#currently shaking pretty bad and have a massive migraine

[neonsix67]

Got extremely bored so Spot pointed out that I should draw something I brought up earlier I'm the week. The idea to redesign some of the Hazbin Hotel characters, and since I had no rebuttal otherwise, I did.

Started out trying to do Angel as prompted by Spot, but really couldn't do it at first, so I skipped and decided to do Vox (I love his design and character so much...) and kinda took off. Don't get me wrong, I know he is very overdetailed, and I nearly hated every second of it. But now I kinda look at it and enjoy that I pushed through because right after finishing his lining I flipped the page and began on Angel again, which came out WAY better than my initial 5 attempts. Then for the sake of being on a roll I did nifty as well since that's also one Spot and I talked about redesigning.

Also these are done traditionally, I was called out a little for it because I was pretty sure I wanted to digitalize a sketch or two...but because of my lack of energy decided against it.

Overall, these are not designs I'm super proud of, but I am certainly very glad I got them out despite the lack of inspiration and motivation.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Harry's Massive Shower Migraine

AN: so in my last fic where Harry had a migraine and ended up sucking readers breasts, i wrote a part of him in the shower and wishing you were awake to help him bathe, well i decided to write a whole blurb on that specifically. i proof read this in under 20 minutes so please don't pay no mind to mistakes i may have missed.

This story contains: migraine pain, crying, mild vomit, lot of comfort

{ husband!harry - no kids - softrry - harry's house era }

word count: 1,491

Harry takes a shower with a massive migraine and it gets so bad that he ends up on the floor of the shower, sobbing. You come in shortly after and once you see the state he's in, help bathe your husband before putting him to bed.

Your mother had called a few minutes ago to talk to you and catch up on life, beings you live a very far distance from her currently, and Harry wanted to give you some privacy. So he decided to go upstairs and take a shower to bypass the time. He also was having a pretty bad migraine and was hoping the steam from the shower would sooth his splitting head.

Once Harry got into your master bathroom, he stripped from his casual day clothes that he'd been lounging around the house in and stepped into the walk-in shower. At first his shower was going as well as it could go for someone with a migraine, but then it took a very bad turn. All the sudden it felt like someone had hit Harry upside the head and it had his knees buckling and him nearly collapsing to the tiled floor.

Luckily he caught himself before he busted his knees open but nevertheless ended up on the floor of the shower, legs bent at the knees with his head cradled in his large hands. Harry had tears running down his already wet cheeks and was in so much pain that he thought he may never make it out the shower. Sure Harry has had headaches and migraines before but this was nearly unbearable.

Harry has never felt more vulnerable in his life, he thinks to himself. Basically balled up on the shower floor, completely naked, having shampoo still in his hair, and sobbing. He wanted to yell, do anything to get you to come to him, but he wouldn't be able to bare the loudness of his own voice if he tried. So he sits, maybe ten or maybe thirty minutes until you decide to come check on him.

The call had ended with your mom and you knew Harry had been in the shower longer then he usually was, or at least it felt like it. You thought if he was still in the shower that maybe he was pleasuring himself, which you aren't against but would have liked to be the one doing the pleasuring. But when you finally make it to the cracked open door of the bathroom, you hear something far from euphoric moans. You hear sobbing.

You quickly push the door open and are met with a sight you hope to never have to see again. Harry sat in the shower with his knees propped up and his head bent between his lengthy legs. His whole body shakes with each cry that escaped his mouth as the warm water cascades over him entirely. You step closer and right as you go to ask what was wrong, Harry reaches up slightly and presses his hands to his ears, presumably to minimize the noise your voice may make.

Now it clicks for you, Harry has a migraine. You've dealt with his migraines all through-out your marriage and even before but have never seen him act this bad over one. "Oh, babe." you coo in a sad, whispered tone, taking quiet steps to get closer to him. You click open the glass doors of the shower and kneels down in front, not sure what to do next.

"Head hurts so bad." Harry heaves, feeling embarrassed you had to see him like this, but knowing you're his wife and its okay to be this vulnerable sometimes in front of each other.

You stand up and without much thought, tug your clothes off so that you can be equally as naked as your husband. And so your clothes didn't get soaked. Then once you're clothes free, you step into the shower and kneel down directly in front of him. You lean forward and encase your arms around his fragile body and just gently rock him back and forth.

That's when you notice the shampoo left in parts of Harry's hair and your heart breaks even further at the thought of him not even being able to finish something as simple as washing his own hair without crumbling in pain. Making sure you're talking super quietly, you mutter in his left ear, "Let me help you bathe and then we can get out and cuddle in bed. Go to sleep early, yeah."

Harry was going to verbally reply but the pain in his head got so strong that it was making him quite nausous. That doesn't happen often with his migraines but when it does, he usually always ends up puking. You worry for a moment when he doesn't agree to your plan but when you see Harry jerk his head to the opposite side you were on, it doesn't take long for you to realize what's happening.

He harshly dry heaves over the floor of the shower before actual bile comes up, splattering on the tiles. Luckily you're in a shower so the vomit runs right down the drain but it doesn't take the fact of it still being gross away. "Shh," you comfort while rubbing up and down his slick back, "it's okay. Get it all up if you feel you need too."

Harry throws up approximately twice more before lifting his head and imidiantly apologizing, "Sorry 'bout that. S'just that pain in m'head was making me nausous. God I'm gross."

"No Harry, do not apologize over something you can't control. It's okay that you got sick. At least we are already in the shower, alright. No need to worry. Think you're ready for me to help wash you up?" you respond and end with asking him a question.

"Yes please." Harry said weakly with a hoarse voice from just being sick. You stand to your feet and grab the detachable shower head before crouching down again and helping him tilt his head back. Carefully, you allow the warm water to flow through Harry's soapy locks and rinse out any ruminates of shampoo he was unable to rinse himself. He signs at the relaxing touch you're giving to him even though his headache is still present.

After you've fully rinsed the shampoo out of Harry's hair, you place the shower head down and grab his luffa. You add his floral body wash, yes your husband uses floral scented soap, and reach down to run the sudsy luffa over his skin. Its a bit of a struggle but you manage to gently tug his body the way you need him to be so you can properly wash him. At the end, you help him stand completely so his bum and soft penis can get cleaned.

You ask Harry if he wants to do it himself or if he wants you to be the one and he muttered a low, "You." So with his consent, you washed over his ass and carefully his cock and balls. Harry was in so much pain that he wouldn't get hard from your touch if he tried. Then a few minutes later, you're completely finished bathing him and you turn the shower off.

Harry leans heavily on your body as you help him step out the walk-in shower. "Go sit on the closed toilet, baby." you instruct him and he does as told. You come over towards Harry with the towel he left out earlier and begin drying him off.

----------------------------------

It took about twenty minutes for you to dry, change, and help him brush his teeth before you got Harry into bed. As well as drying yourself off and putting your own pajamas on. You tucked him in the duvet nicely and ran down stairs to fetch him some pain pills along with a glass of water and a protein bar so his stomach wouldn't become upset again.

When you get back to the bedroom, you help Harry sit up, now realizing you did all that tucking for no reason, and give him the pills that should help take his migraine away. Then you peel open the protein bar package and Harry nibbles on it before pushing it away, saying he's full. You put the protein bar on his side table next to his water and place a kiss to his forehead before turning all the lights out and getting into bed with him.

You pull Harry close to you and he places his head on your shoulder gently. The exhaustion from sobbing and being sick is catching up to him and it isn't long before Harry is softly snoring in your warm neck. Holding him tightly to your body, you kiss his soft forehead and pull the blankets up your bodies before falling asleep as well.

Harry may be embarrassed you had to see him so weak today, but is so very thankful to have a wife that doesn't even hesitate to help him in his most vulnerable times. And of course you hate watching Harry be so weak but you'd do it a million times over if that meant you were caring for your love.

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My Masterlist Masterpost

[tenkasato]

Inebriated

Scenario: In which one Levi Ackerman wakes up with a massive migraine, a stranger on top of him and with no recollection of what happened the night before.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x reader

He came to with the ball of warmth snuggling into him. 

The first thing he registered when he opened his eyes was the phenomenal headache that squeezed his skull in a vice. One jerk of his head was enough to send an onslaught of pounding, throbbing pain that blotched his vision with white. Levi resorted to scanning the place with his squinted eyes. To his great relief, he was at home and in his own bed. 

The next thing he noticed was the weight resting on top of him. Blinking, he could make out your sleeping form, your hand balled around his shirt, breath steady and comfortable.

He couldn't see your face. He tried to peer at what you were wearing (or if you were wearing anything at all). You both have your clothes on. Again, much to his relief.

Now, to the most important matter at hand: what the fuck happened last night?

Levi was busy wracking up his hazy memories when you stirred in your sleep. You raised your head to meet him, a lazy smile smeared over your lips. Levi's eyes widened at the sight, his cheeks taking up some heat. 

"Good morning, Levi," came your hoarse voice, "I'll get you some breakfast."

You pushed off of him before he could ask who you were and headed out his room. He trailed after you and found you starting up the fire to boil water, humming an unfamiliar tune as you did so. You paced around the kitchen to grab some eggs, bread and avocados.

Levi looked around his place. Nothing seemed to be amiss. He noticed your clothes hanging by the comfort room, wrung dry but still damp from the looks of it. He hastily tore his eyes from your red underwear and crossed his arms. 

"You're right about your boss," you piped up as you mashed the avocados in a bowl. You were wearing his gray shirt and pajamas, his clothes loosely hugging your figure. "Erwin, was it? Seems to me he's too idealistic to be true. He's probably more human than many make out to be."

He slumped on the chair. He told you about Erwin? 

"And even though you speak like you're annoyed with Hange, it's obvious how fond you are of your superior. And your so-called 'brats'. Goodness, Levi, you sounded like a doting father. You even went with the new recruits to the bar when you hated the crowd and smell."

You checked the eggs, then the toasts before you went on with watering his house plants. A cup for the snake plant. Two puffs of mist for the fittonia. All the while, his mind raced. You spoke with such a familiarity one would’ve had if you’ve known each other for so long. 

You even watered the plants just as how he did. And even prepared his favorite breakfast and tea. How much did he tell you?

Just what the actual fuck happened?

He could vaguely remember drinking some whiskey as he had watched Jean flirt around with a pair of girls at the counter. He could remember telling Eren off when the brat was already flushing beetroot. He could remember Sasha stuffing her face with smoked ham sandwiches, and so on, and so on. Then he remembered.

You had been sitting on one of the stools, looking forlorn with a glass of martini in your hand. The frown on your face, and the harsh light from the dance floor. Your glassy eyes had met his for a flitting second… and… and then—and then what?

He did not have any recollection of talking to you, much more—sharing a passionate night with you. 

“Thank you for making me feel good last night,” you told him, as if reading his thoughts.

Levi’s head snapped to your direction so fast you thought he’d break his neck. You took your seat across him and flashed him a bright smile before pushing the plate of avocado toasts to him. 

“You were so skilled in bringing it out of me,” you chuckled and winked. “Makes me think how experienced you are with women like me.”

Levi imagined pressing his lips against yours, holding your waist to deepen the kiss. He pictured laying you down on his bed, sinking his teeth into the juncture of your neck with you gasping and arching into him. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, shaking his head to ward off those images. He squirmed on his seat and opted instead to focus on the sunny-side-ups on the toast.  

“Let's do this again next time if you are alright with it,” you continued, eliciting a cough from him. You squeezed his hand, oblivious to his discomfort before sipping some tea. 

“I'm sorry but no,” he rasped. He unevenly met your surprised albeit hurt stare. “I don't engage into that sort of relationship especially since I hardly know you. Look, what happened last night... We were probably both drunk. So I sincerely hope I didn't put anything in your head, because I didn’t intend to.”

Your eyebrows knitted in puzzlement. 

A few seconds passed but you merely gazed up at him. He cleared his throat.

Slowly, you asked, “What did you think happened?”

“What?”

And then, realization set in. Your face adapted a serendipitous grin. 

Oh. Ohhh.

You burst out in laughter.

Levi glared at your outburst. “Oi—”

Covering your mouth, you let out a muffled cry, “Levi, we just talked!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he snapped. You laughed harder. “You said that I—you were on top of me. You're wearing my damned clothes, for shit's sake. Stop laughing, damn it.”

You pressed your knuckles over your lips and watched him shift in his seat under your gaze. 

Grinning, you finally said, “Last night, you found me vomiting in the dumpster. I was in a pretty bad shape so you invited me over. You talked to me while I cried. You told me about yourself, your past, your newfound family. I hated my life, Levi. But knowing the things you went through made me feel like I’m never going to be alone in this world. So, thank you for being so kind to a stranger like me.”

“Oh, and I’m wearing your clothes because mine were soiled,” you added and gestured at the said clothing in the bathroom. “I was top of you because I insisted you sleep on your own bed when you suggested sleeping on the couch. Sorry, I’m a turbulent sleeper.”

Levi could only manage to stare at you. His brain short-circuited, and he would rather be dying than swallowing this embarrassment currently rising to his throat. 

He swore he would never go near alcohol again.

“I knew you were drunk,” you said, “but I didn’t think you’d forget everything. So it’s true you can’t hold your liquor.”

“I told you even that?” he asked.

“That everyone thinks you never get drunk because you never look drunk? Yes, you did,” you grinned.

Levi took a scalding sip from his tea.

“When I said let's do it again next time, I was thinking of hanging out properly this time. No drunk slurred speech and vomiting. Well, on my part of course. There's a coffee shop downtown and I thought…” you trailed off, taking his dumbfounded silence as a rejection.

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck with unease. Perhaps this would be a good time to call a cab and head home. After all, you weren't expecting sober Levi to put up with the amount of mess you have piled on your plate. You realized that he was probably unnerved by your behavior. After all, he didn’t even remember talking to you.

You stood up to grab your coat even though it’s still wet. “I’ll return your clothes and make sure they're washed—” 

“I’m free,” he cut in.

“What?” 

“Coffee tomorrow evening, then?” he asked, twisting around his seat so he was facing you.

Hope rising, you replied, “Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Give me your number. I’ll pick you up...” 

Levi paused. He didn't even know your name.

You chuckled and told him your name, and he repeated it unsurely.

“See you, then?” 

“At least finish your breakfast,” he grumbled and began eating.

You flashed him a lopsided grin, a gentle yet playful smile that tugged not only your lips but also his heart. 

He would never go near alcohol again, but at least, that foolishness led to something worthwhile.

[tobesobri]

𝒯his chapter has one of the most important scenes to me at the very end of it. It’s not very elaborate, and may not seem like much to most of you, but I felt like I was truly pouring myself into this story at that point and it was really sort of like therapeutic to write and then chapter five was even more so. But, anyways, thank you so much if you choose to read and an extra special thank you if you’ve messaged me sharing your thoughts, I truly appreciate it ❤️ 

huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️

CHAPTER FOUR: EARLY MORNING LIGHT (4.8K)

Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.

🥥MASTERLIST 🌃INSPO TAG 🌻ASK TAG 💃PLAYLIST 🛌

Even before he was fully conscious, he knew she was still there. And not entirely because he could feel her arm wrapped firmly around his chest or her leg overlapping his, but because he didn’t feel that same burning pain in his chest he had the previous morning when he woke and she was gone. 

He would have stayed like that for as long as he could too, if his bladder didn’t have anything to do with it. 

Instead of leaving her in his empty bed, as he squeezed himself away from her, he replaced his body with one of his larger pillows. She stirred beside him, letting out the cutest little irritated groan that made him instantly fall in love with her. Once she seemed to go back to sleep, however, he made calculated movements until he was safely out of bed. 

His brain was a little less foggy by the time he stepped foot onto the cold tile in the bathroom. Eyes still stinging from exhaustion, however, he dragged his body to the toilet. He could still taste the bitterness of alcohol on the back of his tongue and he seemingly peed long enough to get it all out of his system.

When he reached the sink to wash his hands is when he paused. He’d been on autopilot the entire time, barely opening his eyes when it wasn’t necessary to do so. But, when he spotted her things laid out neatly on the vanity counter around the sink he didn’t use, it woke him right up. 

His eyes wandered from her Colgate toothbrush to her bottle of Neutrogena face wash and make-up remover wipes while he washed his hands. And, as much as he tried to fight it after he dried himself off on one of his towels, he just couldn’t be stopped from picking up her small, travel-sized perfume bottle. Immediately upon undoing the cap and bringing the atomizer up to his nose, he was sent right back to last night. To all the times he’d been at all close enough to her to smell this exact scent on her skin. And while it was much more potent coming straight from the bottle, he liked it better on her. 

Shaking his head clear and deciding he was being intrusive, he closed the cap of the little pink bottle and set it back down where he found it. He had to admit, he liked seeing her things on his counter the way they currently were. Like they belonged there. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why he liked it so much, but he just knew it gave him a warm, home-like fuzzy feeling. He couldn’t shake it off, even when he’d ventured back into his bedroom and found her in the same position he’d left her in.

Walking over to his bedside table, he checked the time on his phone and realized it was a lot later than he had originally thought. Not that eight o’clock was late, but he assumed it had been earlier with how fatigued he felt. He blamed it on the alcohol.

And then he was tasked with the horrible decision to wake Y/N or to let her sleep. But, he desperately needed coffee, didn’t currently own anything besides the Keurig to make it himself, and didn’t want to leave her to wake up alone in his big empty house. 

So after a quick moment of watching her sleep and trying to find any justification not to disrupt her, he came up short and reached over to gently touch her shoulder until her eyes blinked open and up to him.

The brief confusion was very much apparent and seeing her like that made him completely forget why he was waking her up in the first place. There was a soft tug between her brows like she was ready to yell at him for disturbing her and her lips pouted as if begging him to just leave her the fuck alone. But, once she came to her senses, her features softened and he came to his own senses as well.

“I’m, uh, going to pick up some coffee, do you want anything?” He spoke softly, knowing just how irritated he’d be if someone was yelling in his face first thing in the morning. Not to mention, there was a pretty good chance she, too, had a massive migraine comparable to his own, and he had no intentions of making it worse for either of them.

She simply shook her head and rested it back down onto the pillow he’d shoved into her arms earlier as if she didn’t even need him at all to cuddle up to. With a slight giggle, the second she closed her eyes to go back to sleep, he backed away from her and went about his business getting ready to go outside.

And if you’re Harry Styles, you can’t go out in a shirt with unintentional holes in it and matching ones in your baggy grey sweatpants. He wasn’t sure why he still wore them, given his massive closet and ability to purchase new sleepwear, but they made him the most comfortable and felt familiar after long days; so he held onto them. And Y/N didn’t even seem to care, so neither did he.

But going out in them was a different story, so instead of becoming a news headline for bad fashion choices, he got himself together in his closet. He was too focused on his usual routine to realize Y/N was still right behind him as he slipped out of his sleep clothes and put clean ones on. And when he did remember she was there, after already tugging on some light washed blue jeans and with a white tee shirt in hand to throw on top, he twisted his head around to her. She hadn’t even moved an inch and he wasn’t sure if he cared that she saw him in his boxer-briefs. It’s not like she couldn’t search for him in his underwear on Google Images if she really wanted to. 

He wasn’t sure if anyone would even notice him while he was out, but in case they did, he needed to be prepared. So, once he was dressed, he was back in the bathroom to brush his teeth and make himself smell a lot better than he currently did. He left Y/N’s stuff alone this time even though he was still completely obsessed with it sitting on his counter, and found himself daydreaming about the day she just left things over at his house full time. 

Hell, he’d let her leave whatever she wanted right then and there if she needed to. He had the room and he liked the little reminders of someone besides himself being in his space. 

Right when he was about to leave his room, securing his watch on his wrist as he headed toward the door, he heard her mumble from the bed, which made him stop.

“I didn’t know you had so many tattoos.” 

He knew she was smirking at him before he even turned to look at her just because of the familiar tone of her voice whenever she teased him about something. He never would have considered anything about her voice familiar at all just a few weeks ago, so he didn’t really care that she had clearly seen him putting his clothes on.

“I didn’t know you were a perv.” He shot back.

She smiled and squished her face into his pillow to hide it and he fell a little bit more in love. 

He really needed that coffee.

“Can you get me a hot chocolate… I’ll pay you back.” She shut her eyes again and he was too lost in how much she resembled the cutest little puppy to even say a word about her not needing to pay him back the four dollars that, quite literally, wouldn’t even make the tiniest of dents in his bank account. 

“Do you want whipped cream?”

“No,” she scrunched up her face in disgust and he tried his hardest to stop the massive smile from spreading across his face, but he just loved finding out new things about her way too much. That, and the fact that if he was bringing her something, it was sort of like insurance that she wouldn’t leave while he was out. 

She didn’t take off like he’d feared, but she was already out of bed and put together by the time Harry got back. When he walked through the front door, he half expected her to be sitting in his living room, waiting to get her hot chocolate, pay him the $4.50, and then leave. But, to his surprise, that wasn’t the case.

She had set her packed bag on the end of his bed and pulled one of his small armchairs out from the corner of the room to the center of it so she could sit and stare at the entire view head on. This time, though, it was an early morning view where people were going to work rather than coming home from it. 

By some miracle she’d figured out how to open the curtains, it had just taken her fifteen minutes to do so. And then once she found the right button, on the right remote control sitting on Harry’s nightstand, she played around with opening and closing them because it was just too fascinating and she was just a little bit easily entertained. 

But once the newness of it wore off, she left them open and switched between checking her phone and just staring out the window, like she had been put under some kind of mesmerizing spell. 

Harry found her in that exact position, sitting in one of his mis-matched floral printed armchairs, staring out over Los Angeles like she owned it. Like she was sitting on her throne as the queen of the city. It endeared him to no end because it was just little things like that and like not wanting whipped cream on her hot chocolate and organizing her things on his counter as neatly as possible that said the most about her. He started to wonder if she’d always been like that and he just never took the time to fully pay attention.

Walking up to her, he handed over her drink that had been warming his cold hands because it was that time of year in southern California where it was freezing in the mornings, but boiling by afternoon. 

She took it from him, her eyes following the path up his arm to his shoulder and then finally to his face just to find him staring out the windows like she had been. But once he felt her staring, he glanced down at her just in time to find her trying to shove a five dollar bill into his hand.

He immediately pulled away. “It’s fine, you don’t need to pay me back.”

“But I feel bad.”

He rolled his eyes, not sure if she would hate him for coming right out with the fact that he had millions of dollars and that her five didn’t make a single difference. He knew he would hate himself more if he took money from her.

Sighing, he sat down on the end of the bed beside her chair, blowing on his own hot cup of Starbucks before taking a sip and realizing it still hadn't cooled down enough. The caffeine, however, was well worth the first degree burns. 

“I think maybe we should talk… ‘bout all of this.” He changed the subject, watching as she forgot about the five dollars, tucked it back into her pocket and avoided looking at him again.

Because she had no clue what he wanted to talk about. Was he going to put an end to it? Did she go too far last night? Should she have not said anything about seeing him changing his clothes? Did she snore or talk in her sleep and he had enough of it?

She hid her worries around her cardboard cup, holding onto it tightly with both hands and trying not to let him see the disappointment in her face.

“I mean, um,” he sat forward a little, realizing what he said had a bit of a sour connotation and the cold shoulder she was giving him was well-deserved. “Like, is this going to be a thing every night? And if it is, you can leave some stuff here if you want. Unless you’d rather sleep at your place, but I don’t think Will is that stupid…”

His rambling quickly turned her spirits around because he wasn’t actually telling her to piss off. He hadn’t come to the conclusion that she was using him like she feared. As much as he’d made it clear everything was mutual, she still couldn’t help but think she needed him more than he needed her. 

She was positive he could get anyone else he wanted to cuddle up to at night, so she had no clue why Harry was going along with their arrangement. And after learning about his past relationships she couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing the same thing to him.

“Do, um, you want it to be a thing every night?” She wasn’t entirely sure where the courage to ask him that had come from, but she regretted it when he took a couple seconds too long to answer.

Eventually he did, though, after a moment of looking out the windows just to find a way to tell her that didn’t sound weird. He already knew the answer to the question, he just wasn’t sure if she felt the same way at all. But in the end, he swallowed his anxieties and owned up to how he really felt. 

“Yes.”

Saturday afternoon was spent doing nothing but thinking of when she’d see Harry again. The plans for the night were already set when she’d come home to find Will on FaceTime with Harry, discussing him coming over to work on the album again. As per her eavesdropping, while she pretended to be busy cooking herself a late breakfast, she learned his second album was still in very early stages. He had no concept for it yet, only half a song was written and he hadn’t even booked studio time because he didn’t want to go in with nothing, just to waste everyone’s time. 

It was, to say the least, strange to see the dissonance between how Harry had been with her and how he was on the phone with Will where they only discussed work matters. She couldn’t even remember when he’d last brought his album up to her, or if he ever had. So it made her wonder if he ever talked to Will about the things he’d said to her. Did he tell Will how lonely he was because he couldn’t trust anyone anymore? Or how long it had been since he’d last been close to someone? 

Or were those details he only told her?

Once she had her food on her plate, ready to disappear into her bedroom, Will walked into the kitchen with Harry in his hand and it made her tense up in a way she never had around Harry. Maybe it was the fact that she knew what she looked like on camera and she hated it, and hated the idea of Harry seeing her like that. Or maybe it was because she and Harry had this secret that Will knew absolutely nothing about and she almost couldn’t find it in herself to interact with Harry in any way she used to a couple weeks prior. She knew way too much about him now and pretending otherwise in front of Will would nearly break her heart.

“Is it alright if he comes over?” Will asked, and she glanced down to the screen of his phone, finding Harry in a grey hoodie and his hair in a bit of a floofy mess. It was how he looked when he woke up in the morning, so with that and with his completely blank stare, it comforted her because his face was an exact parallel to her current inner struggle. Trying to remember how little they used to talk, because it felt like years ago now, and act accordingly as to not set off any alarms for Will. 

After a moment, she shrugged and looked to Will again, grabbing her plate and moving herself out of view, leaving him with that simple gesture as her only answer. He was used to her ways of communication, though, and didn’t expect anything less. 

As she headed towards the hallway, she heard Will giggle before speaking to Harry again. “I think that means she’s fine with it.”

Harry and Will sat across from each other at the dining table when Y/N made her first retreat from her bedroom, having spent the entire time since Harry had arrived hiding and trying to come up with any excuse to see him. 

But, when she did make an appearance, Harry was already lost to the stress of song-making that he barely even noticed her. He and Will had been going back and forth on a song for the past hour, a migraine settling itself in both of their frontal lobes by that point. Harry hated everything he was coming up with and didn’t like anything Will had to offer either. 

He’d never experienced a writer’s block this shitty, but he was already over it. He even went to a whole other country to try and combat it, but that didn’t seem to do the trick either.

They’d made little progress on the song Harry was currently working on by the time he finally noticed her. She shut their mug cabinet a little too hard and both him and Will turned their heads toward the noise. Harry, however, stared a little longer, as he watched her make her hot chocolate, letting it take him back to this morning when he didn’t feel a stitch of stress about his music. When he could’ve fallen in love with the way she looked at him from his bed and the way her things seemed to fit perfectly on his bathroom counter. 

The inspiration really hit when she left, when his heart didn’t feel like it was about to burst, but rather it felt like she’d taken pieces of it into her bedroom with her. 

He had no fucking idea why she had this weird hold over him. Maybe it was because they’d jumped straight into a very intimate relationship. Maybe it was because she knew more about him than most and she still seemed to like him just the same. Maybe it was because the entire time since he’d met her, he’d wanted to know everything there was to know about her, and he was slowly chipping away at all those little details. But, there was still so much more to learn and he was so incredibly and stupidly infatuated. 

With little regard for everything telling him not to get carried away, he still found himself flipping to an empty page in his journal and jotting down new ideas. Ideas that had stemmed from her. About how she made him feel. About her coconut-scented hair and her insecurities and the way she always had the right thing to say even if there weren't a lot of words coming from her mouth. It all seemed to just flow out all at once.

The next time she appeared was a little more distracting than the first. Because not only had he and Will finally made some kind of breakthrough, but she was also heading to the bathroom with a robe in hand. It made his heart race, wanting time to go faster so he could curl up next to her and breathe her in as soon as possible. He wanted to feel her soft skin under his fingertips and get lost in her hair again. His thoughts made it nearly impossible for him to focus on work anymore after that. 

So about twenty minutes later when she was tiptoeing back down the hall with her hair wrapped in a towel, he told Will he was too tired to continue writing. And with everything saved onto Will’s laptop, they cleaned up. Will organized everything into a neat pile and Harry put his stuff away into his backpack. While Will finished cleaning up the kitchen as well, Harry helped himself into the shared hall closet where they kept all their spare blankets and pillows. He had made his own makeshift bed on their longest couch in a matter of a few minutes, not that he’d actually be sleeping in it tonight, but Will didn’t need to know about that.

He faked it for as long as he could hold out; until the apartment was completely quiet and long after Will had disappeared for good into his own bedroom. But the entire time he waited, wide awake and flipping mindlessly through social media apps, he craved her touch like nothing he ever had before. 

Though he had a really unhealthy obsession with caffeine, somehow, he wanted her more than that. More than the sweet, nostalgic taste of his mom’s oatmeal cookies and more than the best plate of paella he’d ever tried; one that had really changed the game for him when he was in Spain a few weeks ago. He’d craved that fucking pasta dish every day up until now, when there was something he wanted even more than it. 

He made a mound of pillows on the couch underneath a blanket to make it seem as if he was there just in case someone woke up in the middle of the night. Then, quiet as a mouse, he tiptoed down the hall and knocked on her door just after ten-thirty. However, when she left him standing in the hallway with no response, he suddenly worried that she might’ve been asleep or that she didn’t want him in. Or maybe she just hadn’t heard him, so he knocked again.

She ceased his worries when she appeared on the other side of the door, her silhouette fitting in perfectly with the cozy surroundings of her bedroom. Her room looked lived in and he guessed that’s why he liked it so much. She wasn’t exactly a minimalist and so, no matter how many times his eyes wandered around her room the few nights he’d spent in her bed, there was always something new to look at. 

Like her growing collection of stuffed farm animals or the picture frames on her bookshelf he never got a chance to fully examine. 

This time he was in her room hit him worse than all the others because there was a soft glow of candles burning in the background and he could hear the faint sound of lullabies playing behind her. It took all the strength he had in him not to pull her into bed right then and there.

She stepped aside when he didn’t say a word, and they really didn’t have to say much to each other at all by this point. Not that words were overflowing from her mouth to begin with, but it was nice to just be at a point where they could silently accept each other. 

Where he could step into her bedroom and not feel like an intruder as he sat on the edge of her mattress.

“Were you asleep already?” He finally asked, softly so as to not wake anyone through their paper thin walls, once she shut and locked her bedroom door.

“You think I sleep with candles burning?” She said matter-of-factly, and he was unsure of her tone but when he saw the slight hint of a smile on her face, he relaxed again. Her sarcasm was another thing he had to get used to. 

He watched her as she put the flames out, the last little bits of light in her room sizzling into complete darkness until his eyes fully adjusted to the new light. Most of her movements were masked by the music coming from a speaker he couldn’t quite locate. It wasn’t very loud, nor was it anything he’d ever heard before, but it calmed every single nerve in his entire body enough to crawl under her blanket and make himself at home.

She joined him soon after, falling right into place beside him except this time, they faced each other. She kept a safe distance, too worried about her breath smelling to get any closer to him than she already was. 

“You should set an alarm. So you’re back on the couch before anyone wakes up.” He figured she was right; it was the logical thing to do, but he also knew he would hate waking up in the morning and having to leave her. Still, he pulled his phone out and set it for five a.m. No one would be awake before that on a Sunday morning. Once he was done, he twisted around to put his phone on the side table closest to him before settling back into her.  

It was quiet between them for a moment as they just stared at each other because neither of them knew how to make the first move. She didn’t want to be as forward as she had been, and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her. Even if they’d done this a few times already, it would still take time getting used to it. They weren’t dating, they were hardly even friends. Being this intimate with each other didn’t happen without some degree of doubt.

She took a deep breath out of her nose, as if she was giving in first and carefully sought out his hand underneath the blanket. Once she found it and had his hand in her own, she scooted closer to him and wrapped his arm around herself like a blanket. He giggled lightly at her before he repositioned his arm a little bit, to get comfortable and to accommodate her own arm wrapping around him. He felt her tense up like she hadn’t ever done before and he worried that she was uncomfortable or that he was holding on too tight.

“S’this okay?” He questioned, easing up a little bit.

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she nodded, “Yes.” 

He didn’t quite believe her, not with the way she seemed almost in pain, and how she had yet to melt into him like she normally did. Still, she reached up slowly and carefully wrapped her arm around his neck instead, bringing herself even closer to him.

It was almost like she was forcing her body to let it trust him. To let go of her past and be there in the present with Harry. It was an all new position they’d never slept in before. It was closer and she had to be more open; more willing to let him hug her and to feel his much harder chest moving against hers. To let him fall asleep in the crook of her neck if he wanted to. There was just so much more that she wanted to trust him with and eventually she did. Eventually he felt her muscles relax and her breath became less erratic.

“I don’t really let anyone touch me.” She confessed into the darkness around them to his unspoken question. With both their eyes closed and in safer territory, it didn’t bother her to tell him, and she really couldn’t deny there was something about Harry that made her want to reveal all her secrets to him. Maybe it was that he seemed to genuinely care about them that got her to spit out things she’d never peeped to a single soul on earth before. 

He was quiet for a moment even though inside his head it was a mess. Why didn’t she let anyone touch her? Had someone hurt her so badly she didn’t let herself experience closeness anymore? Or was she just like that? Just didn’t enjoy it very much? So many possibilities raced through his mind until he finally rubbed his hand over her back softly and took a deep breath in of her familiar perfume, the clean scents on her skin and in her damp hair.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

She nodded against him and instead of pulling away like he expected her to, she cuddled even closer to him, finding a spot against his collarbone that comforted her more than she could have ever imagined it to. And then she was falling, both asleep and maybe something else too, but it all felt the same.

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[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 21

Prompt: time travel (alternate 7)

Warnings: brief description of minor PTSD episode

Read on AO3! (this one is long so I didn’t spend as much time on reformatting when copying it here) 

Not Much Has Changed, Except for Everything

Anakin is angry. He knows he isn't supposed to be angry because "anger leads to the dark side" and whatnot, but he can't help that he is seething. He should head straight into a meditation room and deal with his anger the way he is trained. Or even lock himself in a training sala and work out his emotions constructively.

Instead, he barges through the door of his apartment, and when his master isn't in the living room or kitchen he barges into his bedroom.

Obi-Wan sits on the bed in a lotus position, a datapad balanced on his knee and a cup of tea in the other hand. He looks up with a raised eyebrow like he expected him to end up here eventually.

"Hello, padawan... what--"

"Don't," Anakin says sharply, so worked up he's bobbing back and forth on the balls of his feet. "You recommended passing me over for trials again."

Obi-Wan's shoulders drop and he rests the mug on his thigh. "Anakin we have talked about--"

"You know I'm ready! I have the highest marks in combat and control of the Force. I even got my grades up in philosophy. How could you do this to me?"

Obi-Wan doesn't answer him a moment, just does the endlessly annoying thing where he ever so carefully and calmly puts away whatever he was doing to give him his full attention. And to make sure I don't throw his hot tea across the room... again.

"Are you going to let me speak a full sentence, or are you just here to yell at me?" Anakin crosses his arms over his chest. It's enough of a response. The Jedi knight sighs. "Anakin, we've talked about this. You are a fine senior padawan and very close to being ready for your trials but as you are very relevantly demonstrating, you still have some work to do on managing your emotions."

"I'm only mad because you went behind my back!"

"Went behind-- " he shakes his head. "I never told you I was going to recommend you for your trials this cycle, I only said you were getting close, and the council agreed with my assessment."

The idea of his master and the council discussing him and how unready he is for the knight trials only pours salt in the wound.

"I basically command my own battalion like a Jedi general at this point. I have done everything you say, and you still treat me like I'm a kid."

"Need I remind you that if you were knighted at your current age, you would be one of the youngest human Jedi knights?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing!"

"I don't mean--I am just saying, you talk as though I'm holding you back from your peers when many of your age-mates are years from being considered for knighthood."

"I don't care about my age-mates?" Anakin huffs.

"You just need more time to mature--" Anakin rolls his eyes. He's heard this exact lecture a billion times from Obi-Wan.

"More time to mature. Much more to learn. Master, just because I don't have a lightsaber up my ass and recite the Jedi Code in my sleep, doesn't mean I'm not ready!"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan's calm demeanor turns colder. A warning tone.

"Where did being the perfect padawan get you anyway? Qui-Gon didn't even try to knight you until you were what, twenty-five?"

"Anakin--"

"And you didn't even do the trials, it was basically just a pity--"

"Enough," Obi-Wan stands from the bed, his tone severe. Immediate regret trickles in at the sight of Obi-Wan's intense stare. He's gone too far. "You're lashing out and certainly not acting like a Jedi Knight. This is not me asking you to be perfect this is me asking you to be reasonable. Think about it in any other way besides The Galaxy vs. Anakin and you'll see you are acting like the child you so desperately don't want to be!"

Anakin doesn't quite know where to go from here because usually Obi-Wan sits there and lets him go on until he runs out of steam or makes a fool of himself. But this time... Anakin has never seen him snap into action and actually fire back so hard. He didn't want to hurt his feelings he was... just frustrated.

"Obi-Wan I--"

"Anakin can we talk about this tomorrow?" he massages his temple with his pointer finger. "My headache is becoming a migraine and you have some meditating to do."

He sighs. Not really wanting to leave things that way, but when Obi-Wan gets his migraines there isn't much talking that can actually happen. He walks over to his dresser and grabs a pill bottle.

"Yeah, Master. Tomorrow." he places the pill bottle in his hand and leaves the bedroom. The door closes behind him.

Obi-Wan probably thinks he's going to bed, but he isn't. Instead, Anakin leaves, taking deep breaths as he walks through the halls of the Temple. The Force is especially pungent today. It feels like he's wading through a foggy bog with all the negative emotions he's stirred up, and meditating in his room isn't going to resolve that. So he heads to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It's a weird time-- the younglings should be at dinner, it's evening briefings for the knights and padawans out on a campaign, and the council is usually in session, leaving the massive fountain room basically empty.

He climbs a few levels up, already feeling better with the mist of the waterfalls against his skin and the activity of climbing. His favorite place is a little nook on the fourth level where an upper fall cascades beside it. The constant water noise is soothing-- something he never thought he'd ever hear when he was a kid. If he's going to do the old-fashioned meditation, it's going to be here. Anakin settles down on the rocks, breathing in slowly and letting the Force saturate around him. With how pushy it's been acting, there's no surprise he's pulled into a good, deep meditation quickly.

Anakin awakes lying on the ground. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but meditation is pretty boring so it's not uncommon for him. He groans, letting his eyes adjust to the light streaming in from the window-- he must have slept here all night... whoops. Hopefully, it's still early or else Obi-Wan will have a whole other reason to be mad at him.

But strangely, when his eyes adjust he realizes he isn't in the Room of a Thousand Fountains anymore. He's laying in the middle of the hallway that leads to the council chambers.

Did someone carry me down or... No that would be difficult and I would have woken up. Maybe I sleepwalked? Anakin has never done that but he supposes there's a first time for everything. He straightens out his wrinkled robes and tries to fix a few parts of his braid that are trying to unravel.

Voices approach. He looks down the hall to see a tall master walking with long strides. Beside him, a little boy trails slightly behind and to the side-- the padawan position. But this boy doesn't look like much of a padawan. His hair is long, unevenly cut and falling into his eyes and down to his collar. If he has a braid, Anakin can't see it. While he wears some Jedi robes, they're mixed with pieces of civilian clothing. A blue undershirt paired with a the standard-issue outer robe and black pants with mismatched patches on both knees. And he's tiny-- concerningly skinny from the way his robe is hanging off of him. The boy's bright eyes snap to him as he stares, and Anakin adverts his eyes from the strange kid.

"Excuse me, padawan," the master says, brushing past him, and Anakin's entire body freezes. The voice is familiar, one he would never forget. He'd been so busy trying to figure out what the heck is going on with the padawan's wardrobe that he didn't get a good luck at the Jedi Master's face. Anakin whirls around.

"Master Jinn?"

The master stops, and turns around, his eyebrow raised. "Yes?" He blinks. This isn't possible. Qui-Gon is dead. Has been for a decade. Qui-Gon steps forward, cocking his head to the side. "Are you well? You've gone pale."

"Yes," Anakin chokes. "Yes, I'm... I'm fine. Just... uh, have you seen Master Windu?"

His brown eyes scan over Anakin critically. "In a council meeting. They should be done soon."

He can't stop staring at the dead master. He looks younger than Anakin remembers. Grays are only beginning to invade his sideburns, and there are far fewer wrinkles in the corners of his eyes and across his forehead. This must be a dream... a really vivid dream... but how could Anakin possibly dream about Qui-Gon if he never knew him at this age?

The realization dawns on him. He looks down at the shaggy padawan. Bright blue eyes shine back, silently watching Anakin's awkward encounter. A blank stare that Anakin would recognize anywhere. "Obi-Wan?" he blurts out.

Now the kid looks alarmed. He can't be older than twelve or thirteen. "Uh, yes..."

"Manners, Obi-Wan. Senior padawans are to be respected, too." Qui-Gon corrects, and the padawan's eyes widen, and then he bows. Master Jinn turns his attention back to Anakin, still looking at him funny. "Where is your master? And what is your name, I'm sorry, I thought I knew most of the senior padawans."

"I, uh, my name is Ani. My master is a shadow, so I'm... gone a lot."

It's a threadbare excuse that any reasonable Master would as follow-up questions to, but Qui-Gon seems to be in too much of a hurry to go through the trouble. He just nods. "Right. Nice to meet you, Padawan Ani, but we must be going. Master Windu should be done momentarily, though, if you wait outside the council chambers.

"Thank you, Master," Anakin replies, bowing. He still can't believe he's really talking to Master Jinn again... and padawan Obi-Wan? This just makes it even weirder. Why is he dressed like that? And how did Anakin get here? When even is here?

It has to be some trick of the Force. There really isn't another explanation. For some reason, it has sent him back in time, and he has a feeling it has something to do with Obi-Wan.

The pair turn and continue on in the direction they were before. He watches them go, Obi-Wan trailing with his head staring at the ground.

"As I was saying, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon says in a low voice, but the acoustics of the vaulted hallways make it sound as though he's talking directly to Anakin. "The council may have accepted you back on probationary status, but I am not yet ready to accept you again as my student. Do you understand this?"

Anakin's brows crease in confusion. The Force must have sent him back in time and to another dimension! If he heard Master Jinn right then... Anakin needs to talk to little Obi-Wan and find out what's going on.

It's harder to track down the kid than he thought it would be. He passes the time by taking a quick lap around the Temple to check out what else is different in this new time-- he figures out it's about two or three years before he's actually born, which is weird. Not much has really changed besides the Temple being much fuller. Like when he first was brought here. His first stop is the Archives, which surprisingly doesn't contain Tiny-Wan. He passes by the mess, the padawan training sala-- nothing. Then he gets an idea.

He strolls into the initiate training sala and smiles. Obi-Wan is on the other side of the room, his back to the door and a training saber in hand. He goes through the Form I katas slowly and smoothly.

As Anakin strolls in, Obi-Wan stops, dropping his saber at his side and turning slowly around. "Oh, hi Padawan Ani," he says in the same Core accent but a few octaves higher. It seems he hasn't had time to change, so he's stripped down to his undershirt and pants, Jedi robes cast to the side. He seems to also have gained a strip of cloth he's fashioned as a headband to keep his hair back. It makes parts of his hair stick up in wild directions. Definitely, a look that isn't characteristic of his usually tidy Master. He tops off the greeting with a polite bow.

"No need to bow when we're not around the Masters, kid. And you can just call me Ani. We're both padawans."

Obi-Wan's eyes drop to the ground, his face falling. He can't get over how young he looks. "Oh... you didn't hear?"

"Like I said, I've been away."

He traces a saber mark on the ground with the toe of his boot. "I, uh, left for a while. My master doesn't trust me anymore."

Out of all the things he expected to come out of Obi-Wan's mouth, this was not one of the possible options he contrived. "Doesn't trust-- I mean, what could you have possibly done?"

"I said I left," he says, his blue eyes snapping up to him with surprising intensity. Anakin raises an eyebrow.

"You're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"You're upset."

Tiny-Wan doesn't reply. Anakin gets another idea. He pulls out his lightsaber and turns down the power into training mode. The kid watches him carefully.

"Wanna spar?"

"Now?"

"Helps blow off some steam so it's easier to meditate later." Anakin ignites his saber, waving around the blue blade in a quick spin. Obi-Wan's long face turns to a grin, and he ignites the training saber again. They stand in opening positions, Obi-Wan sticking with Form I, which makes sense for a thirteen or fourteen-year-old. Anakin decides maybe doing a form he isn't as good at would even things out a little more-- he raises his lightsaber above his head, turning his body to the side and pointing his arm straight out toward Obi-Wan. The kid's eyes widen at the Soresu stance.

In taking a defensive form, Obi-Wan is the first to make a move. He moves swiftly, naturally, testing out the clash of the sabers against one another with simple blows Anakin is meant to easily deflect. He's testing me, Anakin realizes as he keeps pushing him in a tight circle. He lets the kid get warmed up to the spar, giving him a few more offensive moves to mix things up, which seems to excite him.

"Been a while since you sparred?" Anakin asks.

"That obvious?"

"Oh, no, Obi-Wan I didn't mean you were doing bad you just seem... happy to be doing it." The Force is singing right now.

The kid does a slightly more advanced move, grinning wildly. "I've missed fighting with a lightsaber."

Slowly, Anakin is picking up clues. He "left", didn't have his saber with him (or he did and just had nobody to use it against), and whatever he did got him in trouble with the council.

"What form do you wanna learn first?"

"Four!" he says, demonstrating a classic Ataru acrobatic move with his answer, which surprises Anakin enough that Obi-Wan manages a combo move.

Anakin smiles. If only he knew he'd be a master of Soresu a handful of years from now.

"Very impressive, young one. You stayed in shape while away."

Once again, his face falls, and he puts his energy back into the fight. Their actions start picking up, Obi-Wan funneling more of his young energy into quick movements and acrobatics. Though his forms have fallen out completely by this point and turned into less controlled jabs, Anakin is struck with how smart he's fighting. He is selective with diversions and fakes, fighting well enough that Anakin is actually having to put some effort into maintaining his Soresu form. He's strong too. He slams his saber into his with surprising force, but never still long enough for Anakin to return the blow.

It's like he's used to fighting those much larger than him. He uses his size and speed to his advantage, knowing exactly how and where to strike that makes it difficult for Anakin to counter. It's fascinating, and not at all like how Obi-Wan spars now. Anakin even starts to forget who he is crossing swords with after a while until he speaks and the Tiny-Wan accent reminds him.

"You're holding back," he says, his forehead sheening with sweat.

"You're a kid."

"It's harder to practice real sparring when you're fighting like a training droid."

Anger? Taunting? Who is this kid? Anakin smirks at him, and when they reach a lull, he shifts his position into an offensive. Now, let's show him how Ataru is done.

The fight ends minutes later. To Tiny-Wan's credit, he held him off well, but Anakin is a senior padawan, trained by one of the best swordsmen in the Order, and Obi-Wan... well, he hasn't found out he's one of the best swordsmen in the Order yet. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he lays on the training sala floor. Anakin peers over him, and finds a toothy smile on his face.

"That. Was. Awesome!" he says, jumping up. "You moved so fast I couldn't even see you sometimes! You and my master--" he trails off, biting on his lip. His mood deflates. "You and Master Jinn should spar sometime. He also specializes in Ataru."

"Do you feel less upset now, at least?"

He nods. "I have a lot of catching up to do, but it... helped. Thanks, Ani."

Obi-Wan walks over to the bench to get dressed again. As he picks up his robe, his belt falls and clatters against the durasteel bench, making a loud singular bang. He doesn't think much of it until he looks at the padawan and sees his entire body has gone rigid, his eyes darting around the room.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin asks. When he doesn't move, he walks up to him and crouches down to eye level. "Obi-Wan, what's wrong?"

The kid clears his throat, his eyes finally focusing on the senior padawan. "I, uh, nothing, Ani. Just... loud."

Anakin reaches down and picks up the belt. "The noise this made... Did it scare you?"

"Jedi don't get scared."

"That isn't true. What just happened? Your face is white as a sheet."

With a deep, shaky sigh, the padawan sits down on the bench and buries his face in his hands. "It sounded... it sounded like the invasion bell."

"Invasion bell?"

"The scouts would ring it when they were attacking in the night."

"Obi-Wan, I don't know what you're referring to."

"The--The Melida. Or the Daan!" he exclaims, his head popping up from his hands. "They attacked so often in the night, we could never sleep well. What if we missed the bell?"

Cold sweat is beading on his forehead. Anakin has no idea what to say. He puts a comforting hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing softly.

"Hey, hey, you're not there anymore. It was just your belt. You're in the Jedi Temple. You're safe now. Just... breathe."

He guides him through deep breaths in and out-- something that his own master has gotten him through as well. It's strange to be preaching his own tactics back at him, though he doesn't seem to notice. Probably hasn't learned them yet.

Obi-Wan recovers. Finishes getting dressed. Seems embarrassed to have him kneeling beside him rubbing circles on his back from the flush in his cheeks. "I should... go home now. But thanks for fighting with me Ani."

"Anytime, kid. You know, things with your master are going to work out."

Tiny-Wan looks up at him with those big blue eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Obi-Wan leaves with a spring in his step. As soon as he's out of the room, Anakin deflates. How did this kid-- shellshocked and emotional-- become his steadfast master? How has he never heard any of this before? He decides the best way to figure this out is to go talk to the council. Tell them he's here somehow and try to figure out more.

But suddenly the sala starts to sway, and he begins to feel like he's being put under a sleep suggestion. Uh oh. Not now! Not yet! I just need to talk to--

Anakin gasps awake, a headache pounding at his temples and his sleeve soaking wet from falling into the spray of the waterfall. He's back in the room of a thousand fountains, back in his own time period, assumingly, and now with a million questions going through his head. Light is streaming in from the skylights-- he really did spend all night here. He wastes no time jumping up and climbing down the falls.

Obi-Wan is awake when he bursts back into the apartment, sitting at the kitchen table eating sliced fruit. He looks up apathetically when Anakin enters, half soaking wet, only raising an eyebrow. The Obi-Wan blank stare that apparently he's had mastered since he was a kid.

"Where have you been?"

You wouldn't believe me if I told you. "Early start."

"Mmhm." he doesn't sound convinced, but he chooses to stuff another piece of fruit in his mouth instead of questioning him further.

"Obi-Wan..." Anakin doesn't even know where to start. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he says, gesturing to the chair across from him. Anakin sits down slowly. It's early enough that Obi-Wan is still in his nightclothes and his hair an unorderly mess. In this state, Anakin can see a flash of his padawan self, long messy hair, and baggy clothes hanging off him. "What is it?"

"What's the Melida?"

Obi-Wan lowers his fork slowly, "In... In what context?"

"Like... Melida or the Daan. Maybe a war?"

Obi-Wan goes completely still. He stares forward for a long time, not looking at Anakin or anything in particular just staring. What can Anakin do besides sit there and wait for him to say something. Anything.

"Well," he finally says. "Melida/Daan was a planet that had a civil war spanning generations."

"Had?"

"Well, it ended years ago. By a third group that fought against the other two for peace," he swallows dryly. "The Young. Why... Why do you ask, Anakin?"

"Well, I..." he didn't think he'd get this far if he's being honest. From the way Obi-Wan is looking at him, he seems to not have expected this to ever come up. "I heard something. About you as a padawan."

He's quiet for another moment. Not as long as the first, but just as haunting.

"Qui-Gon and I had a mission there when I was thirteen. Master Tahl had gone dark, and we were sent to find her. I saw what was happening on this planet. That children had taken it upon themselves to fight the war their great-great-grandparents waged. And I felt my place was there with them." Obi-Wan stands from the table, walking toward the window that faces out onto the skyline of Coruscant. "Qui-Gon didn't agree with me. He gave me a choice, and I chose to leave the Jedi Order and stay on the Melida/Daan."

"You... left the Jedi?" Anakin whispers in awe. Suddenly Tiny-Wan's cryptic words make sense.

"For about a year, yes. And then my feelings changed. I wanted to return, and we needed the help of the Jedi to lock in peace for the planet so I called Qui-Gon again. And he came for me... not without consequences, though," he mutters the last part.

"You. You left the order?"

"That is what I just told you, yes."

"And Master Jinn... he was hard on you about it?"

Obi-Wan's lips press together into a thin line. "Master Jinn and I were on scant terms before I left. He feared I would turn out like his previous padawan who turned to the dark side."

This almost makes Anakin laugh out loud. Obi-Wan? Turning to the dark side? He literally can't think of a person less likely.

But he thinks about how when he met padawan Obi-Wan his emotions were strong, easily read across his face. He was upset and a little angry and Master Jinn certainly wasn't doing anything to help him with that. Now Anakin feels horrible for what he said to his master the night before. Not only was it out of frustration, but it was also completely incorrect.

"Master, I'm... I'm sorry. For what I said earlier. I didn't... I wasn't--"

"Not many do," he says serenely. "And maybe I should have told you sooner I just..." he shrugs. "I suppose it's not my favorite topic to think about. I was far too young to be in a warzone. And when I returned, my guilt often got the best of me. It took a long time for him to trust me again. It's not a way I wanted you as my padawan to see me."

But when Anakin looks at Obi-Wan now, he isn't let down by this new context. If anything, it makes him respect his master even more. He always believed that Obi-Wan was hard on him because he wanted him to be as perfect as he was... but obviously, Tiny-Wan wasn't the saint he thought him to be, and Master Jinn didn't exactly give Obi-Wan the benefit of the doubt. But now he knows, even if it was just a glimpse, that maybe he knows more about needing to keep emotions under control than Anakin previously thought.

"Will you tell me more Tiny-Wan stories?" Anakin asks, making his master look at him funny.

"Tiny-Wan?  Why are you assuming I was small?"

Because I met you, Master, and you were pretty tiny. "Just... a hunch I suppose."

"Well, I'll have you know I was perfectly average for my age group." he pouts.

"Fine," the padawan groans. "Will you tell me more of your padawan stories?"

Obi-Wan walks into the kitchen and puts a kettle on the range. "I'm sure something of that sort can be arranged."

He watches him pull out two mugs and start to make some tea. He picks out Anakin's favorite as well as some milk-- just the way he likes it. And then his own. He watches his master with a new admiration. This must have been what the Force was trying to lead him to.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #331

my head hurts way too badly to think up some intro lyrics, so just g’night.

Have you ever become good friends with someone you never met in person? Oh yeah, I've had best friends over the Internet. Hell, I'm closer to many online friends than I am most irl ones. They know "the real me" more. What do you consider your default mood to be? Stressed, probably. Discontent. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever kept a goldfish alive for? Not long. Proper goldfish husbandry is a very neglected topic, and I sure as hell never knew how to set up its tank adequately. Have you ever been paintballing? No, don't plan to. It looks like it hurts like a bitch. Do you want a large wedding? No. Did you ever collect any sort of cards? I had a very small collection of Pokemon cards. I didn't collect them avidly. What’re the best and worst books you ever had to read for a class? The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton was the best. The worst was some book we had to read in the 6th grade about a kid during some war that moved around a lot... I don't remember the name or who wrote it, but it sucked. What’s the best meal you had at an amusement park, or If you haven’t been to one, how about a good meal at another place like a zoo, aquarium or museum? I don't know. I haven't been to many. Who, whether a person or company, emails you the most? My PHP therapist emails me a check-in sheet and Zoom link every day there's a therapy session. What kind of sound or noise freaks you out the most and why do you think it scares you? Let's seeeee... I don't know if there's a sound that actually freaks me out. There are some I don't like, but none that like, frighten me. At least that I can think of. What’s the strangest art piece you’ve come across? Biiiitch there's a painting in Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs I'm not gonna go into, but shit fuckin wild. What’s the most clever or unique name you’ve come across for a business? I've definitely heard some cool ones, but I don't know about one that really stands out to answer this. If you had to name one of your hypothetical future children after a song, which song would you pick? Maybe like... okay, I'm blanking. Good thing I'm not having kids to name then, right? What’s the last song you heard? "Down in the Park" by Marilyn Manson is on atm. What is your favorite line from a TV show? *shrug* Any current family issues? No. How many hours do you spend online a day? How do you feel about that? I'm doing something on the computer pretty much... always. I hate it, and I hate it a lot. I don't want my life to be tied solely to the digital plane. I want to do more than bounce back and forth from website to website. Do you think that people have the power to make their own lives better? Absolutely, but there are some things they simply cannot change. It's about perspective and how you play the deck you're dealt. What is the biggest problem in your life right now? Right now, the most limiting thing is my physical health, probably. Just walking being torture affects my ability to exercise, and my body is a major reason - if not the biggest, at this current time - for my depression. This also plays a massive role in jobs I can handle. Not to sound like my emo self writing middle school poetry, but my body feels like a prison. Do you feel that you are loved? I know I am by some people, though I have a hard time understanding why a lot. What is the one thing you want most from life? Life satisfaction. Pride in what I've accomplished. A regular state of being content. Birthplace? I'm just gonna say in eastern NC. Do you believe in love at first sight? No, merely infatuation. Love is much too deep for that. Do you think dreams eventually come true? Some can, but usually only if you put effort into making that so. Favorite fictional character? like ummmmmmmm have you heard of this sassy bastard called Darkiplier- Go to the movies or rent? Before Covid, I loved going to the theater. It was something to do, plus a giant screen is nice. McDonalds or Burger King? McD's. I'm not a big BK fan. I only really went there during my vegetarian phase for the veggie burger. Current annoyance? This motherfucking headache. Last thing you ate? I have a meal replacement shake with me right now, if you consider that "eating." I didn't have a proper dinner. The last solid food I had though was some cookies and cream Greek yogurt. Last thing you bought? With my own money, I think I bought Mom and I some cheap McDonald's order semi-recently? Or maybe paying my $100 deposit for my tattoo was most recent, idk. Soonest thing you are looking forward to? For Mom to get her CT scan and find out what's going on in there. What did you do today? It was a pretty average day. I woke up way too early, though. The only thing even semi-unique about today was I played World of Warcraft for a few hours again; I've been quite unattached to it lately, but I went through an episode today of actually having fun playing. Oh, and I've been battling a migraine. It's more of a severe headache now, at least, but it still sucks big time. Do you like to see it snowing outside? Oh yes, absolutely! When you were in high school did you ever have bomb threats? I believe once we did from a very volatile student that honestly caused quite a lot of trouble. He's dead now. Who knows ALL of your secrets? Nobody. Did you have a job before you were in college? No. Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a baby right now? That's a terrifying thought, no. Are you on birth control? Yeah, but just because it tames my menstrual cramps. Without it, they could be debilitating some days. Who is your last sent text to? My best fren. Have you ever eaten at Chipotle before? Possibly? Idr. Do you swear often? Excessively. I had a dirty mouth prior, but my swearing got really bad when I started staying at Jason's house a lot. He and especially his mother swear like mad. Do you own any shirts with a peace symbol on it? No. Do you have your national flag hanging up anywhere outside your house? Not at this house, no. Would you ever go to Japan? Oh, yes. I would love to. It's... very morbid, but I would really like to walk the (public) paths of Aokigahara Forest, nicknamed "Suicide Forest" for the horrible amount of, well, suicides that happen there via hanging. Like, you might just casually run into a dead body. I want to just... feel it there, walk in silence and empathize with people who didn't know what else to do and hope so deeply that those departed know they were never alone in their pain. I know with absolute certainty I'd probably be teary-eyed the whole time and cry a whoooole lot, but it's just an experience I want to have. What was the last thing you went to Walmart for? Some basic groceries. What should you be doing right now? Sleeping, given this headache... I just don't want to yet. Are you afraid of getting your heart broken? I'm fucking terrified of that ever happening again, far more than words can properly express. Have you ever been in a choir? Yes, actually; when I was a Catholic kid, my sisters and I were in the church choir for a year or so, idr. Do you have a Twitter? Yes, but only to like Mark's tweets, haha. Oh, and very rarely enter giveaways I'm interested in. Describe your retainers to me, if you have them, that is. I have a permanent metal one behind my front row of bottom teeth to keep those straight. My upper teeth had one of those normal retainers you take in and out, but I didn't wear it enough, so now it doesn't even fit. Would you like for someone to call you right now? No. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I'm enjoying the song I'm bingeing. It's so weird, I rarely ever go on music hunting trips (no real reason, I just... don't), but I've found great shit lately. Do you like to brush your teeth? No; it's a chore. I only do it because I don't want my teeth decaying, falling out, or getting too yellow, and the taste in your mouth and gritty texture on your teeth isn't exactly great when you don't brush. Have you ever had a surgery? Two. Give out your phone number over the internet? I have over private messages. Do you look older or younger than you actually are? Given my wardrobe (like graphic tees and band shirts), I probably look younger in the eyes of especially older people. I personally say I look my age, though. When is the next time you’ll be up on stage? I never plan to be again. What is the last show that you watched a full episode of? Some cooking show with Mom. Nailed It!, I think? Do you know anyone who lives in Utah? No. I love Utah, though; it's actually a place I'd be willing to live in with just how pretty it is and not super populated. Do you get your feelings hurt easily? VERY. I'm probably one of the most sensitive people you can meet. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? Yeah. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Ugh, yes. What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid? First we took those nasty, chalky Flintstones kinds, but as time passed, Mom moved onto giving us gummy bear vitamins that were perfectly fine. Did you get any compliments today? No. Are you friends with your neighbors? Not "friends," no. What towns have you lived in? Three different ones. That's all you're getting. Have you ever thrown up from drinking? No. Done any illegal drugs? No. I mean I've had some alcohol underage, but I've never done anything remotely hardcore. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been on an airplane without changing flights? Idk. Who have you texted today? My mom and best friend. What time did you wake up this morning? Ugh, like five in the fucking morning. I couldn't go back to sleep. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Making shitty eye contact, and I'm one of those people who "talks with [their] hands." I also lose my train of thought a whoooole lot. Have you ever layed in a hammock? Yeah; we had one growing up. Have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? How did you cope? Well yeah, I've had lots of pets, so thus lost some in particularly painful ways. The most scarring loss of a pet though is as follows: Teddy, my dog, picked up one of our cat's very young, wandering kittens in his jaws in a manner that looked as if he was trying to carry it like Aphrodite (the mother cat) does when she would bring them back behind the couch, where she gave birth/had her little "nest." I absolutely freaked and had to pry the kitten from his mouth, and it slowly died in my hands. I think Teddy accidentally crushed its ribs. I. Was. A. Mess. Then, there was Aphrodite herself. I've told the story before of our former neighbors calling animal control because our cats would wander through their yard, and all of our cats were taken away while I was unaware at school. Came home, and they were all gone. Aphrodite was my baby, so I was devastated. Screaming, sobbing, cursing on the porch for like 20 minutes... It was awful. What type of curtains do you like? I don't... know? I don't know the actual names of any types... What type of quality is a must-have in a friend? I absolutely cannot be friends with someone who thinks they're above everyone else. Are you any good at reading someone's body language? I think I am. What goes good with a nice cold glass of milk? Cookies! Especially Oreos. Dip it in there for around five seconds, and it's perfection. What fruit is too sweet to you? Grapefruit came to mind first. How did you feel after your first kiss? I had butterflies galore and was so giddy and smiley. After the first, I just wanted to kiss him a billion more times. What’s your favorite constellation and why? I don't have one. Shower curtain or door? Curtain. The glass doors are too revealing. Have you ever thought to yourself that you’re the luckiest person in the world? Most deeeeefinitely not. What time of day do you most enjoy looking at the sky? Sunset if there are clouds present, but sunrise if the sky is pretty clear.

[roibot]

I feel bad cause I properly YELLED at my supervisor today

We had IT in to look at everyones laptops, one of the senior managers was just back from maternity leave, I was training in someone -  all in all it was really bustling and busy in the office - when my supervisor burst open the door

Shes’ standing in the doorway, shaking like a chihuahua and calling for the senior manager (who she adores btw and seems to think can solve any problem, ever) ‘Jen, Jen, Jen, the microwave. Jen the microwave. Jen. Jen. JEN JEN JEN.  The microwave, Jen. Jen!! Jen! JEN!.’

Jen is flat out ignoring her (she does this a lot since coming back from maternity leave) and eventually I am sick of listening to this. so I turn around and ask supervisor is there anything I can help with

She looks at me like 0____0 and after a solid 5 seconds of eye contact whimpers ‘The microwave...’

I get up (I’m breaking in a new pair of Docs and have massive blisters all over my ankles - ‘Geriatric Hobble’ is currently my top speed) and go over to the office doorway. 

The second I poke my head out into the hallway, I realise just how much of a hubbub there is in the office today . Apparently we’ve managed to drown out the sound of a small plane taking off, which seems to be reverberating through the rest of the building

I literally can’t even describe this noise. As soon as I entered the hallway it filled up my ears and started bouncing around my skull. It’s loud, mettalic, throbbing, humming - I look at my supervisor, who confirms -in the voice of a small child fretting about a monster under the bed -: ‘It’s the microwave...’

This is where I yell. 

Forgetting for a second that a) there are still customers in the building and we should be professional and b) this is my supervisor and I should be professional, I shout (in a baritone I didn’t know I was capable of): ‘TURN IT OFF - NOW!!’

(microwaves, for the record, should not make this noise)

Supervisor looks at me, on the verge of tears. She won’t go into the kitchen. It’s scary.

Tbh, I get it. I’m pretty certain if I go into the kitchen, I’m going to die of microwave radiation. Possibly microwave explosion, at this point. But in an act of selfless heroism, I decide someones got to do something, and run into the kitchen.

The microwave is billowing clouds of acrid smoke, which is honeslty slightly a relief. I thought it might be billowing flames, or sparks. Bracing myself to be electrocuted and die,  I reach through the smoke to unplug the microwave. I accidentaly unplug the kettle instead. Bracing myself to be electrocuted and die, again, I reach through the smoke again, to unplug the microwave. 

The microwave is finally off and the noise stops. The kitchen is full of smoke.I’m in full problem solving mode now and snapping at my supervisor like a drill seargant. Close the kitchen door so no customer can see us! Open all the windows! Waft away the smoke! ONLY once the windows are open and we’re confident air is ciruclating through the room will we open the microwave door  and air it out! 

Supervisor is standing stock still , initally in the kitchen doorway but finally comes inside and stands in the middle of the floor. Another team member, who was walking past and heard the commotion, helps me open the windows and clear the smoke. 

We open the microwave and I realise why it caught fire - there’s nothing inside. 

‘Never run a microwave with nothing in it!’ I’m not exactly yelling, but I don’t say it calmly, that’s for sure. 

‘Jen said to test the appliances...’ Supervisor explains sadly. 

‘Test it with a cup of water or something.You basicaly made a bomb! Don’t you know how microwaves work?!’

The team member who stopped to help me is cracking up.

I appreciate her help but send her away as quickly as possible - she get’s migraines and I don’t want the smoke or anything to trigger one. Supervisor watches us work and only as the other staff member leaves do I realise she has basically barely moved a muscle, and still has her ‘frightened chihuahua’ vibe.

This is when I start to feel bad. I apologise, say I’m sorry for yelling and snapping. I didn’t mean it, I just got a fright cause I thought there was going to be a fire or something. I ask did she also get a fright, and is she ok? Supervisor finally moves - runs over to give me a big hug. I pat her on the back for a long time.

We go back into the office once we’ve made sure everything is safe. Jen, without looking up from her laptop, asks vaguely ‘Were you calling me?’

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Painful- Sam Wilson x OC

Sam Wilson x Amy Penn

Description: Every few months when Amy’s powers change her body has to deal with the aching pain of losing one power and gaining the next, it’s basically like periods but full body aches from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. Thankfully, she has Sam there to help her through it.

Word Count: 1.8k

Amy had a very special set of powers, that much was obvious to anyone and everyone who knew of her. Those special powers came with some very special side effects. With every month came a different zodiac power. Amy’s body has to basically turn a switch as her new powers come. It’s a lot for a person’s body to go through one specific change, but it’s even worse when one has to go through that every single month. They’re very similar to period pains, but Amy’s are from head to toe.

Cancer and Leo season were always the worst for her. During Cancer season, she had the power of energy healing, which meant that she could heal physical, emotional, energetic and mental wounds with energy. For Leo season, she has the power of electrokinesis, in which she could manipulate electrical currents.

To go from being able to heal people to potentially hurting them really took quite a bit out of her. When the seasons changed, her body had to catch up from all the healing she did, even the smallest injuries, before she could get her electrokinesis. Only then could she begin getting used to having that power, which also took a little time. Amy couldn’t begin to count how many times she’d accidentally shocked herself because she hadn’t been aware that her body had moved on from healing to controlling electricity.

The one good thing that she got out of it was Sam, he was quite literally an angel sent from above. Amy told him about what happened every month long before they’d even started dating, when they had been just friends. He knew what to expect from times like this, and therefore he knew what to do at this point. There was a lot of trial and error trying to figure out the best way to make her feel better, but they finally got results.

Sam wanted to be there for his girlfriend every single month, so he learned what days the zodiac seasons change. That way he could begin preparing for when it did happen. That’s what led them to today. The morning of July 23, Sam awoke to a text.

Amy: And so it begins…

He didn’t have to ask her to know what she was talking about.

Sam: I’ll be there in 30

Amy: 💖

Amy was in absolute agony. She woke up pretty early because of an ache in her hands, and it gradually spread through her entire body. Her head was pounding, she had massive cramps and her hands were killing her. She couldn’t do much aside from curl up under the covers and cry every so often, as one does.

At around 10:00 a.m. she faintly heard her front door unlock then open. She wasn’t worried though, she knew who it was. She and Sam had been dating long enough that they were comfortable giving each other a key to their respective houses. Sam obviously used his more, but there were several times where he would come home and she would be on his couch.

Sam didn’t say anything as he made his way through the house, which Amy appreciated immensely. He knew better, and he was aware of how bad her migraines could get. The girl’s eyes opened just a bit when her bedroom door slowly swung open. A grocery bag rustled, which made her smile as she carefully turned over to face her door.

“Hey,” she muttered, setting the tone of their conversation’s volume.

“Morning,” he responded in the same tone walking over to the bed. Before reaching it, he took a second to close her curtains so no sunlight could bother her, and Amy fought the urge to cry with relief.

“Have you eaten today?” Amy just barely managed to shake her head, even then her eyes clenched together to stop her head from attempting to fall off her neck.

“You need to eat so you can take your medicine,” he reminded her, setting the bag down on the nightstand. “What are you hungry for?”

“Leftovers,” she mumbled quietly, though Sam could still hear her.

“Yes ma’am,” he joked, leaning down to press a small kiss to her cheek. Amy couldn’t help but smile as he walked out. She sat up slowly and grabbed the bag. As she looked through its contents, she could faintly hear her boyfriend microwaving her leftover Thai food from the night before.

Just a minute later he walked back in with food and a glass of water in hand and took a seat beside her. She ate in silence for a few minutes before deciding that she didn’t like how quiet it was.

“How’s your sister?” She asked softly.

“Sarah’s good. She said AJ and Cass want to see you soon,” he responded, kicking off his shoes to sit on the bed more comfortably.

“Maybe we can plan a trip to Louisiana,” Amy offered as she finished her food. That made Sam grin and he nodded before grabbing the bag from her lap. He handed her some painkillers then the glass of water.

“They had your prescriptions ready this morning, I went ahead and got them since I was already at the store,” he explained as she downed the pills and water.

“Ah, I see you’re slacking this month,” she teased weakly, which made him roll his eyes.

“I’m gonna choose to ignore that because you’re in pain, but just know that you’re on thin ice,” he jokingly threatened. Amy stuck her tongue out at him before grinning.

“How sweet,” she responded in the same tone before digging into the bag and grabbing a tube of muscle cream. That was for her hands, it was like a lotion that she rubbed into them that would relieve them of their aches. Sam, however, grabbed it and put some on his hands, beginning to massage it into her hands.

“You don’t have to do that Sammy,” she muttered.

“I know, doesn’t make me want to any less,” he responded simply, continuing his task. The girl shook her head but closed her eyes as a smile slipped onto her face, the cream already beginning to work its magic.

Once he finished, he held out his arms, which Amy cuddled into. Both took a moment to get comfortable, in which they laid down with Amy’s head on her boyfriend’s chest. His hand began running up and down her back soothingly while she attempted to run her fingers through his very short hair. They had no idea how long they laid like that, but apparently it was long enough for Amy to fall asleep.

When she awoke, it was still dark. This time it was because the sun was setting rather than the drawn curtains. After gathering her bearings, she slowly sat up and looked around. Sam was no longer laying beside her, but he hadn’t left because his car was still outside. Amy’s headache had subsided enough that she could turn on a light. She reached over to her bedside lamp, only to hiss as she was shocked by the appliance. Her gaze fell to her hand in surprise, that was possibly the quickest power transition she’d ever gone through. A bright smile appeared on her face and she hopped up, eager to tell her boyfriend the happy news.

She paused in the doorway when she heard multiple people talking. Though she recognized the new voices, she couldn’t name them. So, she walked back into her room and made sure she looked presentable before continuing to walk out.

“What’s going on, AJ?” Sam questioned, which made Amy’s eyebrows shoot up. AJ his nephew?

“The light won’t turn on,” she heard a younger voice complain from the kitchen. “I can’t see anything.” A small smirk appeared on her face as an idea came to mind. She knew that her little incident with the lamp probably caused that, so she would have to help them out. Someone walked towards the kitchen, and Amy was forced to move back into the shadows so they wouldn’t see her. It was Sam, she didn’t need the light to see that. She stepped as close as she could without being seen by anyone and lifted one hand towards the kitchen, feeling the electricity run through her veins. Without a word, she focused on the kitchen light shortly before it came on.

“Woah, that was like magic,” AJ said, sounding like he was in awe as he looked around.

“It’s not magic,” Sam responded knowingly before turning around. “Amy, I know it’s you.” The girl couldn’t help but smile and she did as he said.

“Aunt Amy!” Both AJ and Cass exclaimed in unison, the latter from the living room, before running towards her. She giggled then opened her arms for them, only to nearly fall over from the force of them reaching her at the same time to hug her.

“Be careful guys,” Sarah scolded softly, standing from the couch she and Cass had previously been sitting on. “She’s probably still a little weak.”

“Don’t worry Sarah, I can handle them,” Amy responded lightheartedly and she rubbed the boys’ backs. The woman grinned then made her way over to the trio. AJ and Cass moved away so their mother could hug her.

“I didn’t know you guys were coming up here,” Amy mentioned as they pulled away. “I wish you would have told me.”

“Well, the boys wanted to see their Uncle Sam and Aunt Amy before school started again, so I figured why not surprise them?” Sarah shrugged as the four of them made their way back to the living room. “Looks like we got here just in time too, Sam tells us that you weren’t feeling too hot.”

“Yeah,” Amy sighed as she took a seat beside Sarah on the couch. “It’s just some side effects of my powers though. Seriously, I’m already feeling better,” she added when Sarah shot her an incredulous look. The woman conceded after a minute and they continued their conversation happily.

“You guys thirsty?” Sam questioned, walking back into the living room with three glasses of what looked to be sweet tea.

“Absolutely,” Amy responded, reaching over to relieve him of one glass. Sam gasped when he was shocked as their fingers brushed together. While the girl giggled, he shot her an unimpressed look, though he couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto his face.

“Watch it missy,” he scolded playfully, handing a glass to his sister before sitting on the other side of Amy. His free arm around his girlfriend and he joined into her and Sarah’s conversation while the kids continued to mess around on the floor. After a small while, Amy looked around then grinned. She hated when her powers changed, but it was worth it to be comforted by people she loved afterwards.

[builder051]

Hildur and Pierce part 2 (OC fic)

Pierce gazes down at the coffee table to give his eyes a break from the glare of the TV.  The half-finished dish of microwave mac and cheese stares back.  He’s not inclined to eat any more, and he really should put it away before the cat decides it’ll make a nice dinner for her as well.  But he’s even less inclined to get up from the old armchair that’s suctioning him down to the earth.  Pierce considers the fork sticking up from the bowl and wonders if he could sever his head with it if he really tried.

The throb circling his right temple is edging up to severe, and the pain is beginning to ricochet down to his stomach.  An isolated headache is easy to deal with.  A migraine, though, not so much.  It would be intelligent to turn off the TV and try to go to sleep, but the murmuring voices of Cary Grant and Grace Kelly are soothing under the screen’s obliterating brightness.  At least that’s what he tells himself.

Pierce lets his eyes float closed.  Has he taken Excedrin yet?  He can’t remember.  Jagged-edged neon yellow shapes dance on the back of his eyelids, and fog seems to be pouring into his ears, muddling his thoughts into a multi-sensory mish mosh.

The quiet sounds of the old movie taper into end credits music that lulls Pierce into semi-relaxation.  Vertigo bobs gently through his body, and with his eyes shut he can almost imagine he’s standing on the bow of an ocean liner, peering into a distant sunset…

Then his phone begins to ring.  Pierce scrambles to grab it from the coffee table and jam it to his ear.

“Hello?”  He thoroughly expects it to be his mother.

“Um.  Hi.  Peabody?  I mean, Professor?”

“Huh?”  Definitely not his mom.

“It’s, uh, Hildur.  From your painting class?”

Oh.  The day’s events speed back into Pierce’s recollection and collide like train cars behind his aching forehead.  The girl who’d gotten sick, left her coat.  The girl he’d called.  Left the weirdly romantic message.  Wished he could crawl under a rock.

“Hi.  Are you feeling better?”  Awkward for him to ask, given the current state of his own well-being.  And is he starting to slur?  He hopes it’s a hallucination on his end.

“I, uh, yeah.  I’m ok.”

“That’s…” Pierce’s mind is fuzzy.  He knows what he wants to say; it’s on the tip of his tongue. But he doesn’t feel confident it’ll come out the way he intends.  “That’s goo…se.  That’s good.” Damn aphasia.  Pierce takes a stabilizing breath and tries to shake it off.  “I have your coach.  I mean, coat…”  His jaw’s starting to feel slightly unhinged.

“Are you ok?” Hildur asks, concern coming through the slightly staticky phone line.

“Yeah.”  Pierce realizes he may sound drunk.  “It’s a head…ace.”  That’s not right.  “Head…ace. Migr…ation.”  His own voice sounds like he’s underwater, gargling and spitting out bubbles with each word.

“Peabody?  What’s wrong?”

“I’m ff—s’a ok.  Head…oh goddamnit.”  Why is it he never forgets or stumbles over swear words?

“Are you having a stroke?”

Pierce exhales a strain of disconnected syllables which are supposed to mean that he’s absolutely fine, but betray pretty much the opposite.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” Hildur says with a note of fear.

“I—no.  ‘S fi…se. No.”

“No?  But there’s something going on.  You’re not well…”

“’s fine,” Pierce manages to whisper.

“What’s your address?”

He does his best to articulate 114 Bledsoe Street apartment 4b, but Pierce is pretty sure it sounds more like a groan.  Each breath is starting to edge up the throbbing in his head and push his stomach further into his throat.

“I can’t understand you.  I’m going to call 911.”  Hildur’s voice cracks, like she’s about to cry.

“No!” Pierce says with as much force as he can muster.

“Um.  Ok.  If you can text me your address in the next 5 minutes, I’ll believe you,” Hildur says. “But it sounds like you need help.  I’m going to hang up, and if I don’t hear from you, I’m calling 911.”

“Osh,” Pierce sighs.  It was supposed to sound more like ok.

The line goes dead against his ear, and he lets his hand and his phone fall limply into his lap.  If there’s one thing he doesn’t need, it’s an ambulance ride to the ER charged to his lame-ass university-provided health insurance and billed to him.  Pierce squints at the device’s over-bright screen and starts a new text.  The sparkles in his vision nearly block out the conversation bubble he’s typing in, and he’s having a hard time telling the 1 from the 7.  It takes what feels like an insane amount of time, and his street name is misspelled, but finally he sends the message that seems to heavily hold his fate.

The speech bubble on the small screen whizzes from the bottom to the top of the space, and watching it brings on a massive wave of nauseous dizziness.  Pierce leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees and bury his face in his hands.  He shoves his glasses up on top of his head, and he hears his phone tumble to the carpeted floor.  It chimes as a new text message arrives, but he doesn’t make an attempt to read it.  Pierce feels like he’ll float out of earth’s gravitational pull, losing his stomach contents all the way, if he so much as lifts his head.

And even sitting still, it’s not long before his mouth’s full of saliva and his jaw feels like it’s resting on the floor.  He heaves himself out of the armchair and makes for the bathroom, tripping over the cat in the process.  “Sorry, Mimi,” Pierce mutters, though the utterance brings on the first acidic gag.  He sinks to his knees and rests his forehead on the toilet seat.  The slight scent of bleach on the toilet water sends his sinuses into an explosion of pain, and he retches up a wave of undigested dinner and bitter coffee.

Pierce lurches forward to drape over the toilet as he vomits again.  Pressure builds in his head, and bile burns his throat, leaving him feeling even more awful.  He manages to disentangle the nose pads of his glasses from his hair and drop the lightweight frames onto the counter above his head. Pierce hears them clatter into the sink.

It takes what feels like forever for his stomach to empty.  Each retch seems to take ages to build up with a fresh layer of sweat over his brow and the feeling of his entire torso trying to force itself up and out of him.  Finally he begins to dry heave, which is good news for his stomach, but still bad for his head.  The pain in his temple is akin to the strike of a hammer against a stubborn nail, and it continues to ripple out over his entire head and down into his body.

Someone’s knocking on the door.  Pierce starts, and vertigo assaults him as he reaches up to use the towel rack to pull himself upright.  He’s initially confused.  It’s night.  No one ever visits him.

“Peabody?!”  The shout is slightly hysterical, and definitely feminine.

Then he recalls the phone call, the text message.  “Coming,” Pierce grunts in a hoarse whisper. Hildur won’t be able to hear him from this distance, but it’s a small comfort that his ability to form words seems to be at least somewhat functional again.

His hand is trembling as he reaches out to open the door, and Pierce leans heavily on the polished brass knob as soon as it’s swung inward.  Hildur’s standing there, panting, on the doorstep, but she looks nothing like he’s seen before.  Her face is ashen, and the long hair poking out of the front of her hood is pure white.

“H…Are you ok?” Pierce asks before he has to forcefully swallow what feels like more stomach acid creeping up his throat.

“No, I, uh, it doesn’t matter,” Hildur mutters.  “What happened?  You’re really unwell.”

“It’s just a migraine,” Pierce sighs.  He can’t hold back a gag, and he presses the thumb-side of his fist to his mouth.  “Damnit.  Hold on,” he manages before returning to the bathroom.

Pierce belches wetly over the toilet.  A trickle of bile comes up and clings to his lower lip.  He paws at the toilet paper roll and tears off a piece to wipe his mouth, then does a double take. Hildur’s followed him in, and is now sitting calmly on the mat in front of the sink.

“You don’t—you should go.  I’m not, uh, I’m not sick.  You’re sick, you should go home…”  He’s rambling a bit.

“I’m fine,” Hildur assures him.  “What do you need?  I, um.  Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

“It’s ok,” Pierce whispers through the square of toilet paper he’s loosely holding over his mouth. “I just get bad migraines sometimes.  Aura, aphasia, it’s all scary stuff, but it’s, uh, it’s not serious.”  He leans into the corner between the wall and the bathtub and tips his head back to see if it has any effect on the dizziness.  It doesn’t.  But when he looks back at Hildur, there’s a hint of color in her cheeks, and her hair is pale straw gold.

“Whoa,” Pierce breathes.  “Is, um?  Sorry, I might be seeing things.  Is your hair a different color?  Than it just was?”

Hildur looks down.  “Oh.”  The soft curls seem to shine and lighten before settling back to thesunkissed shade.  “Um.  Yes.”

“What…?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hildur says.  “It just happens.  It’s, just, I don’t know.  Kind of embarrassing.”

“’S fine,” Pierce murmurs.  He suspends his face between his hands as a fresh wave of vertigo splashes up from his feet.  “You really can go.”

“Yeah.  You, um.  You don’t seem like you should be alone like this.”  She gestures a bit toward his huddled frame.

“I promise, I’ll be fine,” Pierce says.  Though at the same time, he thinks he should creep closer to the toilet again.  He reaches out and uses the toilet seat as an anchor to drag himself across the tile before the heave materializes.

Pierce’s face is hovering below the ring of the toilet when he hears Hildur say softly, “Well, maybe I want to stay.”

[elizabethrobertajones]

12x14 watching notes

this show normally never makes me cry except that 1 episode in season 7, but god dammit Berens got me TWICE I’m disowning him

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Expectations - it's the 14th episode of the season. (This isn't snark, have you ever gone back and looked at the 14th episode of the season since, say, oh, season 9? Talk about a winning streak you don't want to break :P)

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I woke up with a migraine which is getting worse after being up for like... half an hour... so I'm just launching straight into watching it before today is totally ruined.

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At this point from the recap I genuinely can't tell if there's a meta point to make about Dean as a killer and vampires, or you can't recap it without implying it because vampires are just that tied to Dean's identity as a hunter/killer

- or, well, that arc that Buckleming anvil'd Mary onto last episode where Ketch told her SHE was a killer. 

For what it's worth, they picked 1x20 and 6x05/6x07 to use the most of instead of the sympathetic vamps from later. NOT any of the Gordon stuff visibly on screen. Missed the boat on using "see you next season" in the recap. Anyway, lots of reminders of vampires as a monster; the Twilight knock off vampires, the alpha vamp because duh but in his season 6, not 7, iteration, and of course mixed with Dean's reaction to vampires, him saying it gets funnier every time, and reminders of the time Dean WAS a vampire, to make it Dean-focused.

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I guess Ketch using the rocket launcher was so expensive they're always gonna show it and you know what if every episode for the rest of the season starts with Cas staring down that explosion I'm all for it. Anyway, reminder that they blast vampires with radiation, which I'm sure won't cause any problems this episode, and a recap of why we don't trust them.

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Season 1 Colt recapping - it's kind of terrifying to see tiny season 1 Sam n Dean on screen when you're not prepared for it at this point. It's like looking at their own children or something. John continues not existing in the narrative except for a faceless appearance of his arm handing the Colt to Dean. It's significant that vampires were the first reason to use the Colt, that John then gave it to Dean the episode after and passed on the revenge arc to him, and that Dean then used it to fulfil it. We also see Dean pointing it AT "John" in 1x22 and Sam failing to shoot Azazel in 1x21, and MARY'S repeat of of the "There's only 5 things in creation it can't kill" which blurs her, Samuel and Lucifer nicely >.>

Then of course the horror of 1x01 on screen (AAAH SMOLLEST WINCHESTERS) "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam asks, cut immediately to Mary like "Nothing comes before my family" before the only 3 lines you need from 12x13 about their argument re: Sam and Dean being a little suspicious of her and then Mary being like "hi you need to be a lot susicious of me".

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The Margikugel beer is in pride of place in this shot

"Just hear me out." "Wow... Just, wow." Oh no, there Dean goes, freezing her out like he said they had in the promo from slightly later in the episode >.>

This angle on the war room table always makes it look like a coffin.

Mary makes some defences that she's aware that the BMoL kinda suck and Sam cuts into that with "When." Mary answers with exactly what he wanted to hear which was "exactly how much has this already screwed us over" so she phrases her answer by measuring time with common era as "the lake house" which I'm pretty sure was that time travel romance with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves.

Mmmokay Dean uses "Cas almost died" against Mary and I've decided that's something I really hoped would happen but now I heard it it just feels terrible :P Like, it's weighing their stock against each other and Cas obviously outweighs Mary on found family points in almost infinite supply and now Mary's being tested not on abstract family love from blood ties, but the gritty stuff, and... yeah. Looks bad, Mary. Cas is their most treasured family for like however many years before you come back and then you get him hurt >.>

Oh and then Sam's like "a hunter died" I mean talk about the personal with Cas and Dean vs impersonal with Sam and some other perspective thing they do *all* the time. Is that like, the star example now?

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"I watch him die every night" YOu weren't even theeeere

(Also Wally was married apparently... yikes. Piling on the angst.)

"Good." Oh dear, that's the "You're dead to me" look. Mary probably shouldn't start cataloguing these looks to chide Dean about...

[title card]

[ow]

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Ooh is this like the Campbell's compound? Looks like Mary's gone dark, literally, wearing her dark beanie hat and Mary-sized version of Ketch's going around killing things suit. I wonder if they also give her fancy tailored suits for their down time. Anyway I have no idea why the BMoL have access to such a thing - you'd have to assume they have internal help here, Muggle proofing if not, or are ready to deal with the problems of randomly making an armed compound in the wilderness in America.

Or they're on a remote industrial estate in Northumberland.

TBH if they're just bribing local authorities to look the other way while creating a massive armed compound full of foreigners I wouldn't actually be that surprised.

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More random egg shaped BMoL devices. Some BMoL version of Q really has a thing for that shape. "Gonna spray paint it gold." "WHY. What about stealth?" "They ain't gonna need stealth with whatever this egg thingy does"

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Mary and Ketch both space out remembering what the gold whistling egg thingy did. Ketch looks slightly turned on. Mary looks like she's having a bit of fridge horror about what her job currently involves. It definitely feels like she's washed up in a dystopian future and I think we should be treating her POV on it like "time traveller to the far flung future where everything is awful" and not like any continuation of the world she used to know >.>

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Ah they're living in shipping containers. This is now definitely the Doctor Who vibe I got from the promo and didn't want to mention anything about because Tumblr vs Doctor Who these days, but shh I'm both nostalgic for RTD era and British, okay. It looks like those episodes where they just show up on a research base on some planet/under the sea/in space which is a bunch of shipping containers bolted together, with a high tech interior, and then shit goes down on the tiny enclosed shipping containers, with a great cast of random one off characters who usually get eaten >.>

Also this means the BMoL basically just shipped over a base and plonked it in the American wilderness and have a sort of razor wire over the fence keeping the monsters out mentality about it. They've seen just enough Doctor Who (it's a national passtime) to know what to do here, and America is all full of ikky monsters, and should definitely be treated like a hostile alien environment.

I suppose this is their "embassy" for their diplomatic mission and I am rabidly curious about how it looks to the locals, because the Campbell compound at least had that American survivalist weirdoes feel to it, where you kinda know there's a strange local family on their huge compound out of town and they all have guns but you just... don't ask questions and hope they're only waiting for the Rapture or something.

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So it turns out Ketch is a total dick. Surpriiise. I hope Serena kills him and survives the episode. "I have three phds" - she's the hyper competent one who in Doctor Who would probably end up being the only one knowing how to press some button and stay behind to save everyone and get ejected into space or something. Or be the only survivor because she's smart and the Doctor appreciates her :P I have no idea why I'm making this into Dr Who cross over territory but I'm just waiting for the other personnel here to fit some of the usual tropes.

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Mary in a tank toooop

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Surprise surprise it's Dean she's been texting and is morosely checking her phone about instead of Sam, but if she tried him, the other promo video showed that he's attempting to make peace. Winchesters, I swear. *shakes head*

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They do all look good in tank tops though

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OH NO more conversation.

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"Our whole lives, you've been GONE" Oh DEAN this is... the kind of stuff I have been expecting/wishing they'd say to Mary and it's so terrible that they CAN'T COMMUNICATE so it takes something so ridiculously messed up to make them talk about something like this.

They're FINALLY telling each other how hard it has been to deal with being back/having her back... and because they left it so long, it's all fucked up :(

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*sits here misery-eating an apple* I might have go to get the giant box of waffles downstairs and eat them if it gets any worse than "How about for once you try and be a mom!?" "I am your mother!" (so they have 2 different definitions of this - Dean wants her to ACT like it, she's using it like a title, and to HER that has all that complicated and REAL love but it's all so abstract from what Dean WANTS and AAAH) "But I am NOT just a 'mom'" And that's all I wanted out of this season but it's so painful I just wanna find the receipt and return it :P "And you are not a child" "I never was" bonus thing I only hoped in my wildest dreams we'd get out of the season but I feel like every single Dean!girl just took a critical hit and is laying on the floor in agony...

brb finding the floor

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"between us and them" "yeah MARY it is" 

oh great she's not "mom" any more with the title to Dean... 

"and you made your choice"

I can't believe there's actually a scene worse than 6x20's confrontation out there like how does that even happen

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Oh Sam, sitting here watching all that while Dean speaks for the both of you :S

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But he gets up and follows Dean

"You should go" It's more neutral, not judging her per say but obviously she can't be here while Dean has told her to leave and Sam can't take her side, he can just... not intentionally cast her out.

The stuff between him and Mary is stuff from the past - the stuff from 4x03. The stuff between DEAN and Mary is his early childhood vs what's going on NOW. Sam and Mary stuff is being dealt with another way - this is the Dean part of the arc and Sam has to give up his mother for it

Argh >.>

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Well that was horrible but I really appreciate the BMoL compound set.

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"We already have the best Winchester"

uh

I have a pretty compelling argument for all 3 of the others (the third being Cas :P)

Obviously they did not see the footage of Dean in Purgatory

Or any time Sam does the shoulders thing

I mean Mary's great and all but... we've seen 12 years of Sam and Dean being incredible hunters so it's a bad argument to the audience :P

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Ketch and Mick do have an interesting dynamic, I'll give them that. Mick made Ketch kinda smile. Mick's happy at his desk job. Please let him get menaced by a vampire and scream a lot. It's all I ask for after that heartbreak. Lighthearted goofy vampire episode.

(Okay Berens is like, angst central. I think he couldn't write goofy if he tried but that's not why we love him :P)

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Anyway someone higher up wants Sam and Dean recruited - right when the whole Mary thing seems to have cut ties forever and lost all chance they'd EVER consider it since it's now the face of Betrayal and Families Being Shattered and all.

I guess 12x06 establishes that the Winchesters are semi-legendary themselves (although a very dubious look from Dean about the stories told about him) and Wally also seemed to idolise Dean in that diner scene. It's a fair chance the BMoL "Old Men" are right about this re: other hunters. Unlike Cas and his actions getting him kicked out of Heaven and losing all social standing with the angels, one way or another the Winchesters seem to have scraped by as admired figures in their community. Mom Winchester is not well-known and the Campbells lost all cred years ago after most of them were murdered by Azazel's lot and later Samuel's little group also ended up all dying and getting a lot of their hunters killed (6x07, which no one seems to remember or watch but DOES introduce alpha vamp so it's on my mind)... Not sure anyone knows them.

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Okay Sam's fucking around with the rings on the table but he's assembled them in such a way they look like a kid's toy - that one where you stack all the rings. Sam seems like he barely moved since the Mary thing, still being at the Conflict Table. Dean stormed off but now he's stormed back and this is the promo scene, so let's pay much closer attention to the words now I know the context...

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Ugh Dean not dealing. He just wants something to hit. While wearing that red shirt of his Mark of Cain murdery moments (10x10, 10x17)

What even IS Sam doing on his laptop if he isn't finding cases. 

Youtube. Happy dog videos.

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"Do you want to talk about it" "Not really." *starts talking about it unprompted*

Dean's stewed on it, Sam has got all philosophical about it, once again putting his own feelings to the side to think about how Mary feels. "She must have had a good reason" Argh he's just... so good... I love him.. This episode is making me love all the Winchesters (Mary included) more than I thought possible. I am in paaain.

I'm totally gone on this family. I love them.

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"For once why don't you pick a side?" FINALLY we see what Sam was hiding on his phone - that he's been staring sadly at all the messages from Mary. Who is not saved as "mom" in his phone as she was in Dean's, right? I should go check that.

oh god she was in 12x04, when Dean was still asking if it was weird to call her mom or not

and then he called her "mary" cold as anything

*I* need a drink

(went and got chilli hot chocolate)

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Anyway yeah the trouble with telling someone to pick a side is that they may pick the one you don't want and Sam's last message from Mary was that she had urgent business to meet him, while Mary's last text to Dean was just that she wanted to talk to him in a way that was still clearly about the fight. "urgent" implies new developments, a reason to go... Does she KNOW that the BMoL want to snare her sons or is she walking into it by just wanting to reconcile?

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Sam goes to at least give the other side a chance, even if he's not picking it.

Also is he driving a rental car. It doesn't look so much like the car Soulless Sam had but it's certainly not the junkers and stolen cars and vans Sam's used before.

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Also did she just go and give Sam the address of this place??? Not even meeting at a diner or something? I suppose it is a cool set.

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Sam gives the compound a weird look like "wtf" as a sort of incidental moment when Mary references it

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Anyway ARGH Mary telling him she's working with the BMoL so that there's a world without monsters - the magical endgame where the world is totally normal (but how do you stop witches and ghosts and all the stuff that happens in a world which is not like "Our" one in the French Mistake, where no magic at all happened... you'll ALWAYS need hunters) if she doesn't want to be JUST their apple pie mom, but to be a hunter too, she's taking away her OWN way of living in an attempt to save them from their version of normal life

That Sam says he's chosen. Argh, after all that waffling about whether he wanted to, or that he was only doing it because Dean is... I think when he gets to Mary saying that, suggesting a world where it's not their life and no chance of going back... Maybe he really feels it for the first time? 

(”Normal life” ignoring, of course, ghosts and the fact unless you turn off magic and delete Heaven and Hell, there will ALWAYS be shit going on... Seasons 1-2 are the "normal" baseline type of this world, minus the extra demon activity attempting to destabilise it. And Sam and Dean mostly worked on ghosts, magic, and generic monsters, in a way that these things were just a part of the background of the world. Stuff like Provenance or Bloody Mary or Asylum were cases deeply rooted in their own history and with a long story behind them before the Winchesters stumbled into them, stuff John had been keeping notes on for years without tackling it, or had collected only half the picture. Or stuff which had been out in the world and would always have surfaced and kept on killing people if hunters hadn't helped. Stuff like that, you can't stop just by obliterating all the vampires. Monsters were isolated and stuff like the wendigo *takes a shot* were the sort of thing that just sort of happens, a horrible natural phenomenon along the lines of ghosts being created...)

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I do wonder with Mary saying they can have normal lives, how much 2x20 is haunting this entire season as well, because the entire burden there that turned Dean to go save himself and go back to the shitty world where he was a hunter, was to hunt and save people. He even gave up being with Mary and Sam who was happy and with Jess and safe from the whole demon blood arc, because people had DIED. But Mary's djinn dream I think would be eerily similar to that one - one where the responsibility was off them and they could be themselves but not hunters. It's interesting to look at what she wishes - or the one that's been planted in her head, because she is echoing the "world without monsters" thing... She too has hunting in her blood and 12x06 showed that too, that she never could give it up. She's been paralleled to Dean a lot with that, and 2x20 is the episode where Dean is finally after wanting to give up all of season 2, brought to a point of decision and commits to, I guess, being a hunter for life and giving up that normal world where everyone's happy and at peace.

Same decision from season 5/6 - that "peace or freedom" talk Dean and Cas had.

Now it's Mary's turn to go through the same arc. She's going for, essentially, something we can parallel to the Archangels and their idea of paradise where everything is perfect. Dean kept talking about it being "stepford" then...

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Oh noooo she brought up Sam going to school oh noooo

Why is every line in this dang episode just pure pain

where are my goofy vampires

"You've got to understand, things are going to change" Yeah, their plans are already underway and the threat is not going to be stopped by JUST talking Mary out of helping them. Have you seen the compound?

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Uhoh Sam and Mary are walking in step. He's like... so much more leg than her

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And Mary shows Sam the control room so he can SEE that the BMoL are already deeply underway with their thing.

Since he and Dean are separated the vibes I'm getting are 9x17 (maybe because Mittens was talking about it yesterday) but because at the end of that having seen Abaddon's soul mining operation, Sam comes back and sits with Dean and is way more onboard with taking her down than before and it unites them... Not saying that will happen here (more likely it will be subverted some way) but Sam's getting a peek behind the curtain at what the bad guys are up to while Dean's off drinking and moping around (see also, 10x17 although that time Sam was actively trying to save Dean while he was drinking also we now have at least 3 episodes were Sam and Dean were separated and the main reason given was that Dean was off drinking, this is getting PAINFUL)

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"The Brits talk like they're roughing it" yeah you can't get the right fuckin' tea in America, you have to bring all your own teabags and then Americans make fun of you for it. And there aren't any jaffa cakes! What the hell!!

Sam sees Mick and is like "!!!" Mick sees him and is like "!!!" and then it's super awkward.

Yeah don't shake his hand, Sam.

"Yeah, um, I really dig the whole low budget Mission Impossible vibe, but I'm going to head back." I LOVE WHEN SAM DOES THE POP CULTURE SNARK

He's much quieter than Dean, so without him around he really gets to shine :P

Also amused at the budget comment because obviously Supernatural can not have the same budget as MI

-

"Sammeh!" I love it when he does that. I guess he's stumbling in drunk. The shot of the sword to introduce us back to the Bunker was actually TERRIFYING. It also had an empty glass and whiskey decanter so I guess the bros or at least Dean have been wandering around the Bunker drinking everything/everywhere. >.> 

Nice establishing shot.

-

Sam's note is not in upper case something is WRONG

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Dean discovers MORE empty decanters and bottles. Wow you hit it hard. You should probably listen when Ramiel tells you you all have fucked up livers.

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I'm assuming this is like 12x01 and the Bunker is "not safe" but this time the threat is real and not a fake out that it's Cas coming home

and also Dean doen't have his mom with him :(

-

Wait no apparently they knock

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Heeeey it's the other people I was expecting from the generic Dr Who cast. Geek with long hair and curly haired dude. Serena to keep them all in line. Mick as the weird sketchy boss.

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Sam is the Doctor in this scenario, FYI

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Tall and knows better than them.

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"Hello mate"

I mean at least he knocked

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I love Dean and Ketch looking each other up and down.

Also Ketch doesn't think he's as good as Mary, so tension - and not just that he wants to recruit Dean, but that Dean has to pass his opinion of whether he's good or not.

This should probably end with Dean and Ketch like, grappling each other.

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"how did you find us" "this is a Men of Letters Bunker"

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Wow Dean being bribed with rare scotch. I'm reminded both of Crowley in general and how Dean won entrance with Rufus back in 3x15

but also think that his alcoholism needs to be addressed and he should, like, chill, because I swear he just CAME from getting a drink and he's already desperate for another, enough to let Ketch in >.> Bad idea, he’s like a vampire. The regular non spn sort.

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I mean his alcoholism has been mentioned a few times, especially with the liver comment

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Awww curly haired dude is an American hunter, so there's only like, 3 Brits here.

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"Serena Coleman" - because of the twilight episode reference I'm just reminded of using the actor's names so blatantly. Serena was already dressed like whatserface played by Jenna COLEMAN as a Dr Who reference but now this? Like, I have no idea if this is just confirmation bias but I really hope someone else got such ridiculous vibes from it as me :P

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I am really quite disturbed by how many different countries they're operating in

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241 vampires in the mid west. That's REALLY not a lot when you think about it, I mean, comparing them to demographics of people. Assuming the BMoL have been wiping them out with a focused effort, still means there really aren't that many in general. I mean, back in season 1 & 2 they were recovering from being nearly hunted to extinction by hunters like Gordon and Dean spent a lot of season 10 killing vampires... I am reminded a lot of Eve talking about the natural order, about how a few of her children killed a few of the humans, and they killed a few but not ALL of them... a sort of equilibrium. And the natural order of how this world runs IS important and rarely mentioned. I've been thinking about Eve a lot in relation to this episode without knowing how to bring her into it really, but I guess this a good wedge to get her in >.>

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ACK there's only 11 vampires left

that's just scary

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*gratutious vampire flashbacks*

Oh they are so scary. I actually feel sorry for the vampires just for the fact the BMoL are so ruthlessly efficient and deal with the vampires this way, which makes you scared about how any organisation with the right resources could watch and profile in this way...

And we know the vampires can be SO much more complicated, like Lenore or Benny...

I mean they don't know about the cure, the whole case by case basis of dealing with vampires in case it IS more complex and there's still some humanity in them/can be saved from them, which the one on one process of the Winchesters treating them less like statistics has done... I mean sure the whole waiting for a trail of bodies thing isn't ideal, but... doing the job HUMANELY stands out here.

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Sam looks like he's rooting for the vampires too. :S

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Oh no, now some sympathetic vampires

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*feels sorry for them*

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Even while they're drinking human blood.

I mean I am literally in a blanket and have drunk hot chocolate to recover - she is very relatable

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ALPHA VAMP

Always got to have a dramatic entrance

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Oh dear, Dean and Ketch, savouring their drinks, the bottle in the neutral territory on the map between them. I've only watched them drink so far, and I can tell this is going to be a top 10 use of this table, ever.

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"Not much for small talk" He is when he likes you

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Ugh his face when he's talking about Toni. Ketch is not allowed to talk about women. He's disgusting and filled with hate, and this actually does make me like Toni a little better just because I resent him talking about her as a neurotic time bomb

Also Dean, I know you hate her but don't listen to this >.> Do not let him get to you a little by having a bonding moment over how awful she is. I know you are in a really dark place right now but don't make me go through this with you >.>

"We used to date" Ugh.

I actually now feel sorry for her :P 

Berens: most reliable un-Buckleming-er on the show.

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Ugh, I really hate this :P I mean, for Dean, because Ketch is intentionally channelling all the worst in him. This is where 12x11 and where I was horrified about Dean as an attack dog when it was all stripped away comes back. 

But he has a dual basic nature - SAVING PEOPLE, HUNTING THINGS. He was a sweet goof who loved and cared about people who were kind to him even when he had no idea between Sam or Rowena. He has a HEART. Ketch does not, but Dean has enough darkness in him to feel like he doesn't have a heart, and he's dealing with having told his mom where the door is. But he DOES have lightness in him. Ketch is like, dark side seducing him, with the whole "Inclinations" thing cluing us in it's queercoded and a seduction... This has happened to Dean before. He's wearing a red shirt he bought during the Mark of Cain crisis after CROWLEY dark side seduced him.

Of course that all involved the love triangle with Cas who represented the good side of Dean's duality for having an angel and a demon on his shoulder, and feeling the pull between them... Dean here is taking on Ketch alone and there's no pull in the other direction because Dean is isolated in the Bunker and Cas doesn't have an opposing role to the BMoL so he has no narrative tug back in the other direction, on the side of them having a HEART.

(I just watched 9x22 last night and I'm still dying about how much Dean loves Cas)

Anyway Ugh. I don't like the queercoded implications about demon!Dean that it seems more overt when he's evil and I don't particularly like that this is all Ketch "seducing" Dean to the dark by linking killing to that SO queer word "inclinations" about the both of them - I mean enough that Dean has to comment on it and wow that's a moment and a half, for the bi!Dean annuls, but UGH.

Have to stop and meta in 3 paragraphs about how Dean has a heart and isn't evil but is still queer and not because he's a killer >.>

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Jesus christ we're at the halfway point - this is like the opposite problem of a Buckleming episode. I know Berens can DESTROY me in about 2 minutes of screen time, so I'm just, like, permanently on edge.

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Anyway aside from everything else I hope Dean got to ride on the motorbike

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I mean that scene was just so harsh on Dean, with Ketch winning his way in with scotch, and then winning Dean out the door with the promise of vampires to kill that he couldn't find on his own earlier

(Big business came and stole all the work from small local businesses. They are a vampire hunting supermarket)

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Yeeeee Rufus mention.

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Aww poor terrible hunters. It's like Garth - "How are you still alive!?"

I'd say Pierce should probably be black if he's from Baton Rouge but honestly if he's meant to be a dingus, then all the good hunters are probably escaping this by bad association and we don't see a hapless idiot PoC hunter :P They're all the top shelf ones Ketch can't win over

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The ones who take pride in their work and have enough confidence in their skills to not want to go work for the big supermarket >.>

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*Dean disappointingly follows Ketch in the Impala*

They probably raced

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Checking out each other's equipment. Ketch opts to take one of Dean's knives. You know, Dean has a corrupting influence on everything he meets, I swear :P Like, Ketch was complaining it was too easy, but still just going along with his job, he meets Dean, seems to be off-assignment because he's just GONE to do it, no idea Sam wasn't even there tbh, but gets Dean, lures him out, and then Dean just has to make the old school way of hunting look cool by waving a knife around and suddenly Ketch wants in and also has a go at flipping a knife... And he's already getting “where are you??” messages from Mick. I mean, just the compulsion to meet the Winchesters on honest ground - now everything's in the open. He didn't even like them as much as Mary? But once he knows they need to be won over he goes to get at least one of them... But now he's not answering his mobile, and Dean's handed him a knife aaand

they really are being reckless by going in here alone without checking to see if something like the ALPHA VAMP isn't here

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Oh wait shit the vampires are coming to the BMoL

Maybe there really is nothing in the hotel

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Oh no there's just the sad vampire I was sorry for

Ketch don't you dare kill blanket vampire

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Okay, now Dean feels sorry for the vampires

That was a surprisingly short line to cross before Dean's like hey stop being mean to the monsters

HE HAS A HEART

I guess if we're subverting Bloodlust all you can do is make Dean not like the Gordon parallel even SOONER- in 2x03 he NEARLY fell for it... he WANTED to. He knows so much better now

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(Bennyyyy)

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This vampire looks EXACTLY like a girl I used to work with who coincidentally... was called Magda

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"Hunting... they went hunting." "Hunting whom?" "The hunters"

That was SUCH a good exchange. DRAMA. TENSION. SHEER TERROR ABOUT WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN TO BELOVED CHARACTERS

This season, notable exceptions, is SO much on its A game. Almost every episode has been like, High Drama.

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Vampire tiiiime

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Sam taking chaaaarge

I love it

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Aw no don't kill the one random black guy here. :<

WHY DID THEY LEAVE ALL THESE DOORS OPEN?

Is it because sealing yourself into shipping containers sucks and is probably airless and stinky?

At least in space they wouldn't have this problem

(In a good Doctor Who episode even the random guards would have names and personalities and a decent story arc for a side character even if they get killed... In this episode the guards aren't exactly the only hired muscle to save them because there's at least 3 hunters in the building and one of them is Sam Fucking Winchester, so he'd be more likely protecting the hired muscle regardless :P Not like killing them did anything but remove characters to worry about rather than raise the threat level that would be in an episode when everyone else was nerds instead of trained killers)

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Mick's got soft hands though

All I ask is one scream of horror

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"Our intel has him in Morocco. He's been there for at least the last decade." Sam, with barely a side glance, "Wrong."

Yeah that's been a theme all season and as far back as "Cassiel" - their intel SUCKS

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Read the Winchester Gospels

Or... don't. That actually turns you into an effective enemy

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I love when Sam's got the snarky interrogation face on. It's a fun Sam

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Mary's wearing basically Sam's red and black plaid but in a Dean way

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Oh Mick is scared

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And Sam has a headache at the stupid

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Considering there's only 3 hunters in the room they managed to scrounge up a lot of weapons.

Not enough...

"Where is it?" *significant looks* Okay, Sam's going to find out now. He's been much kinder towards Mary, obviously, even if he's still got a ton of issues and meant to leave when shit started happening, but... yeah. Is he as forgiving or at least willing enough to hear her out when THIS is revealed?

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*Mary side-glances at Sam*

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*sword in the stone moment for Sam*

Who is literally crying to have such awful history returned to him. He knows this weapon is cursed.

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I can't deal with Sam crying openly while writing the ingredients for the bullets and also the lore dump of how they make the damn things like AAH I ALWAYS WONDERED

And Mick's EYES. Like "what the fuck sort of hunters ARE these guys?"

This is what happens when you unexpectedly come across Legendary level hunters and you are all noobs

he's met the alpha, lived to tell the tale, and now is telling you how to make bullets that could kill him

-

Sam Fucking Winchester

(I just wanted to say that)

-

Oh the red flashy lights in the corridors is SO Doctor Who

-

It occurs to me that 11x14 also was the sort of episode that mimics the tropes of one of those but this one has the aesthetic.

-

I think Berens just wants to write for Doctor Who

-

Pleeease, two vampires against Sam Fucking Winchester

-

[slightly evil nyoooom] Nyooooom

-

Mick sounds scared while doing the incantation over the bullets. Hope it works.

-

Dude, don't stand with your back to the open door

-

... Amazingly that didn't take more than a second to pay off.

-

Noooooo Serena

I liked her :<

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*Sam Fucking Winchester kills everything*

-

Can't believe the blatant disrespect for England that the alpha vamp doesn't like us

-

Actually starting to worry Mick's last episode is right here and now :P

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Aww Mary is hurt and Sam's instinct is to be all "mom!" and help her

I am so emo about this family, help.

-

I am so with the alpha vamp

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I mean I will miss Mick but nah. Byeee.

-

Aww nope fortunes change all at once

-

*Mick legs it away from the alpha vamp and goes and stands behind all the hunters*

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"If that were true I'd be dead already" I bet the lore about the 5 things is both right and wrong at the same time - we KNOW it doesn't work on Lucifer, but I bet a ton of stuff pretends it won't work on them, and honestly Lucifer might not have been right about 5, and basically there's "recorded" like at least a dozen things it won't kill

but in this case Sam calls his bluff because the alpha vamp is still talking with the gun trained on him instead of just fighting them...

-

Anyway Sam's just like, ready to throw Mick to him

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"Who said I was here to save all of us. My family and I, we kill vamps when they get outta line. And you've LET us." "I have many children, Sam. What's one, two, here or there..." "Exactly! So? Let my mom and me go. We'll walk away, go back to the way things were. To the way things are SUPPOSED to be. Hunters and vampires. Cops and robbers! A fair fight!"

!!! I LOVE SAM SO MUCH

Also that "the way things are SUPPOSED to be" is denying everything Mary said about a world without monsters, and calling back to Eve's natural order.

-

Poor old Mick

Maybe he'll turn him into a vampire

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"What are you doing?" "Picking a side"

LOVE HIM

-

That was a badass montage of how Sam got a bullet in the gun

-

Bye bye Alpha Vamp, Dabb tidies up another loose end and sits back smiling to himself - not a plot hole so much as the itch of “see you next season” being for nothing

-

Serena nooo

All the dead people

-

Oh, wait, I'm having the same moment as Mick

-

Mary like "come on" to him, quite gently

aaand walk out and there's Ketch and Dean, 5 minutes late to the party.

Ketch lecturing Mick on his ivory tower and how people die...

Oh Ketch your attempt to get Dean didn't work.

-

Awwww Dean was worried about Mary and Sam's deducing it because Sam's all deduce-y and stuff. When he has to deal with things on his own, he really shines. You should do more episodes alone. I've really missed you, Sam :P I feel like I haven't seen you since 11x14

-

Are the Winchesters making up??

"It's not your job to make me lunch and kiss me goodnight" Help

-

Aww they all made up

-

Ooops and here's Ketch back being all awful and with the traitor hunter. Who's "gone rogue"

I suppose this compares to 12x06 AGAIN, where they let Bucky go because they don't kill their own, just ostracise them

but um

Still thinking about Samuel Campbell... is that ever going to come up? In this case the Winchesters seem to agree that killing this guy for selling them out to vampires is appropriate. Or, well, whatever Ketch does to him. Worse than death, maybe

-

Maybe Mary would understand despite the fact it was her father >.>

-

Had not considered that until after seeing this episode

-

Aw Sam no, I CRIED WITH YOU TODAY.

Was Sam talking crap with the Cops n Robbers speech or did he change his mind about the status quo? He picked his side in the moment Mick helped get the bullet to him? Or? Thinks the MoL are such idiots the only way to protect Mary is to go with her?

-

Dean looks kinda isolated at the end with Sam and Mary standing next to each other but he has had reason to DISLIKE Ketch after he roughed up the poor vamp girl, and he still indicates he doesn't like Mary's decision but he loves her anyway...

Kinda feel bad pointing out if he doesn't go for it (and one of them needs not to) that kinda does mean he and Cas are left alone on this side :P

Don't feel bad enough NOT to point it out and end on that note >.>