#hey im so unwell over them actually!!

[cmlmrbl]

phoebe and max | dipper and mabel

[samwisefamgee]

the 20 dollar pair of throwaways I got for my sister's wedding were perfect for the like 7 hours I got them for but are really not perfect for like anything else ever

[softfem-dom]

low iron days soft!loganxlowiron!reader

a/n : my low iron has come back to bite me in the ass so im making this post 😭

wc : 1K

LOW IRON COMFORT , FLUFF , SOFT! LOGAN , FATHERLY! LOGAN. origins! / dofp! logan oriented .

It was supposed to be a normal day. You know, the normal stuff, getting up, getting dressed, having breakfast, attending your day classes and then spending the evening doing whatever —probably going out of your way to annoy Logan a little aswell.

But, no. Of course the universe had to turn against you, and you woke up feeling as shitty as ever.

You groaned, rolling over in your bed and throwing an arm over your unexplicably tired eyes. Your head felt heavy, stuffy, and your body didn't feel right. You didn't really know why, but it felt as if you had ran two marathons and got ran over by a truck at the same time. Except you did know why, your fucking low iron.

You glanced to the side, trying to focus your blurry vission on the alarm clock. Narrowing your eyes, feeling a migraine starting to nag at the back of your head, while you strained your vission in a try of making out the numbers on it. 8:45. You were late.

In a sudden burst of self-consciousness about how embarassingly late you were for class, you sat up on the bed and quickly reached to grab the covers to pull them off you. Bad move. As soon as your body processed the movement your blurry eyes clouded with a variety of colorful spots dancing around the corners of your vission, head spinning.

After the I-just-woke-up fog cleared up, the headache was fully present by now. Drumming inside your head, making you whine softly at the uncomfortable pressure on your temples —your fingers flying to rub against them, trying to ease it up.

Your fucking anemia seemed to want to come and bite you in the ass.

Mainly, it was your fault, because you had 'forgotten' to take your pills for a while —but they tasted like fucking dogfood. Your took a deep breath, trying to fill your lungs with oxygen to try and cool down the headache, Logan was going to scold you for this you were sure.

After mentally preparing yourself you managed to get out of bed, one foot after the other, and lean onto the wall for additional support. It felt as if your body wasn't working, feeling heavy and slow and rusty. Was this how Logan felt when he said he was an old man?

You didn't have time to even walk, or try to at least, to your closet to get out of your pyjamas when you heard firm knocking on your door. You winced slightly, feeling as if the sound was echoing inside your head.

"bub" you heard a familiar gruff voice muffled from the wood of the door. "Scott sent me to find ya, said ya didn't come to his class"

His voice was grumbly, clearly annoyed that he had to walk all the way to the third floor of the huge building just to tell you to go to class.

You wanted to cry. Was it an immature response? Yes. Was it better to think about a solution to the problem instead of choosing the emotional option? Yes again. Did you want to chose the rational option instead of crying? Hell no.

So that was when a small sound ripled through your lips, choked and wet, your tired eyes getting moist and your body feeling like a heavy bag of rocks. And Logan's enchanced hearing catched it.

His hand was on the doorknob in a flash, fingers twisting around it and pulling the door open in less than a second. "hey, hey bub what's goin' on?" he grumbled as he strode over to you.

He was next to your side in a second, his instincts flaring up like crazy at the prospect of you crying which would be a reason for being in pain or discomfort. His big, warm, hands went to your shoulders, hazel eyes staring at you as he analyzed everything —how you were paler than usual and how sickly and unwell you looked. He rubbed his thumbs on your shoulders once or twice before his rough hands were going up to cup your cheeks.

They were wet, when had you started actually crying? You didn't really know.

"Logan.." you croaked out, voice breathy and almost sob-y. Your eyes with the strenght to barely look up at him from under your lashes.

"m'here bub, m'here" he quickly sushed you, his hands gently squishing your cheeks slightly —trying to ground you— before he caught onto something. He frowned, his nostrils flaring slightly as he sniffed the air, looking down at you. Your scent that was usually weak, now was almost non-existent.

He groaned softly, rolling his eyes softly because of course this was going to be about your iron problems. He saw the way your body felt heavy, your arms lifeless to your sides, before he was clicking his tongue at you when you tried to look down. "nothin' of that, c'mon, look'a me, yeah, there we go" he grumbled, his thumbs gently wiping away the feverish tears rolling down your cheeks. It was a split second of hesitance before he was leaning down and smacking a kiss against your forehead, his beard gently tickling your skin.

"this about the low iron, bub?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle whisper, his lips still against your forehead. Mouth that was known for saying the driest things now gently caressing your skin. It was his own way of checking your temperature, he noted you were a bit warmer than usual.

You nodded your head, a little "uh-huh" slipping past your lips in almost a hiccupy tone before his hands were leaving your face in favour of wrapping around you and lifting you up into his arms.

He was holding you with the ease of a mother holding a baby, one arm hooked under your legs and his big hand resting on the small of your back to keep you uptight against him. At the little sound you made, he huffed in affection before he was affectionately bumping his nose against your cheek —almost nosing it.

"you stayin' with me for the rest of the day, bub" he whispered, his voice low and rumbly as his breath hit the skin behind your ear. His arms safely wrapped around you before his lips moved to place another kiss on the skin behind your ear. Who would've guessed the Wolverine was so protective of his cub?

[queen-of-scissors]

What happens if creator has a lot of squishmellows and misses them?

Heres a challenge for you: The characters cannot and i mean cannot make another set of squishmellows the reason for this is because the squishmellows the reader has are gifts from there family.

Challenge accepted.

masterlist

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

İm huggable too!!

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

You let out a dreamy sigh, and they were at your side as soon as they heard you.

"Your highness? Are you alright?"

With a forced smile, you looked at them from where you sat, "No need to worry, I'm fine!"

"Realy..? But you don't look fine."

"İ just-"

"Do you feel unwell?!" Green-haired man in the crowd, Baizhu, split the group to get near you. "Please tell me the symptoms."

"No, i-"

"Are you bored?" The boy with blue braided hair, Venti, teleported beside you with a gust of wind "shall I sing for you?"

"Guys-"

"Perhaps you are experiencing the feeling of being burnt out" the god of mora gently spoke, "May I suggest some calming tea? Brewing them shouldn't take long, only 4 hours should be enough"

"Will you hear me out?"

The room goes silent, they were embarrassed to realize they acted before giving you a chance to explain. How childish it was of them.

Don't be mad at them pls they are just trying to help ;; they can't stand the thought of you feeling down!

You sighed once again.

"...i just missed my squishmellows"

"Pardon?"

"I missed my extra fluffy, stuffed animals"

Zhongli looked at you sweetly "is that all? Well then, you need but ask"

"Noooo they won't be the same as my babies ;;"

Everyone turned their head to face you, faster than how Ei turned back to her creation. You had a child?!?! When?! How?! Do you have a court in another world?!

"Ok, before you take everything I say literally again, let me tell all of you this;.

No, they are not my actual children. İ call the pillows this because I love them so much"

Ohhh, oh ok they did NOT understand

"Now that won't do~" Yae Miko cooed "Leaving Their Highness deprived of the warmth and fluffiness they need is absolutely unacceptable! Hmmmmm"

She looked at you, seemingly lost in thought, but you could see the mischievous look in her eyes. Which also made you realize the light purple glow coming from her back.

"Perhaps," she stepped forward, making her tail more visible for all to see, "you might find my fur more huggable than your pillows~ would you like to try?"

"THE AUDACİTY-" one of your acolytes screamed, though they seemed redder than you are.

"Excuse me??" Tighnari let out an offended gasp "You think you can replace the holy object that they hold near?"

"Well, could you? Please spare yourself the embarrassment and don't act like you would not like to be at the pillows place as well~"

"Ok- listen here- what kind of a fake hybrid doesn't like being petted?" He admitted, blushing.

Gorou shifted uncomfortably, he also wanted to at least tell you that he would love nothing more than being your personal cuddler, his pride doesn't let him be teased about it. Yae picked up on that, however,

"Hmm? What is it general? Do you have something to say?"

You see him tense up so you decided to take the situation over

"Thank you Miko, knowing that you got my back makes me feel better haha!"

She smiles "anytime your Grace, my offer still stands if you choose to take it whenever you May need it ~"

"Hey creator~"

Your head instinctively turns to one of your titles being sung.

Venti, who is now in his Archon form, decided to fluff his wings in your direction.

"My feathers need a bit of brushing, it is such a pain doing it by myself, would you help this frustrated Acolyte with your divine touch?~"

You hear a deep growl from behind you.

"Foolish Bard. Stop this nonsense this İNSTANT"

"....Said the dragon Archon in his dragon form waiting for pets." He mumbled

I don't know about you, but if I Heard that Zhongli is in his dragon form? İ would turn my head so fast that even xiao would be jealous of my speed-

But for the sake of keeping it all reader-friendly, and keeping in mind that not everyone is a simp, let's just say the reader decides to stop the chaos.

To stop the chaos, you have 3 choices

1- pick one of them

2-pick all of them

3- shut everyone up and wait for albedo to open a portal to get you your squishmellows back.

Warning: option 3 May cause them to get damaged in some way. But don't worry creator! Your acolytes are here for comfort :D

[demise-seems-dead]

fic snip

little segment from a fic im gunna post soon for ye old tumblr people because i am so un normal about torchy, actually.

(tw: intrusive thoughts sorta, hallucinations, vague description of illness ig?)

The counter is ticking.

Tango lets himself breath, twisting the torch he has held in his hand nervously between fliterry fingers as he walked himself away from skizz. A timer, nay, a heartbeat rang out under his eyelids, pulsing out. One.. two… three. 

With a thump, a book lands by his feet. He breathes, and bends over to pick up the shiney purple blue leather bound book. His fingers dust the cover, and nasuea begins to tumble in his stomach as he goes for it nervously. He picks it up, and with a flutter of his eyes,, pulls open the cover to stare at the page in the book.

Concerningly, his eyes are met with nothing. Tangos fingers of his right hand trace down to his belt, going to nab his comm out of his side pocket to text grian. A voice breaks his monolouge. “Hey, pal, don't worry about that!”

Tangos head hurts. In a sudden burst, a gun shot rings in the back of his head. He tips his head back, letting out a soft stifled groan and blinking away the white eplosions. He looks around for the unfamilair voice. His eyes sweep over, and he spots skizz with his nose stabbed down into his own task book. He then looks down, and sees the unlit torch in his hand is now ablaze, yet glowing from every surface, including the wood. Tango swivels his head around again, and back down to the torch.

“Yup, you got it. Hey pal, yeah, its me, the torch!”

“Am…i having a stroke?”

  The torch vibrates in tangos hand, and glows brighter. “No no my friend. No issues here. Im just here to help. Concider me your friend good ol’-”

“Torchy. Why do i remember that?”

“Because youve been a very good player, tango. So good at remembering your firends” Tango stares at the torch, then to his book. “Why.. is my book empty?”

“Oh, don't worry about that, pal. Let torchy handle it. Don't worry about what your task is. Concider me your task. Catch up with me, talk to me, tell me everything you need to…get off your chest tango. Im here for you now. Your task is to reunite with your good old friend torchy, and here we are!”

Tango lets out a sigh, feeling as though his skin is crawling with a million bugs. The weird nausea of anxiety that comes from every task has spread up his chest, and the gunfire in his head begins to throb. Instinctively he reaches out to the bed frame hes standing by the brace himself. His hands look really off-coloured. “I don't,... feel very well. I should go talk to skizz.. Or grian, tell them i don't feel well enough to compete.”

“Oh no no no, tango, relax! Think about it. Skizz is got to be so stressed out with his task and with you and the other players, and grian is runing everything. Why bother them with something so little? Just try and relax, and don't eat or sleep for a bit incase you are unwell, and leave it at that.”

Tangos shoulders relax. “Alright.. I shouldn't worry them. They already have enough on their plates as is. Its just.. Im just a little queasy. Nothing to… worry about.” Tango lets his eyes droop, twitch in his fingers gone. Distantly, he hears skizz say his name, and makes the decision to go back up to the top of island.

~~~

Torchy talks a lot. 

Tango isnt a stranger to people who talk a lot, heck, hes buddied up with skizz this season, he knows that there are some people who talk a lot. Torchy, however, is a different level of a lot. Always talking that torchy. 

Tangos day sits at a whisper, for the most part. He spends most of it doing what his inbisable task is, catching up with a friend. Catching up with torchy. It should feel easy, but something about talking to torchy has him on edge. Something about the way it quakes in his hand and into his head, and the way hes alwas talking about something or earily silent,

Torchy has been trying to convince him to pull away from skizz for a bit more the last half hour or so, but he's trying not to. He likes torchy, really he does, but something about him makes tango anxious.he doesnt want to be alone with torchy.

“Tango..” the sentient light ficture says in a sing songy tone. “Trying to run off again with skizz, are we?”

“What? No! Of course not! What would.. Ever make you think that?” A nervous laugh tenses on the cusp of tangos lisps as torchy vibrates in his hand, shaking violently, as if it was angry. The glow he gives off tricks slightly purple in the nights shushed air. “Oh, tango. I know whats going on inside your head. Don't worry. Im your buddy. We are friends, arent we?”

“Yes. were friends.” Tango said, and his voice demaneded the thought to be voiced. It wasn't a thought that could be intercepted or disputed, and it just slipped straight out without permission. 

“Than stay with me! Skizz doesnt want you to bother him.” 

“I guess he doesnt. He's got a lot of building to do, r-right?” “Right. So how about we go on a little walk, huh?”

“Okay.” Tango rises to his feet, shoes digging into the soft watterlogged grass around love island. His feet carry him to the water, and he dips down into it. His feet ground into the silt at the bottom of the lake, and his toes run cold with the icy flooding water. It swishes around, like big hands trying to reach out for him. His pant legs soak, getting heavy. His fingers twitch, and he lets them both stare out into the abyss. Tango raises torchy up and way from the water, sinking both of them deeper into the water. His chest squeases as the water laughs and singles, bubbling and brookoing into a big circle. The air bubbles as he sinks, as the water rises over his chest disolve. He lets his feet drift up into a swim. He goes forward, shifiting one hand repeatedly into the blur, moving forward. Cutting and gliding through the swirls of the vastness. 

For a moment, their world seems to fade as tango moves through the wateer. Its singing grows louder, reverberating around the earth, and pushing back the trees and the grassa and the world. The water grows darkerm perhaps more cold as well, as tango pushes and throtles against the lungs of the land, of the water. 

Dark yearning amber eyes stare up betwwen the folds of the lapping nulls hes sunk into, and yet it doesnt matter to them. It doesnt matter to them. Fianally, he pulls out and away. His body cascades, breaking off into different pieces as the wet damp clothes sog off him, and as the water drips off of hi- them. 

Tango keeps moving. Torchy smiles and he can feel it in the warm buzzing of his hand.

“Oh, good job keeping me dry, tango! Your a real pal!”

“Only doing my best.” an uncomfortable grin spreads over tangos face, veering each corner of his mouth upright without much effort on his behalf. Without any effort, actually. He didn't smile conciously. 

…huh.

They begin to walk. Tango feels heavy and stiff, and the crooks of his elbows and knees are starting to feel achey with the chafing motion of wet clothes on him when he moves. His fingers are so tightly rapped around torch(y), and yet so cold despite being right next to a flame. He doesn't think he could move them if he wanted to, but he wont let his mind dwell.

His mind cant dwell.

his mind can't thi-

His heart wont stop moving in his chest, moving around like a screen saver beating against his ribs. A big overtaking smile beams over his face. A song flows to his heart and his feet skip against the dull yellow singing licks of nature hidden in the grass. 

it feels so good to be hanging with his pal torchy!

does he even really need anybody else???

[suffarustuffaru]

hi so im currently coping with my finals by making more playlists to listen to. please take my offerings. yes. its more subaru playlists. the other two i made simply wasnt enough to hold the weight of my brainrot 👍

yes so actually ive spent like the past few years having like private pridebaru and greedbaru playlists to myself so i decided to finally refine them and add them to spotify yep <3 notes under cut.

yeah so in general i tried to have a balance of songs about subaru being Unwell and Not Having A Good Time and songs about subaru being A Horrible Person for the ultimate listening experience👍also if youre not a japanese speaker i once again recommend looking at the lyrics for the japanese songs because theyre very good lyrics ok.

so about greedbaru playlist!!! this is based on the greed if ln by the way yes so the playlist is roughly in order of the events going on there.

"inevitabilis" to "guns for hire": subaru accepts the contract with echidna. also yes i used "a sadness runs through him" again it is like. the quintessential ifbaru song for some of the ifs yes. looked in the wrong place for redemption and all that.

"circles" to "leech boy": greed if's arc 4 happens and everyone is Miserable now <3 "our word" is subaru learning to Gaslight and Gatekeep from echidna. "hole-dwelling" by kikuo marks um. that one scene in the greed if ln where subaru kills dream echidna and then has a mental breakdown over that. yes. "evil angel" is subaru capturing meili. you can probably read the "angel" in the song being either echidna, subaru, or elsa.

"are you satisfied?" and "literary nonsense": arc 4 is over yay!!! surely everything will be fine......

"bitter choco decoration" (by syudou) to "no body, no crime": nvm nothing is fine. this is the arc where clind tries to destroy subaru but subaru. Retaliates. so to speak. "sunset lover" is just referencing subaru's save scumming... "this kingdom is mine" is subaru figuring out the culprit killing him is clind.

"your obedient servant" and "someone gets hurt (reprise)": ottosuba divorce. otto leaves subaru.

"everything stays" to the end of the playlist: subaru establishes the official greed if emilia camp by manipulating felt into leaving + reinhard into joining the faction yay!!! "anger" and "drywall" is in reference to subaru punching a wall remembering otto. and its also referencing greed if subaru having "good" days and "bad" days.

this playlist is a loop if you compare the last two songs with the first two songs.

pride playlist!!! its shorter but still a banger. in my honest and nonbiased opinion. also genuinely i listened to a lot of these while writing pride if fanfic like two years ago so thats also why theyre here HAH.

"once upon a dream" to "open up your eyes": subaru has his whole 88 first arc loops of hell where he keeps trying to brute force killing elsa 👍also i thought itd be horribly funny to put a spin on my mainbaru playlist by putting in "never ever getting rid of me" and "magia" in there alsdjfljsdf

"oh ana" and "hellfire": subaru "meets" reinhard.

"stalker's tango" to "partners in crime": subaru does more pride if things 👍joins the witch cult, makes plans, teams with elsa, etc etc.

"a story told" and "hey there delilah": subaru manipulates ferris. :(( you could probably also see the "delilah" as reinhard or emilia too.

also i use "theyre only human" again - in the greed if playlist its to reference echidna and subaru talking with each other in the dream world / through the crystal. and also because subaru is very Detached from everyone around him. thats also why its in the pride if playlist!! and "a story told" is in both playlists because. well subarus a little mansplain manipulate manwhore.

"death ballet 2nd" to the end of the playlist: yeah subaru burns down the whole country and wins at all his goals. everyone gets fucked :<<

[anachronistic-falsehood]

hi whsikey you reblogged that art post from me and talked about how u know those guys now and cant wait to see their canon dynamic so im putting tidalwave in your inbox because im thikinging about them in the back of my mind constantly forever. dont worry im going to say this in the simplest non spoiler terms possible. worlds most divorced single fathers. hero/villain rival dynamic where they both hate each others guts for what the other stands for but also in an emergency they will reluctantly call each other for help because they know nobody else would udnerstand. hey remember that time william was going to interrogate wavelength in the holding cell by using a ghost-shaped image of tide but he saw through it IMMEDIATELY because "i've fought tide dozens of times and hes never spoken to me like that" yeah. yeah. yeah. yeah. unwell over them constantly like 24/7. head in hands muffled crying. in one of the rolleds at the very end of pd season 2 bizly explicitly turns to the camera and says "tidalwave will never get married so stop asking me about it" but thats okay they shouldnt be married ever actually. and never have been. they are however extremely divorced.

HONESTLY. the moment wavelength said “tide wouldn’t speak to me like that” i was like “oh these two have a HISTORY.” like i knew there was gonna be some kinda enemies/rivals relationship there. old man yaoi. divorced dads. i fuckin knew it. mac i’m so excited to see them interact for real i want to see the divorced dads dynamic in action more than anything <3

[drpeppertummy]

this is written like absolute dogshit but im not fixing it

[post-eating tummyache]

Sunny was always hyping up Wawa's mozzarella sticks, but Gray was beginning to regret finally eating some. They'd been soggy and tepid upon purchase, and at Laurie's suggestion, he'd revived them in Wendy's air fryer. The air fryer had brought them back to a state of crispy and melty, but they still weren't quite right. Still, he'd eaten all four. As the bellyache began to set in, Gray determined that the only reason Sunny was so wild about those sticks was because he only had to go as far as Wawa to get them.

"Mozzarella sticks weren't that great, huh?" Laurie sat down next to Gray, who was sitting on the couch, looking unwell. His hands rested atop his belly. He shook his head.

"Any time Sunny claims something is good, it's best to take all the other things he likes into account," said Wendy. The three of them had been spending the day at her house, getting ready for their next project. Fortunately, they'd taken care of the bulk of the work before their snack break. Gray let his head fall back against the couch. A sickly gurgle rose up from his stomach. Laurie placed a hand on his belly and winced. It felt bloated and tight under its usual softness.

"Sheesh, poor guy," she said, rubbing his belly. Gray typically had a big appetite, but the little bag of mozzarella sticks had proved to be too much. He didn't eat as much junk food as he used to when he was younger. The greasy wad of cheese and breading sat heavy in his stomach, leaving him feeling ill and bloated, although Laurie's belly rub was at least a little soothing. As the two of them sat there, the door suddenly flew open.

"Ladies," announced Sunny in his best heartthrob voice as he entered, two big grocery bags of supplies in his hands.

"Oh, brother," said Laurie, rolling her eyes. Sunny flashed her a toothy grin and tossed his bags onto the coffee table.

"Brought the crap. Hey Gray, you good?" Gray nodded.

"He's not feeling great," explained Wendy. "He got some of those mozzarella sticks you're always mad for, but his tastes must not be as refined as yours."

"Meaning he's not a garbage-eating raccoon like you are," said Laurie.

"My tastes are pretty refined," agreed Sunny. "Yeah, Wawa mozzarella sticks are kinda gross. Hey, you want me to run out and get you a ginger ale or something?"

"No, I'm okay," Gray said quietly.

"You sure? You look like you could use one."

"Oh, actually, I think I have some," said Wendy, disappearing into the kitchen before Gray could protest. She returned with a glass and handed it to him.

"Thanks," he said. Gray didn't really like people fussing over him when he wasn't feeling well--he hated drawing attention to himself--but he was thankful to have such caring friends, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy having his belly rubbed. Sunny sat down beside him and snuggled up against his side, resting his hand on Gray's stomach. Sunny was an opportunistic cuddler, especially with Gray, who was big and soft and warm. Gray had no complaints. He liked being close to his friends, and the hand on his queasy belly was comforting. Wendy, who was not cuddly at all, sifted through Sunny's bags while the trio melted into each other on the couch.

As Gray sipped on his ginger ale, the discomfort in his stomach finally began to ease up. He didn't exactly feel ready to run a marathon, but between the soda, the comforting attention of his friends, and the time he'd taken to rest, he felt restored enough to get back to work. Slowly, not wanting to jostle his belly too much, he set down the glass and leaned forward to help Wendy.

[oswednesday]

my gparents house on my dads side is one of the oldest in the city but also built where there was no places around it until much later while not really having "land claim" which is weird and then it burnt down but in that just where theres a lot of fire damage all over but not structural damage like all the plaster walls still intact just completely toasted burnt surface would my gparents bought it in the state and refurbished it because he was an architect like it was his trade and he designed and aided in building a lot of hospitals both in that city and in various places in illinois and nyc <-explaining in some ways why im like this, he was actually well regarded but never widely celebrated which im sure contributed to his strangely frail ego, its one of those things where you either get to be an a-list artitect or you are a neighborhood husband of several children with a stay at home wife in a catholic district larping poverty but you cant be both and he went with the latter making everyones lives miserable and while i have some positive memories it doesnt over shadow his bigotry or unwell behaviors anyway im sure hes dead now and no one has bothered to even inform me which is fine i guess its not like i loved them and they hurt me a bunch and broke my heart with their unrepentant foul behavior but whatever anyway the point of this post is

for a house that size there were a lot of strange nooks and spirit doors like doors leading to no where, narrow hall ways sealed off by walls and stuff like that, it was a big house still is but not like spirit door secret rooms big you know? when they were doing the construction they found a bunch of stuff in the walls, this is normal for a house that age but it was like a large amount like filled boxes like in total there were like at least 30 something doors interior and exterior with like 10 being exterior doors some with zero evidence of ever having a balcony or fire escape on the outside they turned most of those into windows and i had like three of the most like hey paranormal might be real or i need to go on ziprasidone it was also like catty corner cross the street from the catholic church they belonged to at the end of their lives hell maybe theyre still alive and pushing 100 all while smoking and drinking all life long, my greataunt who has Got to be dead also completely uninformed by that smoked all while on an oxygen tank she was an ass but i loved her in the way sometimes an ass at a distance is too cool, well im going to need all the help i can get generics wise so while wretchedly clinging to this earth i am grateful for that

[6okuto]

Hey nia <33 how's the most gorgeous person doing today?? I hope ur eyes are getting better :(( sending lots of love ur way ty for always making me and a lot of other ppl happy ure the most awesomest ilyyyy 💓💗💓💞💗💕💖💗💖💘💘💘💖💕💖💗

(p/s: ive been brainrotting sm abt touchstarved plsss its unhealthy 😭 even made 3 mcs/ocs for each of the backstory o am unwell 🤒🤒)

BSHBWUAH;+;+;!,+? who is this im going to Find U this is a NOT JUST A THREAT BUT A PROMISE! im doing ok i think. the sem is almost over & my eye's getting a little better. U r actually the awesomest. lkterally the most awesomestestest person ever... wow. ☹️ ILY NONNIE...u guys make my day every day i see an ask and kick my feet 🫶

also thats srsly so cool WHAATTT i want to know abt them...do u have a fave. WHO R THEY ROMANCINH. what r they like + how do they feel abt the cast i need this information immediately or ibwjl lexplode and die and no one wants that when ive made myself a fundamental part of ur lives.

[drabbles-mc]

running right along 🏃 into part 2

okay okay okay. it's a toxic trait of mind that i should probably??? definitely??? get under control but i haven't yet so it is what it is BUTTTT the way i read cal coming over to piggyback off danny's smoke and i am IMMEDIATELY picturing them kissing in my head. but this is not that fic and i will think about that later on my own time SKKSKS sorry to project my innedsanity onto you

or all his oddities Cal’s the only one of them that feels real and not like a character in a dream he can never fully remember. Besides Kath <- okay but you AREEEE making my case by having him stack them up beside each other like this KEKW

If shenanigans were an occupation, every one of them including Danny would be bonafide professionals. <- the way that this should've been the gotdamn tagline for the film sksksk. like well and truly before the movie dissolved into a tragedy it was PEAK comedy

Why not just have them all then? <- oh danny, my sweet summer child. you cannot simply expect these men to make sense on any consistent level

“Oh shi– uh, he– hiya, Kath,” Danny jumps right out his shoes, practically three feet in the air, his voice almost as high. <- THIS!!! THIS IS THAT GOOD SHIT!!!! GODDDDD i can picture it so clearly and i just love it so much. danny is just A Liddol Guy!!!!!!!!! kay i'm kissing you through the screen!!!

“Please. You know better ‘an anybody, dat boy don’t talk. And I love him to death but he’s a wahoo, same’s any of ‘em. But hey, who says you can’t love a wahoo.” <- it's actually kind of criminal how well you have her voice down

See, it’d be a problem if it was a problem. But it’s not. Not at all. <- DENIALLLLLLLLL my guy. he cannot simply just avoid eye contact with the gods and expect this to go away

Danny says, smiling so much he’s struggling to line his eye back up with the viewfinder. <- the world's most soothing mental image. this will give me enough serotonin to make it through the rest of this wretched month at least and for that i thank you sksk

Much as it’s been a treat chauffeurin you around, if we do it much longer people’ll start to think we’re going steady. Now, I’m all for broadening your horizons but I’d hate to be the one to compromise your journalistic integrity, y’know, being with a respectable lady like myself. <- KAYYYYY YOU CANT KEEP DOING THIS TO MEEEEEEEEE (and by that i mean please keep doing this to me for all of eternity) IM YELLING OUT INTO THE VOIDDDD I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCHHH

the intimacy and the romance of this whole picture-taking sequence between him and kathy. i am simply. unwell about them. they're so sweet and cute and i am actually just gnawing my fist clean off my hand

Y’know, with the microphone an’ tape deck ya cart around practically half yer size. <- kathy said Danny Lyon is a Short King and she's so right for that sksksk

DANIEL LOUIS LYON. i'm fucking CACKLINGGGGG. kathy cross is the truest treasure of them all

omg. kay. this back and forth between Benny and Danny. i'm salivating. i'm unhinging my still-locked-and-busted jaw and consuming it whole.

i'm fucking just. thrashing about on my sofa. how'm i meant to go on, kay???? how am i meant to return to my life under these conditions????????????????????

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Part 2

⁂

Pairing: Danny Lyon x Kathy Cross

Word count: ≈ 4K

TWs: Allusions to infidelity, love triangles, flirting, angst. (ꔘ) indicates this comes directly from dialogue in the movie.

But whatever it is, it feels important. Like you’d regret it slipping through your fingers. So important, you don’t wanna blink. Cause when you open your eyes again it’ll be gone. Picking up right after part one (read -> here to catch up), at the bar the same night, Danny loses focus on the meeting when he gets a surprise visit from Kathy.

⁂ The ash on his joint’s nearly a half inch long when Cal’s hand waves in front of Danny’s face, knocking it off to scatter onto the barroom floor.

“Earth to Danny, come in Danny.”

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Not only has Danny barely taken a puff of his joint but Frankie was long gone, replaced in front of him now by Cal who’s made his way over from the pool tables to ask for a drag, a request to which Danny has been apparently nonverbal. Yup, too lost in the soup upstairs and now he’s second-guessing this joint he hasn’t even really smoked. Maybe he is more toasted than he thought.

“Need me to take that bud off your hands, bud?” An impeccably-timed Cal speaks to these fears. “Looks like you might’ve had one too many.”

Handing the joint over to Cal gladly, Danny cracks a smile, a real one, “Sure thing, gramps,” because for all his oddities Cal’s the only one of them that feels real and not like a character in a dream he can never fully remember. Besides Kath. “Say, remind me again, what time’s curfew? Don’t wanna be late for supper after all.”

“Well, now,” Cal tips a hat that’s not there, affecting the voice of an old southern grandpaw, “I’d certainly say by sundown, sonny.”

“The fuck’re you two doofs on about?” Brucie, characteristically cranky, looks up from his newspaper, face all pinched like he’s not here for their shenanigans. Which is funny considering the general company he keeps. If shenanigans were an occupation, every one of them including Danny would be bonafide professionals.

Cal leans over to pat him on the shoulder, “Now, now, Brucie, this is a family matter,” before taking his seat at one of the tables.

“Just my fuckin luck.” Brucie rolls his eyes like it’s just Cal being Cal, which it is, “Coupla comedians over here,” and tosses his newspaper on the bar before swiveling his stool around to address the group assembled at the tables. “Alright, alright, ladies. Pipe down, meetin’ll start in about five minutes.”

Danny snags a few crowd photos while everyone’s distracted. These usually turn out to be his favorite, catching people when they think no one’s looking because usually no one is. Scanning the room for another shot, Danny can’t help but shake his head at all the non club-affiliated patrons packed at the front of the bar by the pool tables because he’s yet to figure out why some of the meetings are conducted during business hours. This is made even more baffling given some of their other meetings were held off-hours when the Stoplight was closed and there was less noise. So it seemed no one was opposed to the idea. Why not just have them all then?

Danny grabs his pencil from where it perpetually sits behind his ear and a little notepad from his vest pocket, jotting down to ask Brucie or Kathy, the two most likely to give him a reliable answer, about it later.

“S’at my name I see you writin there? What could you be writin about silly ‘ole me, I wonder?”

“Oh shi– uh, he– hiya, Kath,” Danny jumps right out his shoes, practically three feet in the air, his voice almost as high. “I, uh, didn’t think you’d be comin tonight.”

“Yeah, well my car’s busted, so’s I had to get Benny to pick me up from work and he said he could only do it if we stopped here first ‘fore goin home.”

Danny offers his sincerest condolences with a nod and shrug.

“Boy, I am glad yer here though, I’m tellin ya,” she says, grabbing a piece of gum from her purse and popping it in her mouth. “Nice to have someone’a talk to ‘sides just dese wahoos.”

“Oh yeah? Well, uh,” searching the congregation through the cigarette smoke that’s filling the fiberglass shields around the fluorescents so it looks like everyone’s moving in a tank of dusty water, Danny spots a sleek crop of honey blonde hair seated up front and off to the side, “what about Benny?”

She waves her hand. “Please. You know better ‘an anybody, dat boy don’t talk. And I love him to death but he’s a wahoo, same’s any of ‘em. But hey, who says you can’t love a wahoo.”

“Not me,” Danny agrees, smirking privately to himself, as was the custom these days any time he talked to Kathy about well, pretty much anything. Given so many opportunities to practice, he’s become well-versed in trying not to look like he’s enjoying himself as much as he is. See, it’d be a problem if it was a problem. But it’s not. Not at all.

Bringing his camera up to snap a picture of the group gathered around Johnny, he can’t help but chuckle at how it looks like a scattered Sunday night mass if mass was held in the smokestack of a hay bale on fire. A hay bale with billiard tables and a jukebox.

Kathy leans over wanting in on the joke, “What’s so funny over dere?”

“Ah, it’s noth– it’s ju– well, it’s hard to explain.”

“Sheesh.” She shoots him a look that would’ve been withering were it not for the smile on her lips and in her eyes. “You been hangin ‘round Benny too much. I swear one’a these days, you’ll go quiet on me yet.”

“C’mon, you know I’d never,” Danny says, smiling so much he’s struggling to line his eye back up with the viewfinder.

“Oh, does’at mean you’re like me, then, huh? Not enough, whats’a word–” She snaps her fingers in an attempt to summon it, which she does. “Discipline. Not enough discipline to be dat stoic.”

“It’s not that so much as,” he flashes a cheeky grin, “I’m just not cut out for that kinda commitment.”

“Y’know,” Kathy crosses her arms, shakes her head, and just to have something to do, starts kicking the leg of the unoccupied barstool in front of her. “I used to think you Brooklyn boys were aaall trouble. Just– y’know, on account of all’sa movies I seen, right. Buncha meatheads, mobsters, criminals n’ such. But you Danny Lyon, you’re just a doll, aren’t ya?”

“Am I?” The blood’s warming his cheeks already and he falls back on some well-worn sarcasm to save face. “Well, don’t go blowin my cover or these guys’ll boot me out on the street and I’ll have nothing to show for the last six months.”

Smiling, she drags her thumb and her forefinger across her lips, locks and throws away the key.

Danny turns his attention back to the meeting that’s started, trying to make like he’s been industriously picking out shots and listening. Not that it mattered if he wasn’t. His club membership was little more than ceremonial, a kid’s costume. Sure, he had colors now and his own bike, a junker Cal chopped together because he got sick of Danny piggy backing on his all the time. He joked about it when he gifted it to Danny. Much as it’s been a treat chauffeurin you around, if we do it much longer people’ll start to think we’re going steady. Now, I’m all for broadening your horizons but I’d hate to be the one to compromise your journalistic integrity, y’know, being with a respectable lady like myself.

But neither of those things made him integral to the day-to-day goings on of the club. Although tonight they’re talking about whether to approve the formation of a St. Louis chapter, so it’s more than the usual shop talk, even if the answer is a likely yes since Johnny’d already given the go-ahead to Milwaukee last year. Kathy had told him a guy named Fat Jack, or Big Jack, or Big Fat Jack(ꔘ) had to battle it out with Johnny for that one. Whether that’d be the price of admission for St. Louis remained to be seen.

“Say, I gotta question.” Kathy makes a move to claim Danny’s undivided attention again, the subject of an apparent tug-of-war between herself and the club. “I been wonderin, how d’you know when to take the picture?”

She’s yet to win that war on the Benny front but she’s well ahead on this one, what with Danny all-too-happily taking the bait. “Hm? What d’you mean?”

“Y’know like how d’ya know what’s gonna make a good photo? And do they all come out lookin how they look when you’re peekin,” Kathy points her index finger, retracting and extending it a few times at the viewfinder, “through that thing, er what?”

The camera in his hands comes down slow with the steadiness of an elevator dropping from floor to floor and he fidgets with the camera strap like he’s uncomfortable with the question. He might be. There’s something intimate about it. What’s more though is he doesn’t have a great answer. There’s no easy way to summarize what he’s devoted the last seven-some-odd years perfecting. The even more embarrassing part is that he’s never really given it a lot of thought. Not conscious thought, at least. He just sorta knows. But that seems like a cop out somehow and he doesn’t want to give her that kind of answer. Because nothing’s worse than questions met with answers that don’t really answer anything at all.

“Heck, I didn’t expect that to be such a stumper.”

“Oh–?” Danny snaps to, summoning a gentle smile to reassure her the dead air response isn’t because he’s bent out of shape about it. “Oh, no. I don’t– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– it’s just, to tell you the truth, it’s not something I think about.”

“Well now,” she elbows him lightly, “I find that hard to believe.”

“I guess– well, do you mean in a technical sense, as in how do I frame a shot? Or how do I find something I wanna take a picture of in the first place?”

“Mmm, the second one,” Kathy chuckles. “I think.”

Thumbing the advance lever, Danny’s gaze is now stuck on all the club members seated in front of them, “Hmm, well–” trying to find a way to break down what’s been, for all these years, as good as muscle memory. “I guess it’s a gut feeling more than anything. Like if you’ve ever been in the middle of somethin– the thick of a scene, and then stopped a second to look around, right?”

Eyes narrowed like she’s thinking intently on what he’s saying, Kathy bobs her head up and down.

“And something about it– doesn’t even have to be anything grand, y’know. Might just be, you like the lighting. Or the gestures people are makin, having a conversation. Or the look on someone’s face when they’re concentratin on something. But whatever it is, it feels important. Like you’d regret it slipping through your fingers. So important, you don’t wanna blink. Cause when you open your eyes again it’ll be gone. Not gone gone, y’know, just arranged a little different than it was, right. Cause the moment’s different. And you wish you could sustain it somehow, bottle it like a ship so you can see it any time you want. What it feels, looks like, sounds like. I guess– well yeah, anyway.” Danny’s voice drifts off with the smoke and the bar chatter and the music from the jukebox. “When I get to feelin like that, that’s how I know.”

“Wow.” The word tumbles out slow and for a second, it rings out like she’s the only person speaking in the whole bar before getting swallowed back up in the cacophony. “Seems like a lot for somethin you claim ya never thought about.”

Danny’s mouth twists off to the side in a self-effacing smirk and he hangs his head, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well alright then, Mr. Poet, so what’s so special ‘bout all’a this,” Kathy sidles up closer to him, gesturing in front of them, hand limp at the end of her wrist like she can’t be bothered. “What could be so important here?”

Head swiveling from Kathy, to the meeting, then back to Kathy, Danny gets an idea. He ducks, lifting the camera strap over his neck and hands it to her. She meets this with a blank look like he’s just presented her a dead fish.

“C’mon, set your bag down,” Danny laughs. “I’ll show ya.”

There’s a reserved smile as she uncrosses her arms, slides her purse off her shoulder, flopping it on the table next to them, and holds her hands out to accept the camera with some hesitation. “How’m I gonna know if I’m holdin it right? I don’t wanna drop it. Then you’ll really have a reason to not talk to me.”

“Well, you’re in luck cause,” Danny holds the strap open like he’s awarding her an Olympic medal, “that’s what this is for.”

She grabs the camera to keep it from swinging too much as he guides the strap over her head and lays it gently around her neck. “Gosh, this is heavier’n it looks.” Once it’s on, she starts pulling her hair out from underneath it.

Danny shrugs, “Guess I’m used to it,” helping to smooth the collar of her denim jacket that’s gotten flipped up, thanks to the weight of the camera. Then he turns back to the group, waving her over to stand in front of him. “Alright, so what feels important about this. Or I dunno, what I like, I guess, is–”

Kathy keeps glancing back at him over her shoulder as she steps in front, hanging on every word like she might miss something crucial.

“–is the lighting here.” From behind her, Danny gestures at the camera. “Go ahead, take a look. See how smoky this part of the bar is, how it’s accumulating under the hoods of the fixtures, reflectin the light? But then all the space in between is real dark, right. S’cool, I was thinkin it looked like a buncha little lightning storms over everyone’s heads.”

“Oh yeah,” he can hear the smile in her voice, “lookit that. Could be like lil’ lighthouses, them.”

“Go ahead, take a couple.”

“What, me?” She’s incredulous and he could kick and drag himself across the pavement on the street right outside for thinking it’s as adorable as it is. “Didn’t you just take some?”

“Sure, but people have shifted around in their chairs, the smoke’s hangin a little differently now. Could be your shot’s better than mine. Go for it.”

“Huh, alright. So what do I do. Press this here, den?” Her finger taps the shutter button.

“Yup, press that and then–“ he reaches over her shoulder to place her thumb on the advance lever, “pull this. Yeah, press, then pull. Just like that.”

Stifling a giggle of pure joy so as not to disrupt the meeting, she nabs a few photos, “Say, this is a gas. I see why you wanna do this all’a time,” before breaking away to note with some skepticism, “the chattin, though. Y’know, with the microphone an’ tape deck ya cart around practically half yer size. That, not so much.”

“Really?” Danny says, sticking his hands in the pockets of his vest because without a camera, he doesn’t really know what to do with them. “See, I would’ve thought that’d be your favorite part.”

“Oh? Why’s dat?”

“Cause you sure like talkin.”

Conceding with a wry smile to cushion the blow of the accompanying eyeroll, she turns back to snap a couple more.

At the front of the assembly Benny tips his chair to lean on the back legs, his head hanging over the top rail, cigarette dangling from his mouth, looking bored yet untroubled in his boredom, when he spots Kathy with the camera.

“Please tell me you’re gonna get–”

A click sound answers Danny’s question before he can finish asking as Kathy pulls the lever to take another one. “Aaaaalready on it, Mr. Lyon. Dontcha worry.”

There’s no possible way he can hear them over the noise, but Benny, in a stroke of luck or genius or divine intervention, winks at Kath, baiting her to take another one because he knows it’ll make for a better shot. This time Danny doesn’t even have to open his mouth because Kathy’s finger beats him to the punch. Click.

“See. Told ya, yours could turn out better than mine.”

Kathy turns back around, face lit with a smile so bright, one he’s not sure he’s seen since in months, not since their first interview at the laundromat. “Boy, you weren’t kiddin none, I’ll tell ya,” she says, pulling the strap over her head to return the camera tentatively like she might be sad to part with it. “Hey, maybe one’a these days I’ll have yer job, huh?”

“Look at you,” Danny accepts the camera, as she passes it back with one hand and smoothes her hair with the other, “masterminding my retirement. If I were any wiser, I might think you were tryin to get rid of me. And after all that back-n-forth about me not talkin to ya.”

Her eyes get real wide. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister.” Even as she’s laughing while she says it, she’s also gripping Danny’s arm, holding him in place before he might get the chance to dissolve before her, float right up to the ceiling fans, and diffuse into the air completely. “I take it back, ya hear me, I take it back!”

But he’s got her on the hook now, “You sure?” so he keeps going, “I mean, I know where the door is, I can always just–” skipping his index and middle fingers to the front of the bar, a sneak preview of his supposed exit.

“So help me,” hand on her hip, Kathy wags her finger at him, eyebrows halfway up her forehead, “Dann– Daniel Llll-Louis Lyon, if you go anywhere–”

“Louis??” Danny starts cracking up so hard, he nearly drops the camera. “Who’s Louis?? That’s not even my middle name!”

She smiles, all cat that caught the canary. “Oh, I know. But it sounds scarier, don’t it? Y’know put the fear’a God in ya. An’ all that.”

Still laughing, “Sure,” Danny mimes the sign of the cross, shoulders shaking on every beat of Father, Son, Holy Ghost. “Put the fear of I-don’t-know-what, anyway.”

The sound of chair legs screeching across the checkered tile floor marks the end of the meeting and Danny hasn’t been paying a lick of attention. He'll have to ask Cal about the club’s verdict on St. Louis later, or else eavesdrop on Brucie and Johnny in one of their many little barside confabs of mumbles and grumbles. When Benny starts making his way back to them slowly, taking his time as he stops to shake a couple guys’ hands, loans a cigarette to another who’d run out, Danny starts to sweat, suddenly all too aware that Kathy’s hand has slid down his forearm and is holding his wrist now.

“Heya, Kath?”

“Huh?” she says, absently, smiling at Benny from across the room.

“You uh– you out to take hostages, here? Or—?”

“What’s ‘at, now?”

Danny gestures at his wrist with an index finger.

“Oh lord, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and drops her hand, taking a step back toward the table where she’d set down her purse. “Silly me.”

His eyes dart over to Benny to see if he’d noticed the exchange but he’s too busy dodging a conversational trap with Cockroach, gearing up, no doubt, to regale him with some loony story. Probably waxing poetic about bugs. The tension in Danny’s shoulders melts away as he sighs pure relief. By the time Benny makes it over to them, Kathy’s got her purse back on her shoulder and her hands in her pockets like she and Danny are less than strangers, just making small talk.

A tender kiss lands on her cheek as Benny slings an arm over her shoulder. “So? The kid’s teachin’ camera classes now?”

It should bother Danny, Benny calling him ‘kid’ given the two of them are pretty close in age. But for some reason, coming from Benny he doesn’t mind. “Wasn’t much teachin to speak of. You won’t believe the coupla ace photos she took.”

Benny’s brows scrunch together like he’s already forgotten his own role in staging the perfect shot.

“Yeah, she’s regular Cam-Jam over here. Caught two of you when you were leaning back in the chair. I’d put money on ‘em bein the best of this roll.”

“Beg yer parden? Cam-Jam? Don’t go pokin fun at me just cause yer envious’a my natural talent.”

Danny laughs. “Nonono, it’s a compliment. Means you’re jammy with the camera. I used to get called it back in college. It’s kinda like, uh— what d’ya call— beginner’s luck. Only your luck don’t run out.”

“Hear that, babe.” Benny kisses Kathy on the nose and she giggles, playfully swatting him away, an exchange so tender and sweet it actually smarts. “Think he’s sayin you got ‘the eye.’”

“Yeah.” Danny lights up with recognition. “Exactly right.”

“Ah, so yer sayin I gotta future in this business of yers. Well okay, whats’a next lesson, Mr. Poet-Professor-Danny?”

“Hmm. I’ll have to go over the curriculum and get back to ya on that.”

Fishing around for a cigarette in his jacket pocket, Benny’s got that far away look in his eye like they’ve already lost him. Which makes it all the more surprising when he opts to prolong the conversation by asking Danny, “So, St. Louis?”

“Uh, yeah.” Having found the cigarette but looking lost for his lighter, Danny flicks his own out to light Benny’s smoke, remarking cautiously, “So Johnny’s gonna do like they did with Milwaukee.”

It’s statement enough to sound like an answer to the question but question enough that Benny still has to confirm. Danny wouldn’t have to ask Cal what happened in the meeting after all.

“Mm-hm. Probly go the same way but–” Benny looks over, blowing a funnel of smoke in the direction of Johnny. “They got heart to show first. So, you in?”

“Goin down this weekend?”

Benny nods.

“Mm, guess it depends.”

“What,” arm still over her shoulder, Benny uses it to give Kathy a little jostle, “need Ms. Cam-Jam to help with your book report?”

“Nah, it’s more, I was actually wonderin—”

Brows scrunched again, the closest Benny ever comes to looking confused is just Marlon Brando.

“—how likely you are to put your fist through another car window,” Danny says, grinning.

Rolling her eyes, Kathy pops the gum in her mouth with manifest disapproval.

“Mm,” Benny appraises the odds, ignoring all five-feet, four-inches of reproach brewing right next to him, “likely as any other day.”

“In that case, ‘course I’m in.”

“Oh not you too, Danny.” Kathy smacks him in the shoulder before crossing her arms. “You know he don’t need any more encouragement, getting inna trouble. I thought you were s’posed t’be the grown up in the room.”

Benny’s quick to Danny’s defense. “S’okay, hun. I’ll have him back in time for camera class.”

So Danny tacks on, “Yeah, and I’ll have him back in one piece for– I dunno, detention.”

Looking at both of them like she could bonk their heads together right there, Kathy just sighs. “I’ll say, if this isn’t the most cracked school I ever heard of, lemme tell ya.”

“Hey,” hit with some kind of revelation, Benny snaps to, almost animated - or animated as Benny gets, “how long’s it take to make the pictures… y’know, pictures?”

“Not long. I’ll probably develop these when I get home tonight, maybe tomorrow mornin. Why?”

“Next time you stop by the house, bring the ones our girl here took.”

“If they turn out to be any good,” Kathy mumbles, blushing.

“I don’t need to develop ‘em to know they’re good. I mean, there’s always a chance the film got overexposed or I s’pose I could fuck up developin them. But, barring major snafus, those ones’ll be printworthy.”

“Yeah? I hope so. Aright, c’mon Benny, take me home. My feet’re achin somethin awful n’ I been lookin forward all day to dat pint of mint chocolate chip we got inna freezer.”

Eyes cast off in the direction of the door, Benny plants a kiss of compliance on her forehead. And with that, the two take their leave, delayed only by Kathy’s turning back every so often to toss a few fretful glances Danny’s way. It’s strange, the look she’s got on her face as she disappears out the front doors of the Stoplight.

The more he’s thinking about it, the more he feels the rope tangled around his heart gets pulled taut by the eighty-pound anchor in his stomach. A feeling not unlike being crushed by a boa constrictor.

Yeah. Miss you too, Kath.

It’d be a problem if it was a problem. But it’s not. Not at all.

═

taglist: @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @ashlingiswriting, @tofuwildcard, @cositapreciosa, @axreliono, @bellinitini, @complete-nonsequitur, @when-did-this-become-difficult, @ladygoatee (tagged everyone I previewed this to in wc but no pressure to read bc I know not everyone is in this fandom)

[shameboree]

hey kels i was scrolling through my dash and then i caught a glimpse of your new fallon drawing and i want you to know that i went absolutely buckwild and then i scrolled further to see the whole drawing and i'm pretty sure i squealed. kels ever since ive started following you and your art and fallon have slowly nestled yourself inside my brain its amazing how excited i get whenever u upload a new drawing. also ive noticed that i'm slowly but surely starting to sound more and more unhinged and wild like you. how the fuck do you have so much influence on me. 

ALSO i love the new fallon drawing!! you are so right blue gold and white are just her colours they fit her v well!! and i love how much texture you used throughout the whole drawing and her shoes are AWESOME!! also love the whole winter fairy-ish vibe <3

ALSO i was wondering if you could like sort of,, idk explain your drawing process on this drawing? like if you did the colouring first or the lineart and stuff bc i just love how it turned out and id love to try something similar!!

AW!!! i am so hype for my awful girl to be Enjoyed so much!! she is my favorite dressup doll i love to play barbies with her most of all heheh. also i am THRILLED that my Unhinged and Unwell nature have rubbed off on u. i know i am a Strong personality and it makes me V POLARIZING (i am either LOVED or LOATHED i havent met many ppl who are just like meh abt me. i am an Experience) and its always a DELIGHT when someone finds my feral animal traits endearing or positive and kind of picks up on them. i think because life is short that we should all be as bananas as we please at any point in time. PURE ID HERE BABY

AND TY TY!! my girl has a strong aesthetic and this piece kind of went a liiiiittle against some of that (its a lot of hard angles vs i normally give her a lot of ovals and rounded edges) but for the setting its appropriate bc im trying to give her a bit more of a """"harsh"""" or """"severe"""" vibe (like as harsh and severe as she can possibly look which isnt very). i LOVE to use texture brushes they are such an easy way to get out of drawing details myself because i am SO lazy!!

okay i “”answered”” this i GUESS technically because i typed words in response but its a whole lot of jack shit so like. here ya go. SORRY PAL. 

here are some more shoes as u can see i basically draw her in the same ones always except when i draw her in a plugsuit

OKAY THE DRAW IN QUESTION i kind of cheated on bc i literally just traced over one of my older draws i did for a very obscure au i made of who made me a princess (i am always doing such ridiculously niche shit i love to sit in my little sandbox and have no one else understand my barbie rps) BUT the process is the same as basically every draw i do like this. it is very simple so dont worry (or do, maybe)

i use 1-3 layers at a time and then immediately merge when i feel like im done and LIVE W MY MISTAKES if not!! anyway prepare to be massively underwhelmed heh

this is so funny i cant believe i literally traced my own drawing im a fuckin FRAUD im the laziest bitch i know. anyway. my sketches are way messier than this but it always starts out either scratch ass lines or color blocking w this bright ass magenta bc thats what feels right!!!!!!

HERES THE LAYERS I USED LOL i do all textures n shit as a clipping mask so actually i used 4 layers for this bc id set down one texture or pattern that was gonna overlap on a diff layer so i wouldnt have to work harder to erase and then BLINDLY MERGED to make things more difficult if actually i fucked up before that!!! work smarter not harder except when it is absolutely braindead to do otherwise is my motto

IF IM DOIN SMTH NICER like this then i usually make sure all my lines connect (this is also why i do a lot of angles and simple clear shapes when i draw) so i can set that layer as reference and USE THE FUCKING FILL TOOL BAYBEEEEE!!!!! this also makes it easier to fuck around with COLOR imho bc you can just rapidly swatch with zero efforts. i Love to take shortcuts. i Love to be lazy. i HIGHLY rec this, if i have colored smth that stays in the lines then its bc i connected the lineart and used the bucket fill underneath. if my lines dont connect sometimes ill make a temp line and erase after i filled. im dedicated. ALSO u can see here that my patterns layer is all overlapping and fucked up bc i didnt check and erase fully but i use p limited palettes in general so... IT DIDNT MATTER THIS TIME!!!!!!!!. 

anyway after all that i lock the lineart layer if i havent already and color some of the lines for some PIZAZZ. easy way to immediately fake effort i do love to do that

HERES AN ACTUALLY MESSY SKETCH:

 i do all of my fucking draws on the same canvas bc im a horrible little beast, so the only reason i didnt erase the sketch and use it for the colors layer was bc there were others on that layer already and i didnt wanna scoot them so i could cap the finished draw. i did NOT connect my lines for this one i colored like a toddler. who gives a shit we all die in the end anyway!!! 

YOU DIDNT ASK FOR THIS BUT LINELESS MY LOVE... i just color blocked for this one alas i do not have process caps, i will do that next time i draw i guess if anyone wants that!!? i typically only use a single layer for lineless- block out the shape, alpha lock, then color and carve from there. EASY PEASY!! ive shown it before but i spent all my formative draw years on v limited feature programs (mspaint, oekaki, TEGAKI MOST OF ALL) so i dont explore tools much and do what seems easiest and most intuitive to me... im sorry i dont have any sick tricks or real process i am but a feral little clown drawing in the DIRT. also here is the tegaki overlay i use whenever i am Blocked or fatigued w procreate layout. it makes me feel NOSTALGIC and INSPIRED so i do this instead of like, actually getting on tegs2

this ended up long as fuck and FOR WHAT?? its just 10 images and several paragraphs of “sorry im the laziest fucker ALIVE”

[9tzuyu]

run into me sunday pt. ii

pt. i

notes: i am yet again projecting my own issues in fics lmao. this isn’t my favorite work, but i wanted to make a second part. this is the result. all mistakes are mine as im too lazy to proofread :P.

warnings: heavy talk of having an eating disorder.

requests are open!

the first few of weeks at natasha's house were fine. you tried really hard not to think about all the changes happening. like being monitored 24/7, or having to abide by natasha's rules all the time, or knowing that you were growing to be healthy.

it was okay, at first.

you hardly put up a fight when it came down to her rules. even meal time seemed to go without a hitch.

but as many people have said before, all good things cone to an end.

the second you woke up today, you could already tell it wasn't going to be fun. everything you'd pushed aside came crawling back, and you could feel every insecurity of yours heighten a thousand times worse than before.

nat's arms rest gently around your waist, and while it normally felt reassuring, you couldn't help but notice the extra weight you'd put on.

you still felt overly full from last night. if natasha woke up right now, you were positive she could feel how expanded your stomach was.

(god, you did not want her to feel how bloated you still were.)

now you knew there was nothing wrong with having a stomach, especially one that wasn't flat or as unwell as yours had become. but it was your body, and your body felt wrong.

feeling natasha's breath on the back of your neck, you gingerly began removing her arm from your body. however, your plan quickly failed when natasha pulled you in closer, her grip tightening around you.

you bit your lip to suppress your cries. you needed out and you needed out right now.

things quickly became unbearable. the longer you felt trapped, the more your body began to tremble. and though you despised it, you turned around to face natasha, your head buried in the crook of her neck.

the thoughts were loud. much louder than they had been the past few weeks.

you tried to keep your cries to a low level, but that didn't seem to work. natasha awoke within the very same minute. her first instinct was to check on you, but seeing as tears were streaming down your face she knew what the problem was.

nat pulled you closer to her, letting her right hand rub the backside of your body in an attempt to calm you down.

"hey now, it's okay, it's alright. you're okay, you're safe, you're here. i'm here." you continued to sob, letting every detail of your own self hatred slip from your mouth.

natasha wasn't surprised at the outburst. she knew you would have days like this, more days would soon follow. that was reality. she didn't expect your recovery to be perfect, if it was then she would know you weren't really getting better – simply putting on weight to please her.

she couldn't take away your pain (although she wished she could), but she could be there, offer you her love and support, coax you through meals when you needed her to.

when you'd finally calmed down you turned away from her, suddenly embarrassed at how you acted. she could feel you tense back up again, a failed attempt at blocking her out.

it was nat, who were you to think she couldn't read you like an open book?

nonetheless, she kissed the back of your head and moved out from under the covers. "i'm going to make breakfast, i'll be back."

you sighed. breakfast was not an option.

but 15 minutes later natasha returned with a plate of eggs, toast and a cup of fruit on the side. she even made it all pretty and nice for you.

“up, y/n. i know you don't want to, but you have to eat.”

"no," you mumbled, bringing the blanket over your head. she tugged them away instantly, "yes."

"it's too early."

"you didn't say that yesterday-"

"well i'm saying it today, natasha. now fuck off."

natasha knew better than to take your words to heart. if anything, she found it rather entertaining to see just how far you'd go to try and push her buttons.

an idea came to mind, a negotiation, really.

"tell you what, no breakfast, but you have to eat lunch and three snacks between dinner."

you thought about it for a second before peeking from underneath the covers, "deal." natasha patted your side, "i'm only doing this because you've been doing so well these past few weeks. don't count on this deal happening again." she spoke thoroughly, the plate of food now on its way into the kitchen trash-bin.

while you laid in bed natasha texted wanda. the redhead thought it would be beneficial for the younger woman to pay a visit. she knew how close the two of you were and decided to invite her over. it wasn't much, but the idea of wanda coming over and (possibly) helping you in any shape or form was very reassuring to natasha.

wanda texted back almost instantly, informing her that she was just short of an hour out, having to stop for gas on the way. natasha thumbs up'd her message and began planning out the day.

before either of you knew it, it was 12 noon. lunch had approached sooner than expected. wanda and natasha easily got caught up in a conversation. the only thing keeping time was nat's alarm that set off.

"time to go wake y/n up," natasha giggled, although she knew you'd be a challenge today. wanda followed her, too excited to wait on surprising you with lunch.

"y/n! c'mon, a special someone is here to see you."

a groan could be heard from the bed as you up to see who was there. you smiled at the sight of wanda and she immediately brought you in for a squeeze-the-life-out-of-you hug.

you didn't miss her smile faltering when she let you go.

you were still just as boney and thin as you were when you left the compound. three weeks was nothing, but you swore you could feel every ounce of weight gain coming back.

wanda helped you out of bed, allowing you to lean on her as she guided you into the kitchen. it was a good thing too, because you were more light headed than usual.

"what are you doing here?" wanda smiled and pushed the already prepared plate of food towards you. it'd been a few minutes and you hadn't even touched your fork. "what? couldn't surprise you?" natasha giggled from your left. you already seemed to be in a much better mood with wanda around than you had been this morning. but both women caught onto the fact that you were only shoving the food on your plate, not making any effort at all to actually eat it.

nat tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, "you have to eat, you know the deal we made." her push was soft, but it didn't make things any easier.

you sighed, tightening the grip around your fork. things like this shouldn't be so hard. it was food. food is fuel, food is good, but somewhere in your mind those messages were twisted and crumpled into something that could never be more false.

you leaned into natasha, keeping your face shielded away from the plate. tears sprung into your eyes and you begged for her to not make you eat.

"tasha, just one day, please. i promise i'll eat tomorrow-"

"i wish that were true, i really do, sweetheart." nat rubbed your shoulder before pushing you back, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "i'm going to go grocery shopping and run a few extra errands. wanda will be here to watch you finish your meal and to have a snack or two before i get back. i love you, okay?"

(you knew she did. but holy fuck, why did she have to do this to you.)

"yeah, you too." and with that, natasha grabbed her keys, kissed you on the forehead and left.

you don't know why, but you didn't actually think wanda would listen to natasha. that belief was quickly thrown out when you moved to get up from the table, wanda quick to grab your wrist and stop you from going to far.

"stay. please? just a few bites, i won't tell natasha if you don't..." she pleaded. a feeling of safety grew in your chest. your level of trust with her had always been high, but this time it felt more intimate. wanda was seeing you at your worst, a vulnerable position you'd never let anyone else but tasha see, and yet, wanda decided to stay.

it took over an hour for you to manage half a meal. wanda sat through it all, however, and coaxed you through each bite.

now, two hours later with a snack in hand, you sat quietly on the porch, head resting on wanda's lap with her fingers tied in your hair.

"do you talk to nat?"

"sometimes. actually yeah, most of the time i talk to her. it helps, and she's a great listener." you complimented.

"wanda?"

"hm?"

"why are you doing this?"

wanda looked down at you, seeing your eyes bore into her and bit her lip, "it's hard to see the girl that i loved and the girl that came back. i should've noticed before you went on your mission, but i didn't because i was too wrapped up with my own issues."

"you can't blame yourself, wanda. i didnt want to be seen. you couldn't have done anything different."

she hummed, ears perking up at the sound of natashas car pulling in the driveway.

you jumped up from her lap and ran to help tasha with her groceries, earning a loving glare from the redhead.

oh yeah. no strenuous activity. too many calories that you needed would be burned off. at least that's what you were told anyway.

wanda stayed the rest of the day, even through dinner. (only because you begged natasha to let her stay that long.)

natasha didn't seem to mind that she stayed. the redhead heard more laughs and giggles from you than she'd heard in the past six months.

the worst part about the day ending was the fact that wanda had to leave eventually.

(eventually being now.)

you pouted. you weren't ready for her to go just yet.  she'd taken your mind off of so much today and you weren't sure you could face it again. really, you didn't want to face it again.

"i believe in you." she murmured.

stupid mind reading.

wanda rolled her eyes, "i'm serious, y/n. you've got this. you're amazing."

“you're only saying that because you have to.”

her eyebrows pulled together. "no. i'm saying it because i know it's true. you've got a gift, y/n. what you have– you're going to get it back."

you inhaled.

"next time i see you, i want you to be a little bit more healthy, okay?" wanda gave you a tight hug and left without another word. she just hoped the next time she saw you it wasn't in a casket.

you hoped the next time you saw her, you'd be better.

today wasn't easy, but it gave you a taste of everything you'd been missing.

and you wanted it back.

[bumbleklee]

Hey, I just want to say... I've been there before, and it's okay to take a break and step back every once in a while. I really, really understand taking the whole "content producing" thing too seriously, being someone who has worked themselves into a writer's block over that several times already...

So I want you to know, it's fine to just take your mind off things. Do something different. Write small things that YOU wanna write. Close your requests for a while. Take a hiatus. Whatever it is, try to see what your mind needs to recover right now and then do that. If it helps you, maybe just do a list of stuff you wanna do and find a bit of organization for WHEN you'll do it (tho not in a super strict "this HAS to get done now" way). You could try a writing journal if that's something you enjoy (in general, journaling can be good to clear your mind a little and make yourself feel better). Maybe find some people to do writing sprints with (that always helps me a lot with actually getting stuff done, even if I just do them by myself) Just don't let writing become an obligation, make it a fun thing. Once you stop taking it all that serious, the enjoyment is likely gonna return as well.

And for whatever else is making you feel unwell... I hope you get through it and feel better again soon. Also, if you're comfortable with that, have a hug here: (っ.❛ ᴗ ❛.)っ💛

this was so very sweet anon - thank you for sending it to me. i think a big issue is that i hosted a couple events with the full intentions of completing them all and then when it came to actually sit down and write, i have nothing. and it makes me feel so horrible because i said i would do something, these people are waiting for me to write them their specific fic, and i just can’t. i don’t know if i’m in a writers block or just a regular slump or whatever but it sucks. i have a lot of ideas and when it comes to actually putting them down, i draw a blank.

i love writing about my family series but i know not everyone is comfortable with the idea of babies and families and so i don’t want to just write about that - but it’s the other things that i’m struggling with the most. also requests were really nice when i was first starting my blog but now that i have a decent following and a popular series, they just don’t help as much anymore :(

but im definitely going to try and take your suggestions into consideration. i might write stories and just not post them. also what are writing sprints?

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

I’m back on my bullshit and we have GOT TO TALK about 13x08 The Scorpion and the Frog; which serves as a good example of why you should not ONLY watch spn episodes with Cas (partially because of that scene I shamefully blogged about earlier - no I will not link that cursed post here).  The episode title comes from a fable in which the villain is the scorpion.  Interpretations of this fable note its uniqueness lies in the concept that “the scorpion is irrationally self destructive and fully aware of it.”

To quote the scorpion, buddies -  “it’s in my nature.”

Anyway, this episode is subtextually predicated on exploring Dean Winchester’s nature and specifically - his bisexuality, and I’m not only saying that because it opens with Dean in his Bi Colors Plaid (that also he wore on his burger date with Cas).

Let’s get started, after the cut!

Season 13 on its face gives me absolute whiplash because it starts widow arc-reunion-TOMBSTONE and then Jack yeets himself off to Chuck knows where so Cas can go out Looking For Him Because Otherwise He Will Definitely Kiss Dean there is no other option for the writers at this point.  Sigh.  Here, have another shot of Dean anxiously cleaning his gun as he always does when Cas has Gone Off For Reasons -

Anyway, this feels like a filler episode at first, but as always they bury the ENTIRE damn world in it and I am here with my dossier to Unearth It.

Lets start with Bart (demon of terrible nicknames and microagressions) meeting the brothers at Smile Diner to talk about some spell or whatever. 

(I am not thinking about the Cherry Pie meta I AM NOT)

THEY HAVE THE AUDACITY to start with these lines immediately introducing the theme of duality, a thread throughout this episode.

BARTHAMUS

Everything. I've been following your careers a long time. You're a real pain in the pitchfork. And the halo. Natural disrupters. We have that in common, you and I. DEAN

Mm. Yeah, we're twinsies.

***MORE DUALITY!  But as we know, Dean does not like Bart because He Is A Freakin’ Demon

DEAN

Well, see, here's the thing. When a demon tells us to jump, we don't ask how high. We just ice their ass.

UMMM excuse me Barting Bacting Boices?  What is that sexual gaze?  

Then we find out that Bart has 1/2 of the spell.  They need the other 1/2.  Oh, a spell with two parts, you say? [ I am going to scream :) ]

***Also, Dean eats the pie Bart ordered.  I cannot begin to explain to you the state of unwellness that I am in regarding how important this is. DEAN NEVER GETS TO EAT THE PIE, remember?  But in This Filler Episode, Dean eats the pie. While Sam looks at him with a very quizzical expression.  Pie -> what Dean wants but never actually gets -> Dean actively eating this pie.  Dean is coming to terms that maybe he can have what he wants.

***I am reminding you again that this is post widower-arc, post-reunion, and especially post-Tombstone.  Anyway-

Now we get to Smash and Grab.  Not literally even though I want to Commit Such Conduct at this point.  We are introduced to two one off characters named 

Smash (human/female presenting) -  can crack any safe built by man 

and Grab (demon/male presenting)-  expert in bypassing supernatural security.

Reaching or no, you can’t disagree that when spn introduces one off characters - it is almost always a Narrative Parallel or Mirror.

So we have a human and a demon (and Dean Winchester, a human who has been a demon)

who are experts in cracking open/bypassing something that has been secured and guarded (breaking down walls, if you will).  

They also use fake names identifying them as Tools to be Used ( Dean Winchester, the Michael Sword/daddys blunt little instrument)

BONUS:

Dean himself is literally used as a tool in this episode.

So yeah.  Smash and Grab are physical representations of Dean’s duality.  Human/Demon.  Femininity/Masculinity.  Dare we say something else, too?

Anyway, Dean is paired with Smash and Grab; Sam is off to idk negotiate weird artifact purchases lawboy style with Luther Shrike, a man who cannot die so long as he never leaves his house (I cannot even begin to unpack this shit; please just sit there and think about it.  I’m not even going there here.  I CANNOT DISCUSS Luther Shrike RN).

Speaking of things I cannot discuss without halgdhsag;lsa - Smash has very Specific boots (a look overall, really).

DEAN

Hey, Winona. The '90s called. They'd like their shoes back. SMASH

Shh.

***That’s right girl - do not take his shit; he actually LOVES them and is therefore Overcompensating for it with this little jab.

***Dean’s pop culture references and particular attention to the details here Should Not Be Overlooked.  90s! Winona! Ryder!

ANYWAY, then Dean and Smash bond over a caffeinated beverage -

[While Dean is doing a spell, Smash opens a can of drink, takes a mouthful and burps loudly. ] SMASH

Ahh. DEAN

You're weird.

***This scene makes me literally insane. (even aside from Dean living on something named NERVE DAMAGE as a KID.  They could have called it anything. You’re saying this wasn’t a Choice)  

She chugs a swallow of the drink and burps.  Something stereotypically associated with masculinity.  Not feminine.  Dean’s reaction is that she is “weird” - because she is not acting in a way stereotypically, J*hn Winchester brain-rot patriarchy bullshit-tily associated with Being Female.  But also, says the stupid show, they like the same soda.  They are The Same.  She shares the soda with Dean.  HIS FACE WHEN SHE DOES -

Other similarities are addressed throughout the episode (they are working for demons because they have no choice; they don’t discuss feelings/emotions, they both sold their soul, they both This Thing - 

DEAN

You know, we could help you. SMASH

No, you can't. I gotta take care of me.

etc. etc.) Smash is absolutely dean-coded.

****Also it’s textually established that Smash thinks Dean is attractive -

GRAB

[looking at Smash] Oh. You said he was just a pretty face. SMASH 

Shh.

***But Grab flirts with him too.

DEAN

I will kill you. GRAB

I bet you say that to all the girls.

***sorry, Grab - you won’t get far with Dean, but only because as he mentioned in the beginning of this episode - 

Drowley rights.

Now Dean has to put his hand in the mouth of this stone lion thing and all of a sudden he is acting....very-not-like-Dean.

[Dean looks again and takes a deep breath.] DEAN

I… how about this? What if I cut myself, put it on, like, a little piece of paper? We'll just wad it up and throw it in the mouth, okay? Okay. 

***Dean Winchester, who has been to Literal HELL, who has been torn apart by hellhounds, who has battled the devil and angels and God’s sister - all at the expense of his own life is now - afraid of spiders.  Well, technically he has always been afraid of spiders, but why isn’t ‘he being performative about it At This Time??

***Come to think of it, this sends me right back to how Jackles was playing Dean in 12x11 Regarding Dean THE episode dissecting Dean’s performative masculinity [one day I will clean up and post that analysis sitting in my drafts like a sad hamster]. That makes sense actually, because -> -> ->

that episode and this one are both written by Meredith Glynn.  Girl get in I want to torture you affectionately with a barrage of questions.

So here we have Dean and he’s not performing for Reasons, and he’s scared he’s genuinely scared of putting his hand in this stone lion-gargoyle-pig-creature’s mouth and then -

Smash gives him a push.

She gives him a push.  I cannot stop thinking about how she gives him a push.  A push to go do this thing that he is scared of; his fear being something he was hiding under his performative masculinity. Smash - dean coded dean mirror who does not perform femininity and is ‘weird’ -  she   gives   him   a     p u s h.

***linking here for the jackting joices that follow.

Now, let’s circle back to Smash’s story; why she is working for Bart in the first place -

SMASH

You think I wanna be here? Like I have a choice? SAM

You made a deal. SMASH

Wow! You think? SAM

You sold your soul. SMASH

And if I could take it back, I would. 

there is no reason for this picture here other than I needed you to see the jackting again

***How does the story end for Smash?

DEAN

Take care of you. [Dean glances down at the box, and then at Smash. She sees that Dean has put a lighter on top of the bones.]  BARTHAMUS

Alice, chop chop! 

[Bart indicates she should get his bones]. SMASH

Yeah. [She grabs the lighter and sets Bart's bones alight. Bart screams as he bursts into flames. ] 

***She accepts help and breaks free from the narrative, literally burning it down. The female presenting but not female-performing “weird” ooc representing a side of Dean breaks FREE because she makes a choice.  The lighter Dean drops? It’s a push.  And she goes with it.

Alice reclaims her story.

(Also, Grab gets ganked.  The male presenting ooc; the performative masculinity side; the demon; the darkness; the not-humanity - gets ganked).

Guess what Dean says to Alice when they say goodbye?

DEAN

Hey, Alice. Stay weird.

[I know the peace sign is probably just a Charlie throwback but I’d still like to say duality.  Two. ]

Dean’s not just talking to Alice.  He’s talking to himself; because the walls have been breached and for once Dean isn’t as scared of being different.  Maybe, just maybe, he’s going along with the push.  That’s exactly how the episode ends - with Dean feeling a little more hopeful, a little more at peace; a little more Considering he is capable of not only loving Cas but also not hating himself for it. 

[until the knowledge that Mary is still alive and the guilt of allowing himself ANY happy thoughts instead of looking for her miserably rears its ugly head in 13x09 and round and round we go but for NOW at least -> ]

DEAN

I'll drink to that.

(oh look Dean is just wearing his henley.  It’s almost as if a layer has been peeled back).

tagging @im-shaking-like-milk​ and @deanwasalwaysbi​ for letting me ramble on to them while writing this; and @lilac-void​ because you are always so kind about my stuff :)

[megalony]

Chest infection

This is a dad! Harry Styles imagine that I hope everyone is going to enjoy, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Summary: Harry and (Y/n) spend the day looking after their daughter when she’s sick.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly lifting his head from where it was tucked into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck, Harry glanced his eyes over to the clock on the side table behind (Y/n), his blurring vision seeing that it was six in the morning. It was far too early to get up when he didn't have to head down to the studio and had no interviews or meetings or press events he had to go to. It was especially too early to get up when he had gotten back at eleven last night from a press event and didn't get to sleep until gone midnight.

But he knew that it had been a few hours since he had last checked on his little girl and he just wanted to go and make sure that she was okay. For the past week Amber had been suffering with a chest infection and (Y/n) and Harry had taken to checking on her every few hours during the night just to make sure she was fine and breathing okay since she was prone to coughing and wheezing a lot.

It took a lot of effort for Harry to tear himself away from (Y/n) and stand up but once his feet hit the carpet and his head cleared, he slowly trudged out of the room and down the hall to Amber's room.

A small smile formed on Harry's lips when he quietly peeked his head round the door into the pale aqua blue room that was dimly lit up by the paper fairy lights hanging up in loops above the bed which always reminded Harry of Christmas lights.

He'd been peering his head round the door every few hours since he got back home last night, making sure his little girl was okay. He was glad he didn't have to go into the studio today and do any recording or writing because it meant he could stay home and make sure Amber was okay. Harry was about to turn around and leave the room but he heard Amber's raspy voice calling out for him.

"Daddy." Her voice was quiet but croaky and followed by a cough that made Harry shiver and wince. He hated when either (Y/n) or Amber were ill, he didn't know what to do to help and when Amber was a baby and she was ill it made Harry feel so helpless when trying to make her feel better.

He turned back in her direction and slowly walked into the room and across the navy blue carpet that his feet sank into like he was walking on sand. When he reached Amber he laid down on the bed beside her, opening his arms so she could cuddle up into his chest. When she tucked herself against him Harry kissed the top of her head, fighting hard to stay awake when he could feel his mind so close to shutting down from the lack of sleep he'd had so far tonight.#

"You okay baby girl?" He whispered quietly against her hair, feeling how she was wheezing every few breaths but he was glad he could hear the tiredness in her voice, she needed to get some more sleep.

"Hmm. S-sing daddy, please?" Amber was already on the way to sleep when she spoke, Harry could hear her voice dropping and her head lolling against his chest because it was too much effort to try and look up at him. But he would indulge her and sing to her to make sure she got to sleep. Normally whether they were in the car, cooking, dancing around the house or even just taking a walk, Amber and Harry would be singing together. But right now they both knew Amber wasn't in the best state to sing so she would settle for listening to Harry sing to get her to sleep.

Lullabies always worked on the four year old ever since she was born, Harry singing was the best remedy she could want.

Harry very quietly started to sing Sweet Creature to her which was Amber and his mother's favourite song of his but halfway through the lyrics he turned to humming the song instead when Amber was already asleep. He started to card his fingers through Amber's matching chocolate brown locks, undoing any knots and tangles in her hair as he lulled himself to sleep with his girl in his arms.

Harry didn't know how long he had been asleep but when he slowly cracked his eyes open the room was significantly lighter than before. The glow of the fairy lights was dimmed out by the light passing through the thin curtains. He tipped his head back into the pillow as his tired eyes focused on (Y/n) sitting on the side of the bed beside him, her eyes slowly drifting between him and Amber. It was unusual to see Harry laying on his back when he always slept on his side but it was very endearing to see him laying like this with Amber sprawled out on his chest with her head tucked neatly under his chin.

"How's she doing?"

(Y/n) reached over and brushed some of Amber's hair back behind her ear as Harry simultaneously did the same to his own hair before rubbing at his eyes with the base of his hand to try and wake himself up. He caught sight of the clock on the wall opposite him saying that it was half past eight so he'd had just over two hours of sleep with Amber. Presumably she'd had the same amount of sleep or else she would have woken him up.

"She's good, been sound asleep." Both parents could hear the croaky way she was breathing but she was calm and asleep and not gasping for air which showed she wasn't getting any worse.

"Bring her to sleep in our room, I miss you both." It took Harry a moment longer than it should have for him to realise that (Y/n) was still in her pyjamas meaning she hadn't gotten up or got breakfast yet, (Y/n) had a thing for getting dressed before doing anything in the morning.

A fond smile formed on Harry's lips when (Y/n) leaned down, tucking her face into the crook of his neck so she could press butterfly kisses to his skin causing shivers to run up and down his spine.

"Come on then." Harry kissed (Y/n)'s cheek before he slowly sat up, cradling Amber to his chest since was still asleep and he wanted to keep it that way. He methodically ran his fingers through Amber's hair as he tiredly followed (Y/n) out of the room and down to their room. The moment Harry carefully sat down on the bed he froze when Amber let out a cough against his chest causing him to rub his hand up and down her back for a few moments.

(Y/n) reached her arm out and pulled Amber close to her chest when Harry settled her in the middle of the bed under the covers with them. The four year old scrunched up the cover around her, curling her arms and legs up to her chest as her breathing crackled like static but she seemed much calmer than yesterday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"D-daddy?" Amber's spluttering yet worried voice snapped Harry out of the daze he had been in for a while watching the random tv programme that had been on for about an hour now just before (Y/n) had gotten a shower and gone downstairs to get some jobs done. His arm retracted from resting behind his head and he looked down at Amber.

The four year old had been asleep on and off since coming into her parent's room and she hadn't been eating very much either. Harry knew for the past half an hour she hadn't been asleep but she had been laid down under his arm pressed up to his side with her eyes closed so he figured she was just resting since she was unwell.

"What's up, baby?" His fingers carded through Amber's hair for a few moments but he could feel his heartbeat increasing when Amber was beginning to cough and splutter more than she was actually breathing in.

Harry sat himself up better on the bed before he gently lifted Amber up so she was sitting beside him rather than laying down. He rubbed his hand up and down her back to see if it would help get her lungs working better and help her to take in a proper breath but he could see the way her eyes were full of fright as they burned into his own. She was looking at him in fear like she was trying to search his eyes to find the answers she needed.

The sudden cry that left Amber's lips startled Harry and made him lean back in shock when her cry sounded like she was gasping for air but wailing at him at the same time like he had done something wrong.

"Shh, hey it's okay, you're okay." Harry rested one hand on Amber's chest and the other kept rubbing up and down her back to try and help. It was like the time she had fallen down the stairs and knocked all the wind out of her system, she just had to figure out how to get rid of the shock and breathe properly again. The more Amber panicked the worse her breathing was going to be.

A sense of panic rushed through Harry when tears started to fall from Amber's eyes and she was still gasping like a fish out of water.

After a minute had passed, Harry moved his hand and gently brushed the tears from Amber's eyes but the frown on his face creased and deepened and he felt like his heart was breaking in his chest at seeing his girl wheezing like this. There was a panicked look in her eyes when she seemed to breathe out and cough but not be able to take any air in.

Tears welled in Harry's eyes when Amber suddenly gasped and seemed to grog like her throat muscles were rubbing together, not allowing her to breathe. One of her hands reached out and grabbed Harry's arm but the other started to wave up and down in front of her chest to indicate that it was hurting and that she couldn't breathe, as if Harry didn't already know this. Another choking sound left Amber's lips before she scrunched her eyes up tightly and let out the most groggy, strangled wail which boarded on a scream that Harry had ever heard.

"Alright baby girl, it's alright." Hooking his hands under her arms, Harry picked Amber up from sitting on the bed so he could hold her against his chest with her arms around his neck and her chin resting on his shoulder. He grabbed the blanket resting beside him and wrapped it around them both, tucking it around Amber before he slowly but forcefully started to rub his hand up and down her back and between her shoulder blades.

When Harry felt her breaths becoming more normal instead of rapid coughing and no intakes, he slowly stood to his feet, keeping the blanket tightly around Amber before he made his way out of the room and down to the bathroom. A bath and a lot of steam was what Amber needed right now to help her chest.

"D-daddy it h.. hurts..." There was a fearful tone to Amber's crackling voice and her arms tightened significantly around Harry's neck when he reached the bathroom.

He could feel the way she was shaking against him and he was sure she could feel the nerves radiating off of him from how badly she was breathing. Harry remembered when he and his sister used to have bad chest infections, their mother swore by steam and hot baths to calm down any fever and open their chests to let them breathe so he was going to follow his mother's example and pray that it helped.

"You're gonna have a bath baby girl and it'll make you feel better I promise."

Moving over to the pale pink bath mat, Harry sat down cross-legged and settled Amber on his lap, keeping her bundled under the blanket against his chest to try and keep her chest warm to help her breathing. He kept the bathroom window closed and reached across to turn on the taps to run the bath. Waiting for it to full felt like Harry was waiting three lifetimes over as he sat swaying Amber in his arms until the water filled to a substantial amount and was layered with bubbles.

The bath couldn't have filled up quick enough when Harry realised Amber was breathing in more and more but she wasn't breathing out this time rather than the other way around. It sounded like her throat muscles were clenching and pressing together like she was having an allergic reaction to something when she wasn't.

He made sure the temperature was hot but not hot enough to scold or burn Amber before he unravelled the blanket from around her. The little girl's nose was running, her eyes were red and puffy but her skin was pale and her lips were parted and she was coughing brutally.

"Come on baby."

Harry stood Amber to her feet in front of him and took off her Winnie The Pooh pyjamas, watching the way she shivered and tilted her head back to see if it would help with her breathing. He wasted no more time before gently lifting her up and sitting her in the bath. It clearly took Amber a moment to adjust to the water temperature but when she slowly lowered her shoulders into the water, her coughing changed to grumbles and clearing her throat before she seemed to settle down in just over a minute.

Harry stayed sitting beside the bath, watching the steam swirl around Amber like wheels of smoke enveloping around her in a comforting hug. He dipped his hand into the water so he could splash some bubbles at her, watching how she breathed much better and seemed a lot calmer in the bubbles and the water and that in turn made him feel better.

"Harry?" (Y/n) tried to read her husband's face when she looked into the bathroom to see if he and Amber were in here. She came back upstairs and they were no longer in their bedroom or Amber's room.

"She wasn't doing so good so I... I thought the steam might help." The dwindling panic on Harry's faced said it all and showed the anxiety he had gone through just moments ago.

(Y/n) closed the door behind her and kneeled down on the mat beside Harry, her eyes focusing on Amber who was tiredly playing with a sponge and hitting at the bubbles. She was still croaky and her breaths were uneven but at least she was breathing and didn't look like she was struggling too much. (Y/n) leaned her head on Harry's shoulder as he ran his fingers through his hair, it was naturally curly anyway but the steam was making his hair curl even worse into small but millions of little crimped curls rather than longer waves.

"I'll get her out now, could you grab her onesie?" (Y/n) moved over until she was kneeling beside the end of the tub where Amber was. She would take over since Harry had spent most of the night and morning with her but (Y/n) knew it would be better to put Amber in her thick woolly onesie to keep her warm and stop the cold from getting to her chest. "Come on baby, I think you need another nap."

(Y/n) whipped the towel from the radiator and wrapped it around Amber when the four year old tiredly stood up, smiling weakly when (Y/n) lifted her from the tub and sat her down on her lap to dry her off.

The only good thing about when Amber was sick or feeling under the weather was the fact that she was so attached to both parents and wanted endless cuddles and that was something that Harry adored.

When Harry came back into the bathroom he kneeled beside his girls, handing (Y/n) the baby blue mixed with light pink onesie, watching (Y/n) get Amber changed as he sat with a fluffy blanket in his hands ready to wrap Amber up in to keep her warm.

Harry was about to hand the blanket over to (Y/n) to wrap around Amber but he had no time before a sudden coughing fit overtook the four year old that made her cheeks turned a vibrant shade of crimson and caused the muscles around her neck to constrict and tighten. It was clear that the steam had only cleared her chest and lungs for so long because she could barely catch enough oxygen to breathe right now despite the room being covered in steam that made it hard to see straight.

The moment Amber managed to take in a proper breath, a wail left her lips that made (Y/n) shiver and sent Harry reeling. She looked like she was in so much pain and Amber had a very small pain threshold, even a minor paper cut or a stubbed toe sent her into fits of tears. She didn't know what to do or how to react when she was ill and cuddles could only calm her down and work for so long.

"Ohh, baby." Harry cooed when Amber started to cry which sounded more like broken static on a tv.

Harry smiled sadly when Amber shuffled across from (Y/n)'s lap into his own, snuggling into the blanket when he wrapped it around her before he gently picked her up and stood to his feet along with (Y/n). They needed to bundle Amber back under the covers in bed and keep her warm but the couple knew a trip to the hospital was most likely what was going to happen later on today if Amber got any worse.

"Let's get you back to bed."