#and you will learn what the song is referring to

[lesmolghost]

Dead On Main Idea idk what to call it

Brain worm hit me again and ever since i started listening to Epic the musical, it hasn't left me ever since

imagine the Fentons are in gotham or near it that allows Danny and Jason to meet

Danny and Jason are both together from their younger years. They even got fake married somewhere and had rings and all. It was a joke marriage but both of them were committed to said marriage.

They're both idiots that think they're still friends when they already act like an old married couple. Everyone around them wonders if they know they're actually dating.

Someone asks Danny (lets do danny) if he has a girlfriend or boyfriend and Danny (or Jason if they're both together at a place) just shows him the toy ring and says he's already married.

They're happy and all but good things end eventually. Jason dies in that warehouse. Danny wonders where Jason is until he gets news of "robin's" death. Danny is devastated

Time passes and life goes on, but Danny hasn't got over Jason, and probably never will. He subconsciously refuses relationships even if he tries to love again, but he still keeps searching for Jason in them.

When Jason gets revived, he doesn't remember almost everything from the past, but small fragments. The thing is, his pit rage is caused by him remembering something, and especially someone, who he lost in the past. Every time he remembers something, he loses it and his rage is in the form of longing—searching for something or someone he doesn't know or remember. This lasts for years

Meanwhile, The stuff with Danny still happens. From The phantom bit to the ghost King bit.

Both of them are adults now but seem to can't find love. On Danny's side, they know why Danny isn't interested in loving someone else, seeing Danny stare at a window with longing eyes and waiting. But the Batfam? No they do not, and neither does Jason himself know why. They even set Jason up with people and he ends up pushing him away

now idk what to do in this part in first meetings but not recognize each other and all, but the time they realize and or remember (for jason), it's a heartfelt reunion, because Danny Learned that Jason was alive, but Jason feels guilt because of the things he did. After a bit of a verbal fight, they reconcile, and both of their eyes don't look gloomy anymore. Danny definitely also flies Jason as they dance in mid air like some fairytale

Now imagine this scenario with the song Would You Fall In Love with Me Again with Jason as Odysseus and Danny as Penelope

I am also imagining an animatic idea where the line "left a trail of red in every island" would refer to Jason killing a lot of people while the "wedding bed" would be the rings Jason and Danny have on their childhood marriage

[grapejuicestyless]

Let Time Pass

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: The one where you grow up. And Harry makes you realize how important time can be. Inspired by an old post I saw on instagram that originated from Tumblr! If anyone knows my reference please tag below!

Time is a valuable construct. But just as necessary as it is, it becomes a dangerous game to play.

For a while, you sit still and watch the world around you move. Yet as a child the days still feel so long and nights are always young. The 7p.m. bed times don’t phase you yet. You scream and cry and beg for another hour on the couch with your older siblings, packed together by your shoulders with your favorite cousins, but you don’t consider how much living you miss.

Because when you are a child, the world still revolves around you. Graduation is a distant memory, you can count on both hands how many years are laid in front of you. The chalkboard is still fairly clean, it reads, “first grade!” and your biggest fear is if you’ll be naughty or nice this year.

You don’t care about boys, or girls, or how to kiss or what to wear. You have freckles in the summer, you love them, and you don’t worry about if your hair looks messy because when you run and play, it’ll fall out anyways. You sit in the backseat, buckled into your booster, and sweat as your father takes a swig of his soda because you are innocent and have not yet learned the difference between drinking and driving and having a drink while driving.

Until, suddenly you’re seventeen. Suddenly you sit behind the wheel of the car you once sweat in the backseat of. There is no man running on the power lines like you once imagined, though sometimes you still stick your fingers against the glass and pretend to run because the company is nice. Some distant melody from a song your grandfather introduced to you when you were a toddler plays on the radio. You hum along and run the stop sign. You can count on one hand how many months you have left until graduation, and the chalkboard now reads, “Senior year!”

You’re getting older, and suddenly time is not nothing anymore, but rather something. You can officially look back at all the memories you haven’t lost, but no matter how hard you wish, the childlike innocence can never return, and your childhood best friends will never come back. You’re getting older, and suddenly the things you once hated, you enjoy now.

You like to feel love. You met a boy in your science lab. He plays with your hair as you lay your head in his lap and promises to love you forever. He asks you to prom, and he matches your dress. He offers you the moon and the stars, promises to shout from every rooftop that he loves you.

He places kisses along your neck, bruises hidden by your collar. You run your pointer finger down the slope of his nose, and you smile at the breathiness in his laugh.

It’s flashy, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. Teenage love, young, reckless, vulnerable. You promise to love him forever, and that no matter the distance, you’ll forever be tethered by your love.

But the sky is not infinite. You can only see so many stars at night, and theres only one moon. He ties it to your waist, but he forgets to take care of you, and it pulls you away. It’s puppy love, but it’s all you ever wanted. It’s so perfect and raw and fresh, until it isn’t and the distance grows to be too much.

You can count on one hand how many years of college you have left. How many years you’ll have your summers and can play pretend for just a little longer. You move out of your childhood bedroom. You let your cousins keep your old CD’s. You don’t need them.

Then, he walks into your life.

He’s perfect, in the way his brunette hair swoops around his eyes and the lightness in his laughter. It feels different with him.

You marry him. You wear a white dress, he wears a suit. You feed each other cake and dance to your favorite song. His vows are perfect, and you no longer recall the boy from your hometown who broke your heart.

That’s the funny thing about time. While occasionally, a color or a song may remind you of a distant memory, while you live on your own and explore all the world has to offer, slowly those who left you will leave your mind. You let time pass.

Suddenly you’re nearly fifty. Your oldest is in college now. You can count on two hands how many years of college she has left. She wants to be a doctor. Your youngest just finished the fifth grade. You feel so old.

It’s summer time. You work during the summer now, but get vacations every so often. You use those days to follow your husband on tour when he goes, but as you’ve settled down those years are far and fewer between. He still sings to you, like he used to sing to your kids. You melt at every word.

The cicadas buzz around, chirping into the dimming light. It’s getting late, and your children are eager to leave.

Your oldest kisses you goodbye and leaves to hangout with her girlfriend, while your youngest and middle rush into the yard to play with their new toys. You take a deep breath, and your eyes meet his.

He looks at you with eyes full of love, a tenderness only someone who cares deeply can hold in their gaze. His plate is empty, but he sits patiently waiting until you finish yours, and makes no move to get up until you do.

As you’ve grown, tome has become more valuable to you. It’s limited and you realize it more and more. What you once longed for, waited for, becomes a distant memory. Childhood is gone, and adulthood feels overdone.

Your husband doesn’t show you off like a diamond ring, he doesn’t yell from the treetops or promise you anything extravagant. He gives you his most precious belonging. Time. He gives you time, and he sits with you happily, just letting time pass.

Nowadays, your back hurts too much to move. You’ve lived on the same block for nearly forty years. You’ve never changed, yet your neighbors swap like revolving doors. They know you and your husband as the lovely old couple.

You’re shorter now, more fragile. But your husband holds your hand and keeps you safe. Your kids bring your grandkids around.

They’re dressed up in nice clothes and ironed polos. You hand each of them fresh and clean chalkboards, and you write down the year in time to hold it forever.

They love you, they visit regularly. But as time becomes more important to them, suddenly it’s just like how it started. You and him.

You have photos of your grandkids beside the ones of your children on the mantle. You bake cookies for the neighborhood children and hand out candy on halloween. Your husband still sings, he sings to the children and he still sings for you.

Time becomes fragile. It becomes limited. Still, he sits with you, and he lets time pass as you eat. Slower than before, but still steady.

You love him, you’ve never known anything more.

You move out of the old house one day, you can’t live alone. You give it to your middle child and move in with the youngest. She still rushes to finish her food after all these years.

You sit alone now. Your hands are shaky, your time is almost up. You think back to the first time you looked at the sky and noticed the clouds moving. How your heart raced when you saw how quickly they brushed by.

You keep all the old photos up in your small guest room. You don’t have the energy to decorate it anymore. Your grandkids photos are on the dresser beside your kids photos, but you keep a small picture of him on your bedside table, and you kiss it goodnight.

He gave you his time, up until he ran out. You gave him yours, and when he wasn’t there to take it, you gave it to your family.

Time keeps moving, and thats the scary part. It never stops, it never goes back. You can only keep moving forward.

You don’t remember your high school lover anymore. Your memory is poor. You can’t recall the words to your grandfather’s favorite song, and when it gets lonely you miss your father. You get cold some nights and ache for your husband. But life keeps moving.

When you leave, thats all anyone can do. And when the loving warmth of a grandmother is lost, all your family can do is offer each other their time.

[wintersentry]

HIII i love wintersentry. a lot. i have for months so uh. here’s a collection of headcanons of them i’ve made over the past couple months!! (p.s. bear w me i’m new to the whole tumblr thing)

pretty sure a couple people have said this before, but bob is a clothes stealer. 100%. (i’m also obsessed with the idea of him wearing bucky’s red henley. i need to see fanart of this i will explode)

whenever bob has a hard time sleeping and/or wakes up from nightmares, bucky soothes him and his favourite thing to do to distract him from them is to tell him stories, he’ll share dumb stories from when him and steve were kids, and the first time he did it it broke bob out of his trance and sort of confused him a bit when he realised how quickly it took his brain off it. bucky definitely learned the technique from when sam would help him through nightmares. it helps to fill the silence, though

bob was SO awkward when they had their first kiss. he didn’t really know what to say, and he ended up saying something along the lines of “you taste nice” because he didn’t know what else to say. it made bucky laugh for a good 2 minutes, which then embarrassed the hell out of bob, but he definitely comforts him and kisses him some more. just tells him he’s a dork 😭😭 (i also like to think he references this on their wedding day to tease bob)

they are soft. SO INCREDIBLY SOFT. things like sleepy hugs from behind in the mornings, usually when bucky makes breakfast for the rest of the bolts and bob follows him and clings to him. soft kisses on foreheads… couch cuddles while they watch movies, bucky combing through bob’s hair with his hands…

bucky takes note of things bob likes, or if he mentions he wants something he ALWAYS makes sure he gets it for bob. bob could mention one night he wants a specific brand of chocolates, specific flavour, and by the afternoon of the next day there will be a bag of EXACTLY what he wanted bought by bucky.

bucky buys bob flowers. ON EVERY DATE. even sometimes when he makes shopping trips, he might see some really pretty flowers that remind him of bob, and he can’t leave the store without grabbing them for him. because of this habit, they definitely have several vases of flowers spread across their room, but bob will never complain about it.

bucky knows how to dance, bob doesn’t, and he gets embarrassed whenever he tries to. (this does not stop them from dancing to old love songs at 2 in the morning in the light of the refrigerator, never.)

the rest of the bolts found out about bucky and bob’s relationship probably nearly immediately, despite them trying to stay quiet about it, they failed. miserably.

they’re both addicted to instagram shorts. and they send eachother animal videos and cute cat videos. and definitely have spent several hours laying in bed watching them together.

on days when bob doesn’t have the motivation to get out of bed, bucky stays with him. he brings him meals (or gets him takeout if that’s what bob wants) and they watch movies all day together.

whenever they have vacation time, they spend it together and visit different national parks together, they both love exploring nature and hiking together, and they have a scrapbook of their adventures together. bucky always sneaks pictures of bob whenever he gets distracted, because bucky loves capturing bob’s joy.

bucky always finds little trinkets at stores that remind him of bob, so half their bedside table is covered in them.

bucky showing bob how to drive his motorcycle. motorcycle rides in general just to get them both out of the house…

—

very sane about them. SO GLAD PEOPLE ARE FINALLY FINDING THEM AND LOVING THEM !!!! YAAAY

also hi!! this is my first actual post on wintersentry tumblr. nice to meet you all!!! you might recognise me from twitter because that’s where i’m more active (seriously if you search wintersentry on twitter you WILL find me in like 2 seconds 😭) but i wanna try and be more active on here because you are all super cool so… hi!!!! waves!!!

[muzzlemouths]

Well, I can't refuse an excuse to indulge lmao. Some of these explanations will have to remain very brief/vague in an attempt to tiptoe around spoilers, but I'll say as much as I can!

Honorary mention to Killers Walk which won't make it onto this list with an explanation because you know I just put it on here for sillies.

Be prepared for this to get pretty long!

(Don't Fear) the Reaper

This one's obvious, but I do want to mention that the change of parentheses placement was purposeful. (Don't) Fear the Reaper as in do, as in you should, as in you have every reason to fear them, but that "(don't)" is meant to imply a whisper from the reapers themselves. A plead. Please don't be scared of me.

One Way or Another

Also pretty obvious, but this one especially made it on to the playlist because I am struck with visions of an animatic of Sun going ham with his axe/knife on the counselors, montage style, every time it plays. It's just so fitting to how giddy and enthusiastic he is when getting his hands dirty. Then there's the final chorus, "One way, or another, I'm gonna lose ya, I'm gonna give you the slip, I'm gonna trick ya," which will be especially relevant in these coming chapters.

Wolf Boy

The first appearance of a modern song! I normally like to keep my au playlists to the era they take place in (take the Dead Mall Dare playlist, for example), but I had to break that habit for this au because there were just too many songs that fit too well to pass up. This being one of them!

The lyrics feel play a play-by-play of the experience thus far. Y/N has many bones to pick with them (murder being just the start), and they would give anything to just forget about this whole event and go back to how their life was before, but it's never that easy. I think "I ain't gonna play the same" touches on Y/N's refusal to look the other way. They had an opportunity to save themselves if they only played along, but they're playing another game entirely, and they don't intend to lose.

"Wolf boy" itself is undeniably clear (I mean, I literally made a Wolf Among Sheep reference last chapter), especially with the line about a puppy becoming a beast. They've seen how Sun switches on a dime, the way he puts his amicability up on the shelf like a prop, and now that you've made your decision, it's your head on the platter.

"Can you dig what I found?" reminds of moments where they first started putting the puzzle pieces together, and most especially when they discovered Jenn's drivers license. They won't be left alone anymore because they can no longer be trusted not to stick their nose where it doesn't belong.

"You think you're some tough stuff, I hope you're happy now," said after three of their friends have now been put to the blade, one way or another. They still don't understand why Sun enjoys their suffering so much, why it makes him happy to see them panic, and with how smug he's been about it all it's really starting to piss Y/N off. There's only so much empathy one can share with a serial killer before it becomes motive.

"If you're gonna huff and puff, I gotta save this town" because they've finally reached their breaking point, and they're prepared to drive the wolf out of town if they have to do it all on their own.

My favorite part about this song is how the vibe of the final chorus changes — and how sudden the change is. To me, this is the musical version of the moment the Final Girl decides it's time to fight back.

Shout

This one, to me, feels like a one-sided conversation between Sun and Y/N. "These are the things I can do without" being his implications of what he is willing to risk, and what he is willing to lose to get the job done. Because he has nothing left to lose, and that makes for a very dangerous person.

"I hope we live to tell the tale" The fish metaphor. The fish metaphor. You understand. "And when you've taken down your guard, if I could change your mind, I'd really love to break your heart" It bears repeating that he is still convinced he can change your mind, and you'll one day see his side of things. He would love nothing more than to wrap things up here and then live out the rest of your lives together as besties. But both of you know that's not going to happen.

Eyes Without a Face

The first song mentioned in the fic! (Actually, the only song actually mentioned in the fic so far. I gotta remedy that.)

"I'm all out of hope, one more bad dream could bring a fall."

"I spent so much time believing all the lies to keep the dream alive"

"Now all I can do is love what was once so alive and new, but it's gone from your eyes. I'd better realize." What can I say except that this guy is depressed and delusional. I hope you pick up on the themes of this one on your own because I keep trying to come up with ways to articulate why this one is important but I just look like a guy with his theory board and red string. Please tell me you understand. please. please. plea

Hungry Like a Wolf

This one is just for funsies. Something something Wolf and Rabbit dynamic. "Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme" something something he be flipping on that dime again. You get it.

Private Eyes and Somebody's Watching Me

I'm not explaining this one. They're both about stalking and seeing through each other's facades it's not that deep (it is).

Psycho Killer

Come on man.

Dead Man's Party

Oingo Boingo beloved. This one is one of those songs that is a mix of Vibe and Lyrics. Sun would kill somebody to this. It's just bouncy enough to match his vibe perfectly. The lyrics themselves are pretty obvious:

"I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go. Walkin' with a dead man over my shoulder"

"Waiting for an invitation to arrive, goin' to a party where no one's still alive"

"Don't run away, it's only me"

There's more to it of course but alas, spoilers. You'll figure it out.

Dancing With Myself

If DFtR au were a movie this would be on the soundtrack, and yeah, Sun would kill someone to this one too. It makes me think about the times they've made their own company with the forest animals after being made outcasts, and especially when he extends an offer for you to join him— but, ah, that hasn't happened yet, has it?

Personal Jesus

What can I say except that this guy is too smug for his own good, and that kind of self assured vanity can only bring further tragedy. Sun and Moon are convinced that what they're doing is righteous, that it is justified retribution, that they are the heroes of this story. And Sun is personally going to do everything he can to convince you of that.

Bigmouth Strikes Again

"Sweetness, I was only joking when I said I'd like to smash every tooth in your head"

"Sweetness, I was only joking when I said By rights you should be bludgeoned in your bed"

"Now I know how Joan of Arc felt, as the flames rose to her Roman nose and her Walkman started to melt."

This guy is not joking. And his martyr complex is showing.

Tear You Apart

I pointedly look away from the camera. Anyway—

Y'all Want a Single

This one is so self indulgent. I just like to imagine Sun beating the shit out of somebody to this song I'm so sorry. This is the song where he stops playing with his food and just goes balls to the walls.

Who is She

Hey, I drew that vhs poster to this song!

There's just something so eerie about the vibe of this one, and I really enjoy the mental picture it draws of Sun and Moon's opinion of Y/N; how conflicted he is about their presence, how intriguing they are, how their antics are equally exciting and frustrating. This song is about them losing you. You, who they never had to begin with.

#4, Portrait of Mr. Boogie, AHS 1984, The Quarry

Skipping ahead on the list a bit so I can save the best songs for last. These four songs are nothing but atmosphere music for me. They don't personally relate to the story in any way (I mean, they're instrumental, so yknow), and are just songs that I keep on the playlist because I've repeatedly written scenes to them.

#4, specifically, was played while writing out the discovery of Chet's body (for real this time), and I'd like to think it's the song that would play during that scene were this a true slasher film, too.

Run Rabbit Run

Yeah yeah rabbit is in the title. Yeah yeah Moon made reference to this very song in his rhymed threat about a hunter coming for a trapped rabbit. But also this song is immediately relevant to the next chapter :) and I can't say more than that.

Now we're getting into heavy spoiler territory. These next three songs will be kept purposefully vague, but I hope you'll remember them when the time comes that all of it is laid bare.

Disenchanted

This song is about the tragedy. The tragedy that befell the campgrounds, yes, but more so about the tragedy that Sun and Moon endured as a result.

"Well I was there on the day They sold the cause for the queen And when the lights all went out We watched our lives on the screen I hate the ending myself But it started with an alright scene"

"It was the roar of the crowd That gave me heartache to sing It was a lie when they smiled And said, you won't feel a thing And as we ran from the cops We laughed so hard it would sting"

Sun and Moon were never given a chance to prevent this. They were always doomed from the start. When tragedy struck, they could only stand back and watch as decisions were made for them, as their very life was tossed around in conversation like it meant nothing. So they took matters into their own hands, and decided to flip the script.

The outcome has been miserable, but the beginning — their life before that point — was wonderful. It was home.

There's more that has to do with the lyrics further down, but you'll have to wait for the explanation on that until more has been revealed.

Dead Come Talking

Ohhh this one gets me Emotional every time. I can't say too much about it because this song and the one after it are both entirely about Sun and Moon's personal hardships, of which have not yet been properly addressed or revealed in the fic. I will say that the haunting they've forced upon the counselors is a shared experience, something they've personally been enduring for years, already. Sun and Moon are haunted by their past, by their grief, and in that way they themselves are the ghosts haunting the campgrounds.

Spring Break 1899

This is it. This is the most important song on the playlist. This is the song that plays at the end of Act 3. The song that plays when Sun takes in all that he's done, when the carnage sits before him and he's made to face every wrongdoing, every decision and path that has brought him to this point, and come to terms with whether or not he still wants to continue. Whether he has the strength to continue. This is the song that plays when he makes one final choice.

Echoes

The aftermath.

Do you perhaps... have a playlist for dftr?

As a matter of fact, I do 😌

It's a little on the short side at 2 hours because I am very specific with what songs get put on my au playlists, but that means each and every song has been picked with purpose (and I'm still adding more every day).

Also — you're right on the money with that song choice, anon. I don't want to spoil anything, but let's just say it'll soon be very relevant.

[stillfruit]

edward elric, protector of dogs (x)

[kiwikiswia]

pk2 dev'loka/final spoiler(?)

something's coming to where you are

[blackvahana]

Thankyou for answering my question about mindscapes and mental spaces. A follow up question:

How would one go about creating a portal from your mindscape to the astral then? You mention ‘birthing’ it of sorts, would that be a lengthy process? If I don’t set up a portal, can I still make like a temporary one?

The last question is, people mention having homes and pocket spaces in the astral, is this the same as mental space but in the astral, how does one go about obtaining an owned space in the astral that they can alter and change like a mindscape.

Sorry for the lengthy ask, I appreciate your time 💙

No problem at all! Hope it helps, and I'll try to answer this best I can.

I think... it's important first and foremost to solidly understand the difference between the two, and what both feel like.

The issue with answering questions like these is that... well. Look at magic on this plane: One person's answer to "how do you curse" would be rotting froth sea water and whispered sea goddess curses, and another's would be to write their name on fire and burn it. One, both, or neither - more likely neither - is going to suit the person asking especially if say the person asking is a nature witch. Well, they could make it work, both saltwater and fire strangle nature, but... The ways to get things done naturally involve pushing your own self and elements to the cliff between you and the world at large, and another persons way of pushing themselves is probably not going to be yours - especially because elementally, energetically, we all have very different selves

That... Is amplified in the Astral. This is why I sort of... have a "dont teach people unless its in person and in a way I can possess and give visions to directly show" - part of why I made my realm lmfao. I can give you a basics rundown answer to your questions, but its not really... its not like giving baking steps where we both have flour and both have cups and both have ovens

the Basic answers are: yeah. First and foremost practice getting a solid grip on what is astral and what is mental. both exist in the same ALL/universe, like fire and oil, disparate but transmutable into one another if you know how to rearrange atomic structures and... many other things. or you could just set fire to the oil lmfao. Anyway.

Birthing the portal: When you grasp both astral and mental, it's important to understand the link. This can be done through existing in the astral and trying to manifest things, taking thought and idea and weaving it into reality. In the astral, you believing you can fly wont make you be able to like what happens in the mental, to birth wings out of yourself you need to stitch thought with substance. You need to give reality programming - which means you need to be able to grasp reality and walk the path between mental and real.

It's... yeah. hard to explain to someone if theyre not already used to portal work (maybe you are! Im just presuming a baseline level of understanding because i dont want to miss any important details). But the idea is... there is a point where the mental and astral touch. There is mental in the astral. The mental - referencing for a second how i talked about reality shifting and mindspaces and such - is very... accepting of programming. The key issue though is that if you programme "a door to the astral" in the mental without actually literally linking it to the astral, you'll end up with "a door to the astral" that takes you to a simulated astral reality. Thats why i say understanding what the astral feels like and the differences is key

The idea is... to birth a nothing. The astral compared to the mental is a lack of mental. Theres a phrase that Hermes impressed on me with great importance lmfao regarding the mental: "Do not assign features to it." This is essentially saying... just that, if you assign it personhood it will become a person. If you assign it reality it will become real. If you assign it a doorway itll become a door - and you will still be interacting with unreality, just now with a mask. But if you grasp both mental AND astral, and use their shared elements, you can birth a point in reality rather than the mind where... the mental gives way into externality

its. yeah. Its rough to explain. You basically want to create a place where the mental stops having a say in things, and you want to create that in the mental, which means you dont want to Create anything you want to more so make your mindspace a sighing body with you as the breath.

Is it a lengthy process? No, it can take place in an instant if you know what youre doing - Ill say when you know what youre doing because it genuinely is just a matter of practice and getting familiar with the two things. It can happen in an instant because mindspace is... extremely reactive, and mental creation can happen even backwards in time - you could have a portal to the outside thats built by your future self lmfao

I just. would recommend really to leave this kind of thing and just try more so to project or bilocate. The reason I have a portal in my mindspace is uh. it actually goes to the sky in mongolia, which it to say the gelatinous-crystalline window in between God and Creation, which is why the portal exists in the first place. Its way easier - and better for the brain to avoid becoming confused - if one just projects from real to real aka physical to astral - the portal is specifically uh. theres a psychological benefit to going from unreal to real wrt this portal specifically

Yes, you absolutely can make a temporary one! To be honest as much as this might sound counterintuitive, i think its actually both easier (that parts not counterintuitive) and more effective to make a temporary one. Itd be way easier to skirt the mentals tendency to take on the properties of the external (as in to stop it from making a pretend portal outwards) by making it temporary and purely for utility. The mental would probably react more "yes on it boss ill collapse and invert" if you arent trying to forge something mental.

Homes and pocket spaces... I personally - just so we're on the same page, you dont have to agree w this use of the word or use the words like this - i see pocket realms/spaces and realms proper differently. Not even based on size, but function. Effectively.... Theres more types of spacetime than atomic, realms are their own sort of... realities with their own spacetime, pocket realms/pocket spaces are... specifically sort of... uh. Realms are dresses, pocket realms are pockets on those dresses. Dens under trees, in that they tuck into spacetime thats tucked into spacetime

Its definitely possible to realm weave or pocket space weave. I.... im gonna be honest I wont recommend it at all before one's familiar with astral-mental spectrum things. Specifically if you cant tell with pretty high certainty when somethings mental youll probably end up weaving a mental realm which. is. devastating or can be. its devastating to find out your entire territory, people you know and love, and so on are all masks of the mental lmfao ie nonexistent. part of why i want to shoo people away from reality shifting before they have a huge grasp on the mental and the "reality" creation function.

Theres several ways to do it though. My realm is actually woven through... what im going to call gateworking, and chronomancy. Using reality itself as a system of gates, utilising my aspect of the fabric of spacetime to stitch a pattern on my own fabric.... insert one of my selves answering to Yog-Sothoth here, I Am That Which Is And Is Not. Knowledge/data/code-weaving and shit. this is to say that my own experience is. not. going to be applicable to everyone. Ive seen others weave tapestries, or plant seeds in the folds of reality, but at that point you need to know how to programme thread and seed.

I think seeds are... not necessarily the easiest method (realmweaving a stable realm beyond a mental flimsy movie set of a place is already not easy lmfao) but i find them actually the most intuitive type of magic to teach others - as in someone brought it up and im like "huh, yeah, thats good actually". But... then you need to know legitimisation and shit. The process (in my eyes) would be programming a seed, slipping it between the cracks of non-spacetime where theres a necessary gap and set of substances, and "watering" it - this is a good method because it allows the ability to grow something one cant more consciously guide and grow and allows magic to spread virulently into a self-sustaining realm...

But - you specifically asked how one may obtain one... I would really just suggest getting a realmweaver to make you one or... making a claim on someone else's territory lmfao. Obviously that last one is a human social faux pas at best, horrifically selfishly violent at worst, but look. we gore others for their territory all the time over there lmfao

Either way... im sure theres more beginner guides to making these things? But... I genuinely dont recommend beginners get in on this. I kinda do, Ive said before and Ill say it again that for certain species (fae especially, and I am part Void Fae so that checks out) its a third function like growing ones own body and conceiving/growing a child, and... people have a right to their own bodily functions without having to be super knowledgeable on shit

however... theres so much that can go wrong that its... it is possible to grow a realm/pocket reality without -

actually. hold a minute. I hate when people presume competence and skill levels over text. I need to actually clarify what Im talking about here because Im not presuming youre "just some lousy beginner haha im soooo much better than you" type shit I loathe that. So specifically: Im presuming you dont have access to libraries of information in the astral with records of realmweaving + what realms are + the differences between mental and astral, i presume you havent been brought through testing learning by spirits to show you the differences between mental and astral, and i presume you dont have the ability to talk with spirit teachers to have them guiding you along the process... Which is all absolutely possible to get, its just this is basically the level I would suggest being at before realmweaving, and uh. when youre at that level - hence why i presume you arent - generally you learn from those means rather than tumblr. Meant totally neutrally here, i still learn shit from tumblr (and hey i mean clearly im ON tumblr im typing on it right now, this isnt a bad thing)

The dangers specifically are just... Hermes' warnings were specifically about the Mental and oh my god did he impress that on me and boy do i get why. The astral? Worst thing you can go through is probably for the average person being hunted down and having your family slaughtered in front of you and then being killed and having to come back to your body and live with it. Worst thing on average for that same person mentally? Ohhhhh fucking boy. way worse. You could go through all that and have to cope with it not being real - or never find out it wasnt real, and then keep going through it, and then start becoming psychotic irt hallucinations, and then completely lose yourself, lose your ability to interact w any reality, etc. the Mental is..... If you lose your body, you still have your mind. If you lose your mind, you have nothing - and youre still forced to live through having nothing, because if you cant sever your connection to your reality because youre no longer able to tell what reality is... its fucked! Mental is extremely dangerous lmfao

Dont take this as discouragement. Chemicals in a lab can do horrible fucking things to you and fuck you up for life, but you can learn chemistry quite easily if you just. take the steps to do it lmfao. Same with this, skill here is just. learning to navigate risks. Also honestly if you do fuck around to find out you probably wont have anything hugely awful happen, its just... when you get stuck in the mental and cant tell the difference between simulated reality and the mental - which are, 100%, indistinguishably, identical because we perceive reality through the mental, the feeling of and experience of "real" is a mental function uh. anyway

[somedaytakethetime]

He's literally obsessed with kicking the ball at this kid in this fashion lately... show off..

Bonus of my favourite, precious dansk rotte:

[crossbackpoke-check]

56 and any Yamo pairing! 🫶

i just wheezed so hard when i saw what the song was i almost snorted coffee out of my nose i am so sorry for this one

#56 - kyoto phoebe bridgers + yamo

the story of how this song ended up on my wrapped is too long so it’s going in the tags but. let me set the scene for you.

2026 NHL GLOBAL SERIES™️ JAPAN - Presented by YPPI

November 13 & 14, 2026: Dallas Stars, Montreal Canadiens, Seattle Kraken, Vancouver Canucks

Saitama Super Arena, Saitama, Japan

It’s a pitiful excuse of a consolation prize for not being able to go to the Olympics, but Kailer’s not going to look a vacation horse in the mouth. The arena’s cool. It’s huge. The people are cool. There’s so many more of them than he thought there’d be with jerseys that have his name on the back, and a lot more that have the familiar orange and blue. He takes a picture of the fifth Oilers Yamamoto jersey he signs—this one’s the good Reverse Retro—and texts it to Connor, says,

no one here has even heard of mcjesus

and gets a moon face emoji in response. Leon’s influence. Kailer’s still never really deciphered what that one means, and he doesn’t think Connor knows either.

They don’t have a lot of time off between games, but Kailer’s trying to be a good tourist. His dad had been so happy when Kailer had told him about the series that Kailer’d had to stop him from trying to book a flight a year in advance, and his mom’s been just as bad, sending him every article she sees about Best New Spot in Tokyo! Cool Restaurant! Have You Seen This Japanese Cat Café? that she scrolls across on Facebook since June. Suzy’s in the same boat, so they’ve been crossing off their compiled travel-guide list together, looping in as many guys as they can. Everyone’s been pretty game. All the teams are crammed into close quarters at the same hotel, which means everyone wants to spend as much time as possible outside of it, and it helps that Kailer’s gotten pretty close with all the other guys that the NHL picked up as Global Series figureheads. Robo’s memes? Absolutely fire. The groupchat loves them.

For every item he crosses off the list, Kailer takes a picture and keeps it tucked in his phone notes. It’s like speed-running a scavenger hunt—they’re only here for four days—but he’s doing a pretty good job. His favorite so far has been all the gardens. They’re stunning, trees shining bright red and yellow, and every vendor has been selling maple candies, maple cakes, and even fried maple, though the official maple festival doesn’t start until next week. The second garden he visits, he does it on his own after practice, buying two cakes from a cart near the gate and walking until he loses the bustle outside. It’s easy to get lost in the winding pathways, heading deeper into the quiet, and there’s dozens of benches underneath the burnished leaves where young couples are tucked away on dates, or old friends are laughing and catching up. In some of the little clearings, there’s small shrines where people leave offerings, a prayer for good luck or good fortune.

Kailer stops at one without any people and sets the second maple cake on top of it, then sits and scrolls through all the texts that he’s missed. His mom gets replied to with a picture of him outside the garden gate, grinning and surrounded by other travelers. He sends his brother a picture of a trashy graphic I Love Japan t-shirt with the threat that he’ll buy one for him, and Kailer’s dad gets a picture of the meticulously arranged and cut bonsai that are across from the bench where he’s sitting. The Seattle groupchat gets a recycled meme from Robo, and he gets two thumbs up and an “LMAO” before he can even exit the thread. Finally, Kailer takes a picture of the half-eaten maple cake in his hand, holding it next to a fallen maple leaf on the bench, and gets halfway through typing another message before he thinks better of it.

(On the plane over, Drieds was reading them a story about how when they first introduced the high-speed railway, people were afraid to use it because they thought it would be too fast for their souls to keep up.

“Bro, if that were true, you just left your soul in the middle of the Pacific,” Ebs had laughed. “Planes are faster than trains.”

“Are they?” Matty asked. “Isn’t the train in Japan the fastest in the world?”

Drieds couldn’t make it through the rest of the story over the sound of everyone ripping Matty to shreds, so Kailer didn’t get to ask whether or not they found out anything about planes. Kailer’s not worried about his soul, but the logic makes a strange kind of sense; after all, he traveled 429 miles in five and a half hours once, and that was a little too fast for his heart to keep up.)

Fuck it. Kailer’s been trying to write a response for the past ten days, and he’s sick of swiping in and out of the message, staring at the keyboard so long he starts to see swirls in his vision.

Kailer drafts the text again and sends it, no context, no caption. A text travels faster than a high-speed train or a jet. Maybe it’ll pick his heart back up on the way.

[malachitezmeyka]

For once the fact that I, aged 11 through 15, spent most of my free time locking myself in the bathroom to mouth along to songs while practising expressions in the mirror was actually useful

[autistic-harley-quinn]

Y'know given this commentary about "secretly being a Jedi" is very clearly about the whole her repeatedly flagging her own queerness for years on end it would be like if Tay 'lor Spiff kept referencing Jedi works in her music, using the same social cues that the rebellion use to signal to each other that they're part of the rebellion, uses the force onstage while hanging out with obi wan and Mace windu, publicly declared her allegiance to the rebellion, and wore Jedi/rebellion color scheme repeatedly, write several songs about the rebellion will win in the end and she's on their side, had a song making fun of the sith and empire on the setlist of her intergalactic tour, had Jedi friends who publicly hint that she's also a Jedi, and STILL all the people who know being out as a Jedi/Rebellion soldier isn't the safest thing in the world are going

"No clearly she's on the side of the empire and has never once been even a little force sensitive or even a little rebellious. All of those things are coincidences and you're all crazy conspiracy theorists for thinking it's even possible she's a Jedi."

"She's Jedi-baiting you!" Okay then you have to admit that her Jedi friends in the entertainment industry are complicity silent and at times actively participating in the Jedi-baiting, meaning the "real Jedi" you keep telling me to support are helping a sith hint at being a Jedi and hanging out with her like it's fine? That makes more sense to you than maybe she's just not as loud of a Jedi as you've grown used to? I remember when publicly calling yourself a Jedi could get you killed, it still can, we've made great progress in the rebellions acceptance in society but we have not overthrown the empire yet. Do you not remember how in Star wars some rebels were actively fighting out in the daylight as rebels and some were doing other things like gathering supplies, sending aid, political negotiations, corporate dealings? Some may have been force sensitive but never trained in the ways? Some may have become a Jedi but don't say that to everyone they meet?

in my head the star wars equivalent of tswift is some human woman named tay’lor spiff or something and her stans are losing their minds over theories that she’s secretly a jedi singing about the horrors of war, even though she’s from a neutral system that hasn’t seen so much as a moral panic in 50 years

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also figured the way of messing w/latin for a sort of potential fic title would be fun in that google translate could give dubious / varying english versions, for enrichment, but it's really gone above & beyond (with that wrench of google translate's potential for inaccuracy that also probably varies but only contributes. already i was messing w/the phrase itself Inaccurately)

ille cuiquecarus ... that dear one (great)

ille cuique carus ... he is dear to everyone. ((i.e. cuique carus not mashed together) great)

illecui que carus ... i lured you dear (spaced it like that accidentally. great)

ille cui quecarus ... he to whom the quecarus (ask not....spaced it that way on purpose after the above)

ille cui que carus ... that person is dear to whom? (im like, not a whole thread i put in there. the potential wins of having like [that] [to each (which) (to whom)] [dear / treasure] in there to shake up)

[celestial-kestrel]

It's that time of year again where Mari Lwyd starts to be talked about and shared around and an INCREDIBLY misleading post gets shared a lot. As someone who grew up with Mari Lwyd I wanted to clear some things up.

Also hello, if you are unaware who Mari Lwyd is. This is about the Welsh tradition of the horse skull who visits houses during the Christmas to New Years period in Wales asking for alcohol.

First off and probably the most important one:

Mari Lwyd is not a cryptid!

I can not emphasise this enough. She. Is. Not. A. Cryptid. There is no story or mystery about a ghost or zombie horse roaming the Welsh valleys. She's not even supposed to be a ghost or a zombie. It's just a horse skull on a stick with a guy under a sheet. She's a hobbyhorse and a folk character used to tell Welsh stories and keep songs alive. When people spread the misinformation that she's a cryptid, it's the equivalent of saying Kermit the Frog is a cryptid.

She is actually only one character in a wider cast of characters who go door to door or, in more modern times, pub to pub. The cast of characters can change town to town and village to village but there are some common ones I see time and time again. The Leader, the Merryman, The Jester and The Lady are just some I see regularly. Punch and Judy used to be more popular a few years ago but I haven't seen them in a while as their tradition has mostly fallen out of popularity. In most cases, almost the whole cast will be played by men. Even the characters are considered and referred to as female. Though this again depends and varies by which group is partaking in the Mari Lwyd tradition.

This point also goes onto my second point,

Mari Lwyd does not rap.

I think this comes from a very common misunderstanding of what rap is vs spoken word. Rap is a very specific style of music originating from the African American communities of the USA and has it's own structure and motifs unique to it. It's a lot more complex than people give it credit for as a style of music and just flippantly assign anything similar to it as being rap. If someone is talking fast or reciting poetry, it is not rap. Or anything that is an exchange of words between two people is not a rap battle. Mari Lwyd does not do rap, actually something that gets left out of these posts is the fact Mari Lwyd does not even speak. It's actually the Leader, who does all the speaking and song based banter between the house/pub owner for entry. Mari Lwyd just clicks her mouth, bites people and bobs her head around.

I think Mari Lwyd is a really beautiful and unique part of Welsh culture. She's not actually as wildly celebrated as a lot of the posts make her out to be. Actually, I think most Welsh people themselves learn about Mari Lwyd through the internet as well. Her popularity is increasing thanks to the drive of local groups wanting to keep the traditions alive and a renewed desire to document Welsh traditions before they're gone. Which is why it's such a shame that she's turned into something she's not to earn horror points on the internet. I think this is why it bothers me so much to see the misunderstandings of the culture and the folk tradition. Mari Lwyd's origin is very hot debated as well as how long it's been going on for. But I think it's thanks to a lot of traditions like this that the Welsh language and our stories weren't lost forever. Welsh culture is recovering as is the language. But it's still in a very fragile place. I think it's why it's important to document and correct information when it's spread.

Anyway, if you want to see the tradition in action, here's a lovely video from the Cwmafan RFC going to one of the pubs for charity. It includes the song exchange with the pub owner for entry and the whole pub singing and joining in once Mari Lwyd and the rest are inside.

As well with another video from St Fagan's showcasing the more traditional and door to door form with the larger cast.

[rafesangelita]

♡ “have you ever tried this one?” in which kook!sweetheart!reader convinces rafe to take her to go see one of her favorite artists, and as a ‘thank you’ she and rafe have to do whatever position sabrina demo’s for her song “juno”..

warnings: fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink (?)

a/n: so sad because i didn’t get to see sabrina on tour, and she has had me in the meanest chokehold lately :( click this link to see what position i’m referring to <3

when the dates dropped for sabrina’s ‘short n’ sweet’ tour, rafe wasted no time in buying you two tickets. of course, you didn’t know this and begged him for weeks until he finally told you yes, your flight and hotel room already booked for a nice little weekend getaway. rafe helped you make your concert outfit, both of you spending hours on the whole ensemble. the end result was absolutely stunning and rafe couldn’t stop taking pictures of you.

he posted one on the night of the concert, captioning it ‘my little popstar princess <3’ and you two were off to the stadium. while you knew wearing sparkly white platform boots wouldn’t be the best choice to walk in, you stuck it through, and as soon as the lights dimmed and the music started, any kind of discomfort you felt had melted away as you were far too distracted singing along to every song that boomed through the venue.

babydoll lingerie top with pink fluffy trim, dedazzled stockings, glittery makeup, your hair freshly done, rafe swore you never looked prettier. even though he was against wearing anything that sparkled, he decided to wear a plain pink t-shirt to match with you in his own little way. he kept his arms wrapped around your waist as you two sung, having learned the lyrics to every song since you insisted on being in charge of the aux cord whenever you two were in his truck.

eventually, you two were swaying softly, rafe’s chin resting in the curve of your neck as you stroked the skin of his arm. “thank you for bringing me here.” you smiled up at him, connecting your lips as the intro to ‘juno’ started playing. rafe hummed, leaning down so you could hear him. “you know i had to bring you, baby.. what do you say you thank me another way when we get back to our room?” your cheeks heated as you laughed softly.

“yeah, i’d like that,” you pecked his cheek, “how about we do the position she does for the song?” rafe smiled, both of you fixing your attention on the stage. you waited with anticipation, your heart beating in your ears when she bent over and touched her toes. rafe cheered, making you laugh as he couldn’t wait to get you back to the hotel. luckily for him, there was only a few more songs left before the show ended and the two of you rushed out of there.

it wasn’t long after you two walked through the door that rafe had your boots thrown in a forgotten corner, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he took you roughly from behind. you struggled to keep your hands placed on your perfectly pedicured toes, your knees threatening to give out from under you while rafe thrusted into you at an unforgiving pace. “holy fuck, you’re taking it so fuckin’ good, gorgeous, ‘might just let you get off your tippy toes and put you on your back instead.”

you cried out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as his pelvis smacked against the back of your ass. “can’t, rafe!” you shrieked, nearly doubling over before your boyfriend reached down and grabbed your arms, holding you by your wrists as you hung helplessly from his grip. he was fucking you stupid, and your lack of thoughts was proof of it. you couldn’t think, the feeling of rafe’s cock stroking that soft gummy spot inside of you made you whimper pathetically.

finally, you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, your knees meeting the carpeted floor. rafe picked you up, cursing under his breath as he encouraged you to get back in position. “promise i’ll have you in bed soon, pretty, you could hold out for me, yeah?” you shuddered, looking at him from behind your shoulder with that fucked-out gaze he loved so much. you had tears in your eyes, your body glitter still sparkling under the soft lighting.

giving him a little nod, you reached down once again, holding onto your ankles for dear life as rafe circled an arm under your hips, holding you up as his fingers started working on your clit. “oh!” you were in hysterics, your blood rushing to your head as he landed a harsh smack to your backside. “come on, baby, ‘wanna feel this pussy squeeze around me.” you moaned at his words, your orgasm just in arm’s reach as rafe’s thrusts grew uncalculated. “rafe?” you could barely speak, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“talk to me.” he groaned, teetering the edge of pure euphoria. “make me juno?” you giggled for a split second, the insinuation only turning rafe on even more. “fuck, yeah? ‘want me to fill you up, give you a baby?” you let out a distorted “mhmm!’, the two of you gasping when your highs took you both to cloud nine. rafe pulled you back up, your chest rising and falling while your legs shook with your orgasm. pressing wet kisses to your neck, rafe did exactly as he said, his hips stuttering as hot, thick ropes of cum painted your velvety walls.

you two stayed like this, pressed against one another until your breathing slowed, the aftershocks subsiding before rafe laid you both down in bed. “we should have a ‘short n’ sweet’ themed baby shower.. we could serve espressos.” rafe laughed, draping an arm over your tummy. “we’ll see.” he hummed. your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed him in, his cologne still heavy on his skin. “you know what we should try when we get back home?” rafe traced shapes into your side, mumbling a ‘what’s that?’

“pink fuzzy handcuffs.”

[inkskinned]

i love finding out how big this world is. my girlfriend has only visited boston a handful of times, but i grew up here. i told her we'd be going to do the tourist traps in salem, and she said - which salem?

to be fair to her, there are a lot of other states that have a town named "salem." and i think there's some evidence that the witch trials actually happened in what is now called Danvers. but the thing is - she thought "salem" was like, a made-up thing. there wasn't actually a salem, massachusetts - like there isn't a gotham city.

they don't talk about it that much where she grew up, is the thing! and this made me laugh. a week ago she was talking about her hometown and said something akin to "well the museum's kinda like the one in richmond," and i had to explain i still had no frame of reference for what the hell this museum was like.

i love finding out what knowledge i take for granted. i used to live with 5 other women. 3 of them were from south korea. they had to take, like, a solid fifteen minutes to explain their birthday system to my gay math-blind ass, laughing as they did.

that same month, our roommate from denmark taught me the danish word for wreath by accident - she'd been talking about decorations, used krans, and i'd been able to figure it out through context. i just picked it up and kept talking. our entire house used krans as the word. she came home and slammed the door one evening, mock-angry, shouting: you motherfuckers! it's a - a wreath!

and how often do you use certain words, anyway! i am cuban, so i was raised with certain spanish words sort of sprinkled in there; but never how you'd think. in middle school i asked someone to pass me the recogedor - in a completely american accent, like i was speaking english. i hadn't registered it as a spanish word. i mean, how often in school do you actually use the word "dustpan" - i'd only ever heard it in the context of cleaning my house.

there are places that you grew up that you, just, like, know. that you assume everyone knows. there are things and people and "common knowledge" that you have that, just, like. doesn't exist for me. i don't know what you call your public transportation system, but in boston we call it "the T". our train cards are called charlie cards because of a song where a father accidentally abandons his family, which was written because our system of transportation. in boston, most people would snort and say everyone knows that, kid.

i think you and i should go on a long walk - it's getting dark early these days and we need any sun we can manage. tell me about the first time you saw snow. tell me about the stuff everyone knows about your home. tell me about the cities "everyone's been to," about the food "everyone's already tried." who knows. maybe it will feel nice to you - watching someone learn about it for the very first time.

[vanilleandclove]

how to disappear; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

pittsburgh is roughly 58 square miles, large hospitals in metropolitans are usually 1.2 million square feet. only making ptmc extremely confining with a certain trauma surgeon and senior attending physician in the emergency room especially during hostility.

warnings: emotionally constipated adults, language, talks of children and marriage, semi-medical accuracies (i have several immediate family members in the medical field, this is basically in my regular lexicon), gore adjacent, mentions of past sex, age gap: reader is 30-33, jack is 47-49. word count: 4.1k notes: mdni. call me disorganized, my oc fic is on HOLD, until further notice :3. this is part one of two (?) ask/requests are open!

prev - next

“I thought you were working day shift?” Parker asked, your eyes blinked roughly as they adjusted to the bright light of the patient’s board, “What’re you doing stuck down here?”.

“They requested for me to have a change of schedule to be on-call, couldn’t say no to the generous pay raise” you responded, cocking your head slightly to meet eyes with Parker, “Plus night shift always gets the most carnage”.

“You’re sick, you know that?” Parker chuckled, fist meeting your shoulder playfully before she walked off. 

Clipping on your hospital ID was muscle memory, both Heather and Robby referred to as “overworker’s disease”, you saw it as being stuck in the place for several years at a time.

You needed a vacation, sweaty hot sex, vodka, or weed; or maybe just all of those in that order. Your eyes were glossed over from the eyedrops you have administered before leaving Jack’s house, they did good to conceal the hours of crying and bloodshot eyes. 

But Bridget saw through that puffiness and reoccurring sniffle that matched the pout of your lips, she knew you well like you were her own daughter. She knew your breathing patterns were shallow and uneven, the eyebags that became a more pigmented purple, the constant fiddling of your rings. 

She knew you needed a break, a break in bed where you could cry it out and come back renewed with extra hours of sleep and extra takeout. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Bridget inquired, taking off her glasses and tucking them in her scrub undershirt, “You seem out of it”.

Your eyes darted towards her and all you could give her was a nod as you became tight lipped, worried that if you unclench your jaw for a second you’d break. Nevertheless, Bridget smiled and rested her hand on yours, knowing all too well what happened to you. 

What Bridget saw was your hair blown out but tucked up a tortoiseshell claw clip for it to be out of your way. She saw manicured short french tip nails, residue of black eyeliner in your waterline, hints of matte red lipstick that must have been taken off in a rush as it made your lips look as if they were bleeding. She saw gold bracelets of all different textures and patterns, rings stacked beautifully and meticulously, necklaces that would accentuate cleavage with the right dress, diamond earrings that twinkled when moving under the LED lights. 

She saw a woman who had just got stood up. 

“Good evening everybody”.

And she just stumbled upon the reason. 

You closed your eyes and sighed under your breath. 

Luckily being a different specialty department, you weren’t required to be given the gist of speeches by the physicians and nurses. Some may say it due to surgeons being “above”, you say it’s because of different structures in departments- you can learn just as much during rounds in the emergency room as you would post-op, if not, you’ll learn more. Therefore you were able to walk off into the bathroom.

You enjoyed your job, you were grateful for your job that led you to places you never thought you would be. You were grateful for the smiles, the laughter, the songs the patient requested to be played during surgery, the parents or loved ones that would hug you tight, and yes, the gore and carnage. 

You were also grateful that it led you to Abbot. 23, you were fresh out of an internship in Massachusetts, then you wanted a change of scenery. By 26, frequent hookups at your respective places were a casual way to start, end, and continue a week; just in time for your residency to finish and your fellowship to be fast-tracked due your rotations in the emergency department and competency exams. Hookups turned to dating by your 27th birthday, months later, Jack’s house was basically yours too. Now, you’re the attending who’s trying her hardest to hold it all in because a man decided no more to the most constant thing in your chaotic life- in a chaotic profession. 

You had put on a silk dress that flowed perfectly enough to accentuate your curves, you wore lingerie, black heels, and smelt fucking amazing. You shaved, you wore your expensive lotion you could only justify using on special occasions, you wore jewelry you’ve collected over the years and that Jack had given you. You went the whole 9 yards and more. 

“Okay so what is it?” you asked, sighing in defeat and barefooted in the living room, “You don’t want to go out, don’t want to talk about something you know I care about. Fuck Jack, you don’t even look at me when you know this is important”. 

“Sorry I didn’t know dinner reservations were imperative to having a conversation with you” Jack scoffed, stressed and unnerved, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Jesus christ just forget about dinner!” you raised your voice, your throat began to slowly burn, “I don’t care about dinner Jack. I care about being appreciated from my boyfriend when I put on a fucking dress and heels. I care about you walking into that door every morning and kissing me. I care about having sex and ordering fucking pizza” you ranted, your time was almost up as it crept closer to your shift.

“Do you want kids?” he blurted.

“What?”.

“Do. you. want kids?”.

You blinked in confusion, swallowing whatever you had planned to say and again to collect what he had just proposed. “I would like to have kids but with my job and yours, that seems unlikely. I don’t mind not having them”. 

“There was a positive test in the trash two weeks ago that you didn’t think to tell me about” he cleared his throat. 

Your brows furrowed, “It was a false positive, Heather did a work up with full labs for me” you looked to the ground not noting that it would’ve also been nice for him to know both of those things. “If a pregnancy test is sending you to avoid me like the plague; we have a bigger issue here Jack”. 

“It would’ve been nice to know that you were afraid you were pregnant that you told Collins before me”. 

“Do you think I’m punishing you for withholding information that was irrelevant to me after a day?” you were shocked almost, still confused at the hostility, “I wasn’t afraid of being pregnant, I was afraid of false hope”.

“I don’t want kids, that’s just not something I see in my future”.

“Our future” your voice began to crack more and more. Kids weren’t a dealbreaker by any means, the way Jack worded it to be something exclusionary in regards to you is what broke you. “I need you to tell me if this is what’s causing you fucking hurt me”. 

“It’s not- I just think we have a misconstrued view on the future of this” he pointed to both of you back and forth. 

“Jack forget about the sheer possibility of kids, why are you being distant?” you took a step closer as he took a step back, the action only shattering your heart more, the tears began to flow as you straightened your back, “What about marriage?”.

“Same as kids”.

You nodded, looking away from him, “I’m not going to change your opinions about either of those, I’m not going to try”. You inhaled before a sob erupted from your throat, “I have to be able to want those things without feeling like you’re going to walk away. God, you never once spoke about this before so why now? Why all of the sudden vows and kids are a dealbreaker when- if I remember this correctly- the past year you’ve been asking for baby names and what rings I would like? Was it just for show? Was I just for show?”.

“Of course you weren't,” he sighed yet again, his eyes piercing yours, “You’re you, I guarantee you’ll find someone else who wants both of those”. 

“I don’t want someone else Jack” you whispered, one tone louder and you’ll be a wreck in front of him. 

Silence creeped over the room and nothing but the shudder of your breath filled the room, “I guess this isn’t working” his own voice cracked as if his mind betrayed his actions. With that, years of your heart shattered.

“I guess not”. 

Jack was the same guy who held your legs as they rested on his during football games. The guy who tied the strings of dresses and kissed your shoulder, who stared in awe while you did your makeup, baked and cooked with you, danced to his best effort with you. Watched ‘Game of Thrones’ and ‘House of the Dragon’ with you every sunday without fail, not shy of commentary. 

He would fix your hair after sex, clean you up in the en-suite with warm water, would make your toes curl around his waist as an orgasm washed over you, would coax another orgasm out of you. He would massage your clit, knew exactly where your g-spot sat, made your breath hitch and your eyes roll back. He never pressured, only asked a near sixty times if you were okay and comfortable. He would never degrade you even if asked, the most he’d do would be spitting in your mouth and lightly choking you. Wasn’t shy about having his dog tags pulled or you wearing them, loved the twinkle in your eye every time his cock grazed the right spot. The man was a dog. If you forgot an undershirt under your scrubs, his cock would strain from the veins coating your breasts, the slightest graze would send him on a frenzy when you’d get home if both of you were up for it, loved the lingerie just as much as he loved you in pajamas and a worn out shirt from college. 

The same guy that would squeeze the back of your neck to relieve your worries, text you mid-shift about your wedgie and would fix said wedgie in passing, would wash your hair and body. Would watch every movie and TV show with a thousand questions, stare idly at you during every get-together as you mingled on your own with Heather. Every Fourth of July he spent with you, he was at ease, not jumpy or had his heart racing- you thanked therapy, he thanked you. 

He’d stand in front of you and be the same guy during company basketball and baseball games that coached you on the sidelines, guided your arm, gave you water. You wanted to marry him, your parents always said when you do get married, it should be with someone like him if not him. You wanted rings, his and her matching towels, garter tosses and to take off his suit in the same night. He knew that, hell the whole emergency department was well aware of your dream wedding that changed every now and then.

Now you stand there beneath yourself because that is all gone on a random Wednesday. Didn’t wait for the weekend for it to settle, for hell to freeze over. While you went crazy thinking the worst, you had a job to do, and it was barely August. 

Luckily, new staff and medical students were reserved for day shift, meaning you were secretly praying for both Robby and Collins sake. 

“We have a male MVC victim, 10 minutes out, Abbot wanted you on standby” Parker opened the bathroom door only to be greeted with your meltdown, “You okay? Want water or coffee?”.

You shook your head only for her to fully allow herself in, “You and I both know the way you’re crying is going to lead you to dehydrate” she continued, “What happened?”.

“We broke up” you responded, curt and without remorse, “I don’t want to talk about it”.

“Okay, but just know you can always go home”. 

“He’s home”.

You spent two minutes in there trying to gain your composure, worried that the MVC wouldn’t get the most accurate and resourceful amount of care with you like this. Splashing water against your face before exiting and being greeted with the beaming emergency department lights. 

You checked up on three different patients, smiling and asking if they were comfortable and okay with waiting just in case the MVC took up more time than usual. As you left the last, the MVC arrived and both you and Abbot occupied opposite sides of the gurney. 

The EMTs were able to stabilize him as much as they could, “Breath sounds are good so far a little too crackly but acceptable, there’s rigidity in his abdomen I need an chest scan to confirm bruising- I’ll call they always fast track me” you told Jack as you approached the trauma room, grabbing the phone as he took over, “Hey it’s Doctor L/n, I need a chest CT for a MVC victim, his abdomen is rigid and slightly distended with crackly breathing. No- I need you to take me up now, we’re already in a trauma room- okay, thank you see you there”. 

Turning back to Jack, evening out the creases in your navy scrubs, “They’ll take him now, I’ll take him up” you whispered, grabbing a hold of the gurney from the bottom, “Can you open the doors?” you asked, “Get Walsh for me too, if it’s something with his abdomen I shouldn’t do exploratory”. 

“You don’t only do exploratory surgery Y/n” Jack posed the statement as if you were undermining yourself for Walsh to be the scalpel junkie this shift.

“I know, Walsh is still learning the ways of being an attending, if anything I’m making sure she’s equipped to be in my stead when I’m not here” you argued back only for the MVC victim to regain his consciousness, “I know what I’m doing Doctor Abbot”.

“This morning it was babe, by the afternoon it was Jack, now it’s Doctor Abbot?” he queried, as if the whole ‘I guess this isn’t working’ bit was a skit. 

“Last time I checked this wasn’t-“ you looked down to the gurney to see a conscious man with a smile on his face, “Good evening sir, I’m Doctor L/n, you’re at Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, I will be taking you up to CT now” you feigned a smile and eyed Jack, he knew that look.

The ‘we’ll talk about it later’ look. 

“You’re in good hands sir” Jack waved off. 

The elevator ride was calming, the tension in the trauma was thick enough to cut with a knife. You learned his name was Raymond Orser, he had a wife and a daughter, served a couple tours in the military, his sister lived in Pittsburgh while he lived in Philly. 

“So, what was the deal between you and salt and pepper?” Raymond asked, his breathing less labored as you both exited out of the elevator.

“Salt and pepper? Doctor Abbot?”.

“Or babe whichever you prefer” Raymomd joked, “Must’ve been a tough fight, my wife and I were the poster board for marital arguments about silly things- one time after my daughter was born we argued about the way the cereal box closed”. 

“He’s not my husband Mr. Orser, technically he’s just a colleague” you told him. Eyeing around you to see who was there, “We dated for 6 years today, it’s our anniversary, was supposed to wine and dine him before our shift but…”.

“Ah. You know, I’m only 39. I’ve spent a great deal of it loving my wife before I had even met her." You made a face that exuded confusion, “I know you’re looking at me crazy, but you just know. When’d you meet Doctor Abbot?”.

“When I was 23, about to be 24, he was also relatively new; he beat me by 3 years. Didn’t start dating until I was 27 and he was 41” you confessed, “What about you huh? How old is your daughter?”.

“She’s seven, had her after I got discharged. My wife and I had a shotgun wedding, very intimate”.

“Okay, we are just about to go into CT, I’ll be on the imaging side, you’re going to feel a little fluid in your IV, it’s to highlight and pinpoint what’s going on internally. I need to know if there’s any metal on you like jewelry below or above the waistline”.

“No, just my wedding ring”.

“That’s fine, this arm is going to stay up away from the imaging zone for the ‘highlighting fluid’, you’re going to feel a bit warm throughout your body, completely normal. If you feel nauseated it’s also pretty normal, we keep a wastebasket on standby so no worries” you clarified, giving him a smile before handing him off to the nurses. 

Going into the radiology room, both the radiologist and technician glanced over to you, “Good evening” you greeted, “His abdomen was rigid and slightly distended, did Foreman tell either of you?”.

They both nodded, putting on their glasses and administering the contrast fluid. “Any plans for the morning L/n? You and Abbot are celebrating your anniversary today, no?” Jackie the radiologist asked, her hand not leaving the mouse and her eyes leaving the desktop.

You shuddered under your breath, inhaling deeply, “Yeah, might just stay in today”.

As the scans progressed one thing became clearer, there was a bleed in Raymond’s organs, non-septic, but still worrisome. You immediately grabbed the intercom mic, “Okay Ray, the nurses are going to get you settled back downstairs for a work up, I’ll go over your scans with Doctor Abbot”.

Turning to the left you grabbed the phone on the desk and dialed for the emergency department, “Hi Bridget, I’m sending Orser down, the MVC victim. He has a rib fracture that's causing internal bleeding, a tension pneumo but his breathing sounds were clear- lightly shallow” you cleared your throat, “Tell Abbot to do a finger thoracostomy, I’ll meet him down there”.

Afterwards you phoned the surgical wing, “Good evening, I need an OR available on standby, I have a MVC victim with a tension pneumothorax and internal bleeding”.

Some days cardio and general hogged the ORs, trauma and the emergency department always had an OR prepped in the morning shifts. Gloria liked to boast about her surgical teams, how each specialty had their own set OR.

Heading down to the emergency room, it was less chaotic on the surface- the waiting room said otherwise. Every room was filled minus the trauma rooms, the hallway had spillover, and curtains were drawn. You decided to take your leave to peds, being greeted with a little girl with a rattling cough.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor L/n, who is this princess?” you greeted, snapping on your gloves.

“Your scrubs are different” the girl mentioned mid cough.

“Sorry, this is Amanda, she’s been having this ugly cough for two weeks, she woke up choking on phlegm” a woman spoke up, “I’m her aunt, her mom’s on her way”.

“Ah okay, well, Amanda, my scrubs are different because I’m a surgeon here. Don’t worry, you’re not a surgical case, I just help down here” you clarified, putting your stethoscope on her chest, “Did she cough up phlegm, if so what color?”.

“It was brown, though in the car she had a cough attack and I swear I saw red”. 

“Any history of asthma? Was she around any strong fumes?” you asked, “Amanda can you give me two big inhales and exhales?” you requested, putting your stethoscope on the girl’s back. As she inhaled and exhaled, all you heard was rattling.

“My sister- her mom has asthma, nothing too serious, she self carries though. Mandy got sick last week, her fever was moderate but she sweated a lot of it off during her sleep”. 

You nodded, putting your stethoscope back around your neck, “I’m going to order a chest x-ray, from the sounds of it, Mandy here has acute bronchitis, probably from a viral infection that went unnoticed” you smiled to them both, “Is she allergic to paracetamol or ibuprofen?”.

“No, just soy”.

“Perfect, due to her age, I’ll prescribe extra strength Tylenol and an albuterol inhaler, two puffs about 5 seconds apart when needed to stabilize your lungs sweetie” you told her aunt, walking out to tell Bridget for an x-ray on Amanda. 

“Abbot’s asking for you in south 14” Bridget said as you walked off, all you gave was a nod.

Opening the door and being met with a scene you would not have guessed to stumble upon out of the confines of your home. “Bridget said you wanted to see me?”.

“I’m not a prideful man” he sighed, you moved closer to the hospital bed he sat on, his prosthetic beside him, he was rubbing a cream on his stump- it smelt like eucalyptus. Jack never complained of phantom limb pain, though his hip would hurt every now and then. “But I do know that I am self-conscious”.

You remained silent, allowing Jack to speak. You did most of the talking earlier, now, it’s his turn. “I don’t know if I’ll be a good dad, weddings require some level of dancing that I just can’t put aside that difference to give to you- and I want to, I can’t shake that feeling” he sucked in a deep breath, “There are days where I have coax myself off the ledge, today being one of them”.

“Jack I-” you sighed in disbelief, “I don’t care about those things- ever- you’re not taking away anything by us not having kids or not getting married-”.

“You want those things”.

“There was a point in my life where I wanted you, one thing I know for certain, I never regretted it. Though I would’ve regretted not doing anything, you gave me the best sex of my life” you joked lightly, “If loving you and being with you means I don’t get a wedding or kids, then I’m okay with that. Though, you would be one hell of dilf”.

He chuckled at the comment, “Shit, I’d be in my 60s by the time the kid was in high school”. 

“Still my sexy man” you commented, “I love you okay? But we have a job to get to and a vet who is keen on you”.

“Orser?” Jack questioned as he stood up with your assistance, popping his prosthetic back into place. You nodded, giving him a longing look, “I can’t kiss you- wouldn’t be able to stop”.

“Yeah yeah, happy anniversary cowboy” you smiled, feeling your phone vibrate with a page to the OR, “Shit, emergency surgery”.

“I love you cowgirl” Jack spoke up as you ran off. It was already 4:30 in the morning, the heat kept piling up. 

The surgery was needed for a thoracotomy on a 67 year old who took a fall down her stairs which caused a cardiac tamponade, it took 2 hours and 40 minutes to repair, drain and control her hemorrhage. Caught early, it took less time than usual. You reeked of pungent acid with a hint of metal from the blood, afraid it was stuck in your hair.

Luckily your shift was over 10 minutes ago, you gathered your things and looked around for Jack, being greeted with Heather and Frank.

“Dana, have you seen Jack? Good morning to you all” you stretched, looking around to see no sight of Jack or Robby.

“Up on the roof with Robby”.

“Jesus, the midlife crisis twins” Frank joked under his breath, only to be met with the dirty looks of you and Heather.

“When he comes down tell him I’m in the truck” you sighed, tapping on the desk before letting your hair down from the clip that has held up your hair through blood and way too many body fluids.

dividers by @cafekitsune