's waking up in Hollow Bastion calling for Sora and Kairi, realizing they've been separated, and another has him walking in the Realm of Darkness realizing that he's lost everything, and wishes that he could apologize. This makes him a bit more sympathetic I'll say.

The only real issue I have, that I think is being brought up in KH3, is the world order stuff. Like don't meddle or chaos and darkness... I don't really know what, but it's never explained why it's a good thing. In that case, why would they bother with the other worlds, other than to find Riku, Kairi, and King Mickey? Wouldn't you want to tell them about the heartless so that they know what to look out for? It also makes King Triton kind of a jerk, I mean more of a jerk. What would he do if the Keyblade master never came to your world and saved it? You wouldn't do anything because it'll be gone, and everybody would've died. I mean the trio doesn't even try to defend themselves by saying he's trying to save the other worlds if that's what they're even doing, which they are, but it's not exactly their number one priority. There's responsibility as a king, and then there's responsibility as a protector.

But oh well, it was mostly dropped in KH2 because the villains f*cked up everything at this point, although I think it's being brought up again in KH3. But if I'm speculating based on the cutscenes I've seen, maybe most of the story could be about the world order collapsing, because the world's inhabitants are getting smart, and the only choice to have is to risk the world order or the universe will be no more.

All in all, Kingdom Hearts 1 is not my favorite, mostly because I have yet to play all of them again. But it's definitely up there, just for having all that Disney charm, and being a neat little experiment. I say play this first, if you want to know how the games evolved from here to Kingdom Hearts 3. But for Disney fans, this is the few KH games that still retain that Disney charm, and for Final Fantasy fans, there are many familiar spells, references, and cameos that I'm sure those fans appreciate. I might do another when I beat Chain of Memories.

[soldierswar]

Melancholia-Chapter 6

A/N: So, I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately about my writing. I’m adding these newish characters, and beginning these new storylines that I’ve had in my head for years, and now I’m finally getting to the point to writing it, and letting you guys read it too, but now I’m starting to worry that maybe it’s just stupid, and nobody will care about it, or hate it? It’s making me kind of nervous and I wonder how much of it I’m actually going to end up ‘publishing’ on here. Has anybody else gone through this? How did you handle it? I’d love to hear from you. <3 

8 months ago

Ryan

Her hair was a tattered mess, and she looked as though she had been in tears for the entire night. And from what I could tell by the open, half-finished bottle of rum on the counter she had spent the whole night just as awake as was.

I knew that Emelia was going to say the truth that we had been denying ourselves for years. I just wasn’t sure that I was ready to hear it.

“We’re never going to find her.” She muttered. Her voice was defeated, and tired. She sat on the couch of the hotel room with her arms wrapped around her knees like a small child. Within all of the time since Scarlette disappeared, I had never seen her so broken. As time went on since the fall of Hydra, she grew more and more weary. As if every part of her circumstances weighed more and more on her each day, and she didn’t have the person she needed most by her side.

Emelia and I had stayed at each other’s side since the outward fall of Hydra. And we had been around as Hydra began to rebuild itself. Emelia herself being the daughter of Alexander Pierce was a prominent figure. But what Hydra saw was very different from the truth. She had been trying to figure out how to take it down from the inside. Unfortunately, despite all of the efforts, not even she could figure out how to do it. So, we were stuck in a limbo of reluctantly following orders in honest fear for our lives. In order to at least try to get away with not doing what they wanted, Emelia made up leads that only we could follow which would occupy us for months. These months weren’t actually doing work for Hydra, but it was time we used following any tiny lead we had in finding Scarlette. After years of doing this off and on, we were completely out of ideas.

Even though I knew the truth, Emelia speaking those words hit me like a freight train. I knew at that moment that I was a failure. I had failed to go through with what I had promised my dead best friend to do, and that was to make sure that the girl he loved from the first moment he saw her would be okay if anything happened to him. And I let him down the moment she disappeared. How was I even supposed to live with that along with the millions of other things I had to live with?

“’Melia-” I sighed.

“Don’t…” She interrupted, taking in a long, shaky breath.

“Do you know how long it took me to even face this? We can’t keep doing this.”

She turned away looking off into the distance of the hotel room.

“Besides. If she is alive, us looking for her could put her and us in danger.” She added.

I nodded. I knew that it was something she had to tell herself over and over again before coming to this conclusion. Granted, it wasn’t by any means a lie.

“I wasn’t trying to fight you on this.” I said, looking down.

She snapped her head back to me. I was generally the pretty optimistic one, so hearing me of all people talk about throwing in the towel was a shock to her.

After a long pause between the two of us, she finally broke the silence.

“What are we gonna do now?”

…

Present day

Scarlette

I sat alone in the immaculately white room for almost 15 minutes. 15 minutes of pure fear, anxiety, and contemplation of what was about to happen next. It felt as though acid was running through my veins, and my lungs were being stepped on by an elephant. Although, I should have been used to this by now.

           It had been almost 2 months since I had been taken away from my life in Oregon. My cover having been blown, along with the life that I had left behind some time ago with Hydra being brought out of the shadows. And now it was all coming back around to me detail by detail.

           Stark was going particularly hard on me. Every little detail about every little piece of information that I told followed with 80 different questions, and I had to answer all of them. It never occurred to me that no matter how much a million different memories haunted you on a daily basis, being constantly questioned and cross-examine on them made it 100 times worse.

           A full night’s sleep was a rare occasion. And when I did sleep, I’d wake up practically drenched in sweat completely out of breath. I could barely stomach the idea of food anymore, except for when James practically forced me to take a few bites throughout the day. I constantly tried to reassure him that I was okay, but I couldn’t ignore the worried stares that he tried so hard to hide if I so much as lifted my shirt up exposing my ribs and sharp hipbones.

           Both of us were under maximum security watch. Granted, it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. We had our own little rooms, kind of like a really small apartment, except under constant vocal surveillance in our rooms, and video surveillance outside of them. They tried really hard to keep James and I separated in our own separate rooms, but they eventually let up and let us stay together. They probably just figured that if we were plotting something, it would be easier to find out if we were almost never separated. Other than that, we were only allowed to interact with other people under max security. Not that we ever wanted to anyway.

           Suddenly, I hear the door open cautiously. My heart began to race at over 200mph, and I realized that I had been digging into my palms with my sharp nails so extensively that I was almost drawing blood at this point. After the previous day of practically getting screamed at, and having files practically thrown in my face I just wasn’t ready. No amount of whiskey in the world could get me prepared for more.

           “Well good afternoon, Tipsy.” Tony chimed sarcastically walking into the door.

           He referred to be as Tipsy every now and again after I was extemporaneously pulled into the interrogation room at 8pm, and I was almost too drunk to form coherent sentences. The new nickname was not an amiable one as he was famous for doing for people he loved. It was almost clear to me that every verbal attack on me was personal. And I was getting the feeling that it wasn’t exactly personal on me, but who I was attached too.

           I didn’t respond to the greeting, but slouched into my chair. He noted my deliberate response and shrugged.

           “Listen. I got a new person here, I’m evaluating him to see how he does in these types of scenarios. His clearance is at minimum security, and he’s almost done with the program, and we’re probably gonna keep him.”

           I simply blinked showing how uninterested I was with this.

           “What I’m saying is that he’s going to be the one talking with you today.”

           I tilted my head.

           “But I was really enjoying out little talks.” I replied innocently.

           “Oh look, she can speak in sentences again.”

           I rolled my eyes and sunk further into my chair. Encounters with Stark may have been mildly terrorizing at times, but I always tried my best to seem as cool and un-phased as possible.

           “Alright, come on in.” Tony called out towards the open door, dropping a stack of files on the table.

           I didn’t look in the direction of whoever was coming in. I just stayed as still as possible. I knew that if Tony was bringing someone else in, he wasn’t bringing in someone pleasant. Especially if it was another one of his ex-Hydra recruits.

           “Scarlette?”

           The voice was soft, and cautious. But it was familiar. I knew it. I knew him.

           I turned around, and just as I had suspected…

           “Ryan.”

…

           What was supposed to be another dreadful session of interrogating ended up being 2 hours of catching up. Hearing about how he had gotten out of Hydra and how this whole program was so good for him made me so happy for him. I was glad that it had all been working out for him for the past 6 months. He had tried to get Emelia to come along with him, but she was too afraid of what could happen and reluctantly stayed where she was. Just the sound of her name, and how close I was to being able to see her again felt like my heart was being twisted.

           “So…The girl that everyone is talking about that is with The Winter Soldier is you?”

           Ryan asked in complete disbelief.

           I nodded, noting for a moment that I was starting to blush.

           “Aren’t you supposed to be interrogating me on my plot to murder the president with my super soldier boyfriend, instead of my actual love life?”

           He chuckled.

           “Well, I don’t know what you did, or what you said but Stark is hell bent on finding something on you.”

           The mood shifted, bringing my mind back to all the issues at hand. I knew that I was automatically under extra scrutiny just because of who I was with.

           “Scarlette,” Ryan said in his big brother reassuring tone.

           “You’re gonna be okay.”

           I nodded up and down trying to believe him, but then started shaking my head lightly.

           “How can you be sure about that?” I replied.

           Suddenly the door swung open with a loud bang against the wall. I jumped, and turned my head to see what was up. It was Stark.

           “You!” he exclaimed, slamming a stack of papers and files in front of my face.

           “You said you didn’t lie about anything. That was bullshit!”

           I shook my head in complete confusion and disbelief, switching my sight from Ryan back to Tony. Even Ryan looked confused.

           “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Unless you’re just trying to get all of your stories in order.”

           I was still completely speechless. I was scared, angry and frustrated. Nothing I could do or say was good enough, and I didn’t know what to do anymore.

           “Do I need to say it?” He sighed.

           “Say it.” I fired back with an angry tone.

           “Because I don’t even know what you’re even talking about anymore. What? Did I not clear with you what brand of socks I’m wearing today? That, sure maybe I wasn’t exactly 17 the first time I killed someone, but 17, 6 months and twenty something days old? What is it? What more do you want from me?”

           He sat down on the corner of the cold, metal table in front of me.

           “First of all,” He said in a hushed tone.

           “We found some files of yours that were incredibly hard to crack. But we got into them, and we went deep into them. So, is there anything you care to say now? Because I’ll just say it out loud now.”

           He paused, thinking that that would mean something to me. As if it should have.

           “Nothing? Okay. How about the fact that when you claimed to be in a two-week long coma after your little boyfriend died, there are 12 assassinations with evidence, and confirmation that they were all by you?”

           I stared blankly at him, completely unsure of how to react. Where was he getting all of this bullshit from?

           “Or the fact that you said you only worked with The Winter Soldier once during your time with Hydra? That was a lie, all I have to do is go back to exhibit A.”

           He still wasn’t getting anything from me.

           “Or…How about the fact that you withheld that Alexander Pierce is your father!”

 Tagged People: @a-heart-attack-ow @sexysamsungl @carryonmyswansong 

@fantasticimpaladoctor @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

[minsyal]

[Link x Reader, Molduga Mishaps]

Summary: you go vroom, he go “I do it too!” nooooo

It was a perfect day outside in the Gerudo Desert. The sun was not quite setting, but not beating down on your head turning you into a small conventional oven. It was mid-afternoon, almost evening. Anyone who planned on traveling throughout the desert would do it now. Small groups of travelers ran along the path toward Gerudo City, only to be turned away for being men. A Goron went rolling past, leaving a large trail of dust in its wake. You coughed, shielding your eyes from the airborne sand.

           The Divine Beast was stirring the sand sea, creating an unbearable storm that absolutely nobody could penetrate. You had heard about some “hero” or “champion” who was supposedly alive after 100 years, but it was probably just a tall tale. How the hell was someone going to just reappear after abandoning everyone? No matter. Right now, you were focused on strapping up the first sand seal you could to go take care of that stupid Molduga that terrorized the Southern Oasis. Just last month, you found a wounded Rito who had become stranded due to that thing.

           After moving to Gerudo City, you were hard of work. As a way to earn some extra rupees Riju, the Gerudo leader, had contracted you to take care of certain hot spots around the desert. It was your job to exterminate them as soon as you could after a Blood Moon. You had always acted as a mercenary, simply a body for hire. So when you got the opportunity to possibly settle down, even if for a moment, you took it.

           You moved along the sand dunes, crouched down, eyes searching and scanning for one of those magnificent beasts. One sat a few paces away, lying face down. Quietly, you creeped forward much like you would around a sleeping Hinox. Once closer enough, you lurched forward attaching your hook to it and swiftly threw your shield under your feet. The seal took off, speeding through the ground heading straight for the oasis. You could see the distorted image of something lurking through the sand. It moved at a fast pace, matching that of the sand seal. The Molduga stopped and changed directions, bounding toward you.

           “You’re awake today, huh?” You taunted, tugging the reins to the left and changing directions. The Molduga followed suit. The seal headed straight for the oasis rocks, only to turn at the last minute with your demand. Turning your head, you watched as the beast went crashing into the underside of the boulder.

           “Oh come on! I know you’re not that stupid!” You laughed, throwing your head back. The Molduga regained its balance, pivoted to come at you, and all of a sudden changed its mind.

           Another rider sped toward you, tossing sand into the air which caught the attention of the monster. You sighed, pulling back on your reins to signal for the seal to stop. It was a voe, he was adorned with the Gerudo voe gear. His chest was exposed, with the exception of a sleeve and a few ties holding it all together. His blond hair was tied up with a red and gold headpiece and held on with a band that ran across his forehead. A peculiar looking stone was attached to his leg, it had the Sheikah crest on it. Was that a Sheikah Slate?

           The rider attempted to fire a bomb arrow at the Molduga, missing terribly and only getting thrown off of his shield. He mounted one of the rocks, spinning in circles while watching the beast circle him. One could say it was comedic. Rather than offer help, you observed, wondering how it would all play out. The voe shot another arrow, but became disgruntled when the creature began to move away. He stepped out onto the sand, and immediately regretted it. Flying nearly 15 feet into the air, you could vaguely make out the sound of his frantic scream. Another arrow was shot, this time hitting it on the nose. He did this a few times before getting thrown into the air again.

           “Alright, that’s enough.” You slapped at the ropes, causing the seal to take off. You noticed the boy was not getting up this time. He laid on his side in the sand. A streak of crimson stained his face and his chest moved violently as he gasped for air. “Hylia, you cannot put a lick of faith into these people.” Shaking your head, you finished the beast off. It shriveled into a black mass, like always, and exploded into its most valued parts. Ignoring them, you made your way over to the boy and dismounted from your seal.

           “Hey.” You reached down to brush your fingers across his face, no response. “Come on, dying on a stranger isn’t very polite.” Locking your arms under his, you glanced in the direction you left your ride only to find an empty space. It was nearly a half mile away by now, speeding furiously back toward its pack. Cursing, you opted to move him up onto a boulder.

           The sun had moved down into the line separating land and sky. The temperature had dropped considerably and now you could feel a slight chill. The only place to go that was mildly protected would be onto the oasis. You needed to get him cleaned up so his cuts didn’t get infected. Initially you had not expected for this to take long, so you hadn’t brought any water or supplies.

           “Alright, you’re going to have to help me out here.” You looked to the unconscious boy. “What am I saying?” He wasn’t as heavy as you had expected, maybe you were stronger than you thought. Somehow you managed to get him up there.

           The water wasn’t as cold as you wanted, but it did feel nice against your burning skin. It was a mystery how this small pool of water had managed to survive this far out into the desert, but you were thankful for it. The fabric of your pants tore easily, leaving one leg slightly longer than the other. You could always have a new pair tailored. You dipped the ragged cloth into the sparkling water, soaking it entirely.

           The strange boy was laid out on his back, his head propped up slightly with your backpack underneath. He now breathed steadily through slightly parted lips. His dirty blond hair was stubborn, doing its best to fall into his eyes. At first glance, it didn’t seem like he had all that many cuts, but upon further inspection you noticed his entire body was littered with them. His chest and forearms were covered with small nicks and big spots that had faded into a dark brown color. Was he really that bad of a fighter? The moment the water touched his forehead, he jumped to action. He sat up stiffly, eyes wide and cheat heaving. His hand reached for his back, where his weapons had been, only to find negative space.

           “If you really want something pointy to stick in my face,” you motioned to his side, “your weapons are right there. Quite nice, I must say.” You fisted the rag, letting the water run from your fingers onto the sand. “I was kind of shocked to see that bow. It’s well,” you shrugged, “it’s pretty nice.” You looked to your hand. Sighing - you had squeezed all the water from the cloth.

           “I need to refill this. Wait here.” You moved to get up, “Oh and it’s going to get cold soon. So if you’ve got any other clothes in that bag, I would suggest getting them on.”

           “What happened?” He asked with a hoarse voice.

           “You tried to take on the Molduga, which I had handled thank you very much.” You said from the waterside. Plunging the rag into the water, you lifted it and rung it back out.

           “Who are you?”

           “Nobody important. I’m just a traveler who needs a little extra pocket change. Who are you?”

           “Link.”

           “Funny name. Now, hold still.” You knelt down in front of him, one hand resting gently on his shoulder the other tapping the rag against his cheek. Link focused on you, staring quizzically. He tilted his head to the side when you pushed his chin with your fingers.

           “You really got yourself beat up.”

           “Why did you help me?”

           “Are you not used to the kindness of those living around here?” A small huff escaped from your lips, “I guess it’s kind of hard now, with all the evil that roams. Trust me, I’ve made that mistake more times than once,” you laughed to yourself, “Don’t mess with those Yiga folk, they aren’t too nice.” He remained silent while you washed his wounds.

           “You know, a little friendly conversation is nice every now and again.”

           His cuts weren’t nearly as bad as they originally appeared to be. Now, you were concerned with the dropping temperatures and how you were going to get to the Bazaar or the city. Maybe you’d just have to stay the night at the oasis and hope your body didn’t freeze. It was dark out now, the time was relatively uncertain.

           “So,” you discarded the rag and brushed your pants off, “want to make the trek back with me?”

            “I don’t think that would be a smart idea.” Link replied, leaning to rest on his back as he raised his arm to point to the sky. The sky was turning a dark red, small bits of ash were beginning to float weightlessly through the air. You watched as the moon peeked over the horizon stained and dripping in a thick currant color. 

           “Dammit.”

Request:  Hi there! I’ve just found your blog and I think it’s great!! May I ask for a link x reader request? Maybe one where link is travelling and sees you fighting something and he thinks you need help so he comes to your rescue, only for you to have to save him (maybe he misread the situation and got overpowered). It would be great if he got injured as well and you have to stitch him up in a cave or something as you run from the fight cause I’m a sucker for that. Thanks in advance hon!! ❤️

This is a super old request, I’m so sorry. BUT this also tells everyone who has requested in the past that I will eventually get to it! :)