#i love that the show is half depressing and half the stupidest shit in the world so i was delighted

[lyril]

the only big acclaimed bojack episodes i knew about before watching were all the ones that are like the deepest hardest to get through episodes and last night we just watched the fish one that's a half hour of underwater cartoon shenanigans and animal jokes with no dialouge and were like Oh my god????? the whole entire time because i was not aware of it at all but it was incredible

[mittensmorgul]

Dean died standing up, which on one hand seems symbolic for "dying on his feet not his knees", ie. it was his choice (i call BS). but it was also like Christ's crucifixion: killed for his love (for Cas/men) and faith that life can get better - it did when he "rose" again, but it was Heaven not Earth, ie. a fantasy. Who Dean Was wasn't the only thing that was killed, it was What He Believed In/Wanted as well: a better life, full of love.

How many times over the years has Dean just begun to see light at the end of the tunnel, only to have it ripped away in a horrific cosmic twist that refuses to let him have a win, only to get back up and keep fighting and putting away that dream until it starts to look like they might finally be on the horizon of an actual win again?

Let’s just think back over the history of “toes in the sand” dreaming, specifically, which is something that really became obvious in s10 when they seemed to be on the verge of finding a “cure” for the mark, that they were under the false belief all season was merely a curse that could be undone. He started dreaming of a vacation, of being able to let go of the need to stand between humanity and cosmic fuckery, and just... relax on a beach and enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while. But that was not to be, because the mark was much more than a curse, and unleashed a whole new round of cosmic garbage to clean up.

13.23 took this to new levels of personal punishment for Dean thinking he might deserve a peaceful retirement:

You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously.

HE WAS EXCITED ABOUT RETIREMENT and sharing this joy with his loved ones! But by the end of that episode he would have no other choice but to say yes to Michael to save Sam and Jack (and the rest of the world...), and the narrative snatched him up and used him again.

It’s what he’s been fighting for all season long in 15, too. First he had to come to grips with what was even real about his life, if anything was ever even his choice. This season pushed him to truly understand what was real-- that Cas was probably the realest thing he’s ever encountered, and the cosmic forces that had always torn that dream of retiring (or even getting a vacation) from his grasp had also actively been trying to take Cas from him, too. But despite all that, Cas kept coming back to him anyway, and isn’t that an actual miracle?

And when he finally does get the ultimate win against the cosmos in 15.19, it’s at the greatest possible cost. Cas is lost to him, but even still he tries to make that sacrifice worth something by living his life as best he can.

And then he lives like two days before being killed in the stupidest possible fashion. Like... 

wtf, on every level

“Oh but he’s got an eternity of happiness in heaven!”

NO. *smacks everyone responsible for this travesty with a rolled up newspaper*

“But that’s just how the Supernatural universe works!”

NO. *gets out the newspaper again*

That is not how *our* world works. For every person among us who has identified with Dean or with Cas, we don’t get to look forward to happy heaven forever. We have *one* life (as far as any of us know) and it’s irrevocably precious. DEAN felt his life was irrevocably precious, too, because Cas convinced him it was, that he was worthy of living and being loved for exactly who he was.

And they both died for it.

And in a world where a... how did I phrase this in another post recently... where a proto-fascist evangelical death cult that’s taken over large parts of the us government and would see all not-straight, not-white, not-wealthy, not-abled and not-them in every other way punished or erased simply for trying to exist in society, and who truly believes that life on earth ain’t shit and their real reward will come only once they reach heaven, this is a really awful end for a canon queer couple moments after that love was made textual in a confession.

Like... really bad.

There is no defense of this choice. Writing is ALWAYS a choice. And sometimes writing simply to serve the story (like showing us that Heaven is fixed and now a paradise) doesn’t serve the audience at all. And sometimes those choices are actively harmful to the audience. I don’t just mean the queer audience (or in Eileen’s case, the disabled audience). I mean THE ENTIRE audience, including people who enjoyed the finale. Because it reinforces that the disabled can simply be erased entirely, and that confessing to loving someone is fulfillment enough and merits instant death and subsequent erasure. Not just for Cas, who confessed, but for Dean who never had the chance to confess his own feelings. Never even had the chance to really live out beyond that confession. Never even addressed it in death, either. It was just a punishment for daring to want to live free of everything that had forced him back into the story over and over again at the whim of a cruel and capricious god.

(This isn’t even satisfying for Sam, who apparently ran away again to live out the half-life he’d tried to make for himself every time he’s run away from his life throughout the entire narrative. His wife was irrelevant, he lived for his son he named for his dead brother, and barely even seemed content in that life let alone fulfilled and happy. Dean’s year away from hunting with Lisa had a more positive and hopeful montage associated with it. It’s depressing as fuck that Sam finally found his way free of all of it, and it’s like he just kept clinging to life out of a sense of duty rather than of his own free will. And it’s entirely baffling in every way. Like none of the previous 15 years of growth and coming to understand the balance of his own life meant anything. What a waste.)

The finale says there is no reward in life for people like me, and that I should just be okay with that. And readers, I am not okay with that.

So... I’m happy to throw away the finale with both hands. It didn’t happen, because it’s just that horrific to me.

And if anyone reading this actually does think the finale was good, or satisfying, then I just invite you to understand why so many of us are horrified that you can. Why we might not feel like you’re trustworthy. Just a little explainer here, because for some of us, the story of Supernatural was in the hoping, and in the end the message felt way too much like don’t even try hoping, you will always lose in the end, and that’s just not okay.

Dean deserved his retirement, he deserved to be able to tell Cas he loved him too, and he deserved a long, happy life of his own free choice. He deserved to be able to follow his heart. And all of this, everything that happened instead, was a deliberate choice. Just not DEAN’S choice.

[anika-ann]

The Best Mistake of My Life - Pt.1

Type: One-shot/ch1 of a series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 4100

Summary: A soulmate AU. They say having a soulmate is a blessing. Who wouldn’t love the idea of star-crossed lovers, right?

Neither Steve Rogers nor you consider yourself lucky though. It probably has something to do with the lines written on your skin. Because if the words are anything to go by, you’re not sure you want to meet each other.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF 

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Steve Rogers was born a sickly baby.

Born a sickly boy to a single mother in the time of great depression, money thin, his health even thinner and having a pathetic number of friends; though that never really bothered him. What his friendships lacked in quantity was hundred times compensated by quality. Bucky Barnes’ loyalty was everything Steve could ask for.

And what Steven Grant Rogers himself lacked in height and strength of body was made up for by the strength of will, amount of determination and a great compassionate heart, ready to welcome anyone sans bullies there.

Perhaps God had seen that Steven would grow into a man carrying his heart on his sleeve and decided that this man should be blessed with a love so magnificent they would tell stories about it; people always had. People were always telling tales about soulmates.

Having a soulmate wasn’t necessarily rare, but not everyone was bound to have one. Being one of the lucky ones was an amazing gift; a promise of a connection as unbreakable as the thread of fate, a promise of an unconditional love.

To know person had found the one, their soulmate, those who were blessed with one wore a brand on their skin, a clue to allow them to recognize their destined partner; a set of words.

It was the set of words what was troubling Steve Rogers the most. Despite Bucky’s reassurance, despite his mother’s last words, despite Steve willingness to fight everything else the world would kick into his way, he found moments in his life he cursed the words written on his skin, reminding him how weak he would always seem to people.

Above the visible line of his collarbone, sticking out on his rather skeletal frame, there sat the words of doom:

‘Oh no, there must be a mistake.’

The very first time his soulmate would spoke to him… they would be disappointed and silently praying that whatever force was behind bounding souls together made one hell of a misstep. A mistake.

That was what Steve was going to be to his soulmate; a mistake. A failure. A disappointment.

And why wouldn’t he be? Ninety pounds of rattling bones, list of illnesses longer than his birth certificate…. Every girl Bucky had ever tried to set him up with out of pity (which Bucky would deny until his last breath) had been disappointed.

“Maybe she’ll be more into brunettes. Maybe she won’t believe her soulmate is blond at first,” his friend would say, “or she’ll be from Queens and wouldn’t get over the fact you’re not, but once you’ll show her the true Brooklyn charm, she’ll fall to your feet.”

Then he would always pat Steve’s shoulder, pulling him into a one-arm hug and tried to get him a date once more.

Steve didn’t believe him. He never did, but recognizing his friend felt better if Steve played along, he would smile and poke his ribs in return.

“Whatever you say. Jerk.”

…

Much later, when he said to Peggy Carter that he was waiting for the right partner to dance with, he was starting to admit to himself that he wasn’t thinking about his so-called soulmate as the one. After all, he went against all odds, against rules, against destiny itself when he had been accepted to the army regardless of his fragile body. Maybe, just maybe it meant that not ending up with his soulmate was what would happen one day.

When he crushed the Valkyrie to the ocean, not even having taken a chance on Peggy Carter despite her obvious interest, he must admit he had been lying to himself.

His last realization concerned his soulmate; despite wanting to fight against the whole world, he couldn’t make himself to take a chance on Peggy Carter, a brilliant woman who was not carrying the right set of words.

His last regret was that he would never meet his true love.

His last thought was that maybe, his soulmate never had a set of words spoken by him on her skin – her first words to him might as well be the ones spoken when reading his obituary, somehow knowing he was supposed to belong with her.

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The moment you were old enough to understand the meaning of the word ‘soulmate’, you were intrigued by the concept; it probably had everything to do with the fact that you too were supposed to have a person meant to be your other half.

Every parent was bound to be delighted when their child was born with that kind of blessing, but the older you were getting, the more you understood what kind of a shock might occur when a kid had rather strange line supposedly spoken to them by their universe-chosen partner for life.

There were people who had words like ‘shit’ on them; literally. Not very delightful. Sometimes there were general lines like ‘Hello, how are you?”. Good luck hunting down the right person. In contrary, some people had a name on them; ‘Hi, I’m Peter Cameron.’ Lucky bastards.

And then… then there were people like you, whose words were just… weird.  

“But I really am 95,” you mumbled under your breath, tracing the handwriting right under your collarbone subconsciously, the first thing you did in the morning if you remembered – which wasn’t every day, not by a long shot.

“This is the stupidest thing ever…”

You shook your head and started to get ready for your day at the office.

Your opinion on your soulmark had been changing during the years. You had had a period of fascination, simply being proud of carrying it. Then you had understood the meaning of your words, and you had been horrified and desperate at the idea of meeting your soulmate at such age or worse, having one that old while you would be thirty or something when encountering them.

Then had come the phase of how could I avoid having a grandpa as my soulmate. Maybe the number meant something different – your soulmate’s weight (you really wouldn’t care for that, you reasoned), his temperature (he might be hypothermic at the moment, no?), his hotel room number, the number of a seat in a theatre perhaps… there were so many possibilities, right?

Now, you just tried not to think about it too hard. You had had boyfriends, never lasting longer than few months sans the one exception of George, who had turned out to be the biggest asshole in the world despite your belief he had might have been the one; until you had caught him in bed with another girl.

Maybe it was that deep inside you had never believed in the relationships you had, because the guy never said the right first words. Or maybe you were full of shit and you couldn’t keep a guy interested, god only knew – hence not thinking about it too hard, going on with your life and taking it as it was.

You might meet him, you might not. It wouldn’t be the first case of never encountering a soulmate. Life was funny that way.

Best not to let it ruin your day. A rather nice day it was, today. If you only didn’t have to spend it in the crowded office with people demanding their licences and taking out their frustrations on you. Well. You were a grown-up; you had to be okay with things not always being okay. Which sucked. But that was life.

…

You had a chance to have a shortest coffee break to exchange ‘hello’s with Ryan – your actual favourite person in the world, your platonic ‘soulmate’ (not in the ominous sense of the word), your boss who never really acted like a boss – and that was it. Apparently, half of Manhattan had gotten their licence this very date years back, so the office was ridiculously crowded. Thank god for the glass between you and the jungle; it shielded you at least partly.

You grabbed the file of request no. 57 that day – you were like a machine, okay, you couldn’t remember the office ever managing to deal with so many in only three hours – pulling out the documents and the licence to make another driver happy.

Your hands were acting on autopilot and you didn’t even glance up when an ID was pushed to you through the small space between the glass and the counter, checking the renewed licence first.

Your first thought was ‘oh wow’. That guy on the photo was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but snap your head up, checking out the real-life thing.

OH WOW.

Scratch the ‘gorgeous’. Replace it with ‘unreal’.

You were tempted to ask if he was made by an ancient sculptor and then brought to life, because his body was as incredible as his face; the broadness of his shoulders begged for a touch. His muscular arms were not so hidden in the sleeves of his dark green shirt. The shoulder-waist ratio was clearly a God’s mistake, a one you were thankful for.

Forget ancient sculptures. His face must have been sculptures by angels and they left him with a halo of blond hair as a reminder. And his eyes. Oh god, such pretty eyes…

He gave you an unsure smile, opening his mouth to probably accuse you of staring and you quickly dropped your gaze, returning to check the licence before you would give it to him.  

Your hand froze hovering above the date of birth. You hesitantly looked up again, biting your lip guiltily despite not being the one who had messed up. You felt kinda sorry for him waiting the line for nothing.

“Oh no, there must be a mistake…” you half apologized, half said only to yourself, meeting his suddenly alarmed gaze.

You put on your most apologetic face, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. How had someone messed it up again? The birth dates were with typos all the time. How?! There were only numbers for God’s sake! It wasn’t like the person inserting the data to the computer had to spell Buchwald or Mxyzptlk or something like that!

Damn you, Sheryl or Kira or you whoever have done this!

The man – Steven Grant Rogers, as you had learned from his sadly valueless driving licence – was staring at you, speechless. You were honestly getting worried, though you weren’t sure if you were more scared for him or for yourself in case of his reaction escalating.

So you went to explain.

“Uhm… I’m really sorry, mister-“ You quickly eyed the name ID he had given you, checking if the office got the name right at least. “-Rogers, but there seems to be a typo in… in your birth date. I apologize for the mistake our institution made, even though I wasn’t the one to-- you don’t need to know that, it doesn’t matter-- I’m so sorry you have to come here again, but I can’t really let you walk around or rather drive around with a licence claiming you were born in 1918, so…”

You had become so flustered, your cheeks burning, talking and talking without being able to stop, not making any sense even, until-

“But I really am 95,” he admitted sheepishly and you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, when something in your brain clicked.

The click was about as loud as an atomic bomb falling on Hiroshima. You were sure everyone had to hear it.

It shut you up immediately. Your whole body froze, your mind buzzing uselessly, not a single thought staying long enough for you to actually understand it. Until two words got stuck, shining in red letters like a neon sign in your brain.

Holy. Shit.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked, grabbing his useless licence and mechanically rising from your seat, walking away.

The moment no one could see you as you got into a hallway, you broke into a run. You acted on instinct. You ran and you ended up in front of Ryan’s office, stumbling in without knocking and without an atom of oxygen left in your lungs.

Ryan’s neatly combed hair swayed as he snapped his head to the door, his eyes strict until they took the newcomer – hint: you – in, widening instantly.

He quickly jumped to his feet, pacing to you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice filled with worries.

You weren’t able to answer, because—holy shit. Your eyes frantically scanned the room, unable to meet your friend’s gaze. “I-- I-“

A hand landed on your shoulder, your eyes immediately falling on it on instinct. Shit, you couldn’t breathe. Could you?

Ryan’s free hand found you chin, tilting your head so you faced him. “Hey, baby, look at me! What happened? Was someone too much of an asshole to you?”

“I’m not-- he’s-“

Ryan’s face screamed concern, but he had fixed it in a second, soothing smile on his lips. He led you to his sofa, the calming blue cushions enveloping you.

“Sit down on your ass and gimme that,” he maneuverer the document off the steely grip of your fingers, sitting next to you as he looked it over. “Huh, quite a looker this guy. So what did he do?“

“I—the- the licence says he was born in---in 1918,” you stammered, finally able to breathe in properly and speak.

Ryan squinted at the date and then rolled his eyes.

“Oh jeez, again? Why is it so hard to just get it right? I swear I’m gonna have to fire Sheryl, she’s a disaster. What’s wrong with her? It’s not like they would be making a licence for someone that old! There’s a photo goddammit!”

“Ry-Ry… he said he was 95.”

Another eye-roll was his answer. “Yeah, I can count. He would have been if he was born in 1918 instead of 1981.”

“No, you don’t-“ you licked your lips and swallowed against the lump that grew in your throat. Your voice was as shake as your hands. “He just told me that. That he really was 95.”

Your friend observed you silently for a beat, not following. And then realization hit him like a train.

“Oh. OH. No shit?!”

It was your turn to stare silently, your mind loud enough to make noise and fill the space of Ryan office.

“Damn, does he really look like that? Lucky bitch!”

“Ryan!” you yelped in surprise when his fist bumped your shoulder, almost knocking you off balance.

It worked though. It grounded you and threw you back to reality. You tried your best to calm your breathing, but damn. This guy… he was your soulmate. You just met your soulmate. And he wasn’t a grandpa. He didn’t weight 95 pounds either. You weren’t in a hotel, neither in a theatre.

No. The number was only about one tiny mistake— oh, ohhh shit, what was the first thing you had said to him? Oh fuck. Way to go, girl!

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked rubbing the spot he had punched.

“No!” you shot back immediately, your mind racing.

“You know what I mean. You look better now. Though I gotta say, so is he. His face really is quite easy on the eyes. How about the rest of him?”

Ry-Ry, your bi-side is showing.

You chuckled at the easy talk, the tension from your shoulders falling a bit.

“Well… yeah, he’s like a model. So out of my league…” you muttered, remembering your ogling. This guy was your soulmate? Wasn’t it a mistake?

Ryan was suspiciously quiet; normally you would expect him to scold you for selling yourself short. Instead, he was staring at the licence, his lips parted in silent shock.

What now?

“What?” you demanded, following his line of gaze.

Ryan just chuckled, the incredulous sound ringing, echoing in the quiet space. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but I might not fire Sheryl just yet.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“Remember that one time aliens were falling from the sky?”

You blinked in surprise at that question, not following his train of thoughts. “Uhm… yeah? Pretty hard to forget that…?”

You were lucky you hadn’t been smashed under a building that day. Many people in Manhattan were, some sadly not. So yeah, you remembered.

“You remember the waitress from the café talking after the incident?”

“Oh my god, Ry-Ry, just spill it! I’m not following!”

Your friend huffed in exasperation, shoving the licence in your face, his finger on the name.

Steven Grant Rogers. Yeah, you could read too.

“That name should ring a bell, you dumbass! Would you say that this guy is handsome enough to be Captain America?” he hissed, making your heart stop.

Oh. Oh shit.

OH SHIT.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Oh my god. He really is 95,” you breathed out, your brain somehow choosing the least logical reaction to this whole revelation.

Ryan laughed. “Ding-ding, we have a winner! Holy crap, baby, I think you just got yourself a superhero soulmate!”

And just like that, you started panicking again. You gulped, watching the driving licence as if it could blow up.

“Shit, Ry-Ry! What do I do?” you whispered, desperation soaking through. What were you supposed to do upon that revelation? Captain America was your freaking soulmate!

Ryan smiled at you reassuringly, patting your cheek. “Not coming back to your spot behind the counter today, that’s for sure.”

“But-“

“I’m going in. I think this place won’t blow up if I fill in for once. I sure hope I remember the process, though I’m probably not gonna be as efficient as you are.”

You didn’t know what to say. Hell, you didn’t know what to do! But yeah, not coming back to the jungle sounded good, especially given your frantic escape.

“You really would do that?” you asked hesitantly and Ryan just rolled his eyes. “But… Ryan, what the hell do I do?!”

Your bestie gave you a lopsided smile and a wink, patting your cheek patronizingly once more before heading to take over your workplace.

“Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”

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While you were having your own freak-out, Steve was standing at the counter, dumb-struck.

He couldn’t believe it. You had actually said those words. And judging by your reaction to his own, he must have said yours. Which… yeah, congratulation, Rogers, you had given your Universe-chosen dame an amazing note on her skin. To be fair, so had she.

Incredible.

Impossible.

His soulmate was in this century. In this millennia. That was what he got for ever thinking he could escape fate; a slap right in his face.

Because while for several cherished moments, he basked in the light on his soulmate not considering the pairing with him the infamous mistake the words on his skin claimed… he soon learned that it didn’t mean no heartbreak for him.

You had taken an abrupt leave to the back of the office and never came back.

Few minutes later, a man emerged from the door you had disappeared into, taking your seat and without a second look on Steve’s ID, he explained that Steve would have to come here again.

Steve didn’t care for the process of getting his driving licence renewed in the slightest, barely listening. His gaze was at the door to the hall, opened ajar, the door you didn’t return from after learning he was meant to be your partner.

When he had seen you behind the desk, he had considered you a beautiful dame, certain his heart had skipped a beat when your eyes met his. The sight of you was burned into his brain, now forever as a painful memory.

Clearly, you didn’t want him. Not because he was sickly, 95 pounds or 5’7’’ or all bones. Not because your words to him were about a mistake. Not because he was from Brooklyn. No. Honestly, Steve didn’t know why, what could scare you off so soon. He just knew you had escaped at the mere sight of him.

With his mind fuzzy, he walked out of the building into the bright nearly midday sun, blaming the sharp rays for the sting in his eyes. He sighed, running his hand down his face, suddenly bone tired.

“Mr. Rogers?” a shy female voice addressed him, instantly making him turn around to its source.

His lips parted in awe. There you stood, your airy floral dress reaching your knees, played with by the softest breeze. Hesitant smile on your lips. A tiniest spark in your eyes as he subconsciously took two steps to you, just to prove you would still be there if he came closer. You didn’t disappear.

“Y-yes?” he stuttered, actually feeling like the small man he had used to be before the serum.

You quietly introduced yourself, meeting his eyes once more, effectively stopping his heart again. You offered your hand for him to shake and he, feeling like he was dreaming, something else possessing his body, kissed your knuckles as he would have done if meeting you seventy years ago.

The most adorable heat warmed your cheeks at the gesture and you casted your gaze down; but Steve did catch a glimpse of the earlier spark shining brighter before you hid yourself from him

“I… I believe we have a lot to talk about,” you whispered and he instinctively gave your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and shifting a half step closer to you. The corners of his lips unwittingly turned up, something warm building up in his chest as you returned the smile with hesitance.

“Yes, I think we do.”

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Nicolas J. Fury was sitting in his office, waiting for the door to finally open. There was something bugging him – and that something was about 5’7’’ tall, had red hair and was doing whatever it wanted, messing with his business. On top of that, she left him waiting; he had requested her ten minutes ago and she still hadn’t arrived.

He couldn’t help but let his sarcasm show when she came eventually.

“Agent Romanoff. Thank you for coming. Now, care to explain me why did you insist on Rogers getting his driving license renewed in person when we have done it for him already?” he demanded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his desk.

The agent just shrugged. “He needs to meet people.”

“Don’t give me this shit, Natasha! What are you not telling me?”

Slow smirk spread Natasha’s lips, perhaps a bit smug, but she didn’t say a word.

“Romanoff-“

“Alright! Jeez, Nick, you have to work on your patience when it comes to Rogers, I swear…” she teased him. However, at least she started talking. “I might have run his… words through the system Stark provided us.”

Realization dawned to Fury. There was only one system she could be talking about. The soulmate matching one. Insert the words of a person and it would search the database for a possible match; everyone’s words were being put into the database at their birth. It made SHIELD’s work easier in case criminals happened to have a soulmate; the connection was so unique it usually offered a weak spot even for the rotten people.

Nicolas Fury raised his eyebrow expectantly, while Natasha just watched him, amused as she had the upper hand. The man rolled his functioning eye and sighed exasperatedly. Why was he keeping her around again? Oh right, she was his best agent.

“Fine. Did you find a match?”

Natasha snorted. “I didn’t even have to look for a match. There aren’t many women with ‘But I really am 95’ written on their skin,” she explained dryly and Fury just wanted to growl, cursing mentally.

How had no one thought about using the database in the first place?! It had cost them a lot of money, okay? They had it for a reason!

“She clean?” he inquired instead or swearing out loud and Natasha scoffed.

“Like a whistle, not even a speed ticket, which is rather ironic. She’s boring, really – she’ll be perfect for him. Can I go now? I have an ass to kick.”

“…Rogers’?”

“Barton’s, actually. Have a good day, Director,” Natasha spun on her heels and headed to the exit gracefully.

“Hey, I want her file!” Fury complained, already knowing he wasn’t going to receive it from her.

“Find it yourself!” she threw over her shoulder cockily, her red hair swirling with the sudden movement of her head.

The director of SHIELD tried to keep his amusement in check, controlled by the irritation, but he lost. The corners of his lips twitched as the door clicked behind his best spy.

Why did he keep her around again?

He started the search for the words Natasha had said, sinking into his chair comfortably.

Alright, no doubt future Mrs. Rogers. Let’s see how boring you really are.

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Part 2 (originally this was only meant a one-shot)

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Tags: @cxptain @mermaidxatxheart @smilexcaptainx​

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If you wish to be tagged/untagged, let me know - either via an ask or a message :)

Thank you for reading!!

[bokutokoutarou]

@tsukideshima​ asked: Not sure if this is an emergency request but can I have headcanons for tsuki, bokuto and suga with an s/o who has depression and on days it's bad she completely shuts down like barely getting off the bed to eat her meals and tries to sleep the enture day off? Thank you so much, my depressions has just been acting up and quarantine is not helping—

of course this counts as an emergency request! i really hope you feel better soon, and if you ever want to talk then i’m here :)

warning - mentions depression

[a/n] - i’m formatting my posts like this from now on instead of answering asks directly because tumblr’s being mean to me and is inserting a ‘read more’ right after the ask :(

⌜ •   °    +   °   •   ⌝

TSUKKI, BOKUTO, AND SUGA WITH A DEPRESSED S/O

masterlist

☆。*。☆。 Tsukishima Kei

Tsukishima’s no stranger to depressive-like symptoms, so that just makes him even more motivated to make sure that you don’t feel the same way

If you try to sleep in all day, he’ll straight up pick you up with no remorse and carry you out of bed

He may be a bit scrawny, but he can lift you up like it’s nothing

You’ll try to protest and squirm out of his hold, but there’s no way that he’s letting you win because:

“Nice try, [Y/N], but there’s no way you’re sleeping the whole day away on my watch”

If he ever notices that you’re not eating as much or that you’re skipping meals, he’ll go on a whole TANGENT about how your body needs nutrients to live

Once, during one of his rants about how you need to eat to survive, he made an offhand comment about how he wouldn’t know what he’d do without you alive and you both turned BRIGHT RED after what he said processed in your minds

“Kei, did you just say...” you trailed off, completely red in the face and speechless at his words

Tsukishima was completely stunned at what he said, but he didn’t try to take it back or deny it because it was true. He needed you just as much as you needed him

“Yeah, yeah I did,” he told you, and his lips curled upwards into one of his rare smiles that you had fallen in love with

Tsukki’s not very big on hugs or affection, but as awkward as he may be, he won’t hesitate to pull you into a hug if your depression is acting up

During quarantine, he’d try to cheer you up by sending you jokes and memes that are only funny because of how unfunny they are

Also, he’ll send you dinosaur memes because he’s a huge nerd and it’s adorable

Even though he tries to hide it sometimes, there’s no denying that he cares about you so much, and he will do anything to make sure that you’re okay

☆。*。☆。 Bokuto Koutarou

Honestly, if Bokuto’s around then there’s no use in even trying to stay in bed because this boy will find a way to get you up no matter what it takes

It’ll start off with him shaking you lightly and enthusiastically trying to convince you to get a fresh start to the day by waking up early

“RISE AND SHINE, [Y/N]!!!”

Of course, that never works, so then he’ll jump into the bed with you and start tickling you to try to wake you up

“STOP IT KOU,” you always say in between your uncontrollable giggles. “YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE ME PEE”

That method usually works, but one time it didn’t, so he texted Kuroo because he honestly didn’t know what to try next

Kuroo told him that he should play an alarm sound on his phone to straight up ANNOY you awake, and although Kuroo was half-joking, Bokuto actually listened

This boy straight up played the most ANNOYING alarm sound you’ve ever heard until you got so pissed off that you had to get out of bed and shut it off yourself

Kuroo almost pissed himself when you angrily texted him what Bokuto did

If Bokuto notices that you’re eating less because of your depression, then he’ll make you a “special” home-made meal that he thinks you can’t resist

Of course, Bokuto can’t cook for shit (although you’ll never tell him that), but you’ll end up eating the whole thing because you feel bad for him

Somehow Bokuto got the right result with the wrong formula, but hey, at least it worked

Bokuto will give you the BIGGEST hugs to cheer you up, and you can practically feel your serotonin boosting whenever he wraps his arms around you and peppers you with kisses

During quarantine, he’d spam you with the stupidest memes in an attempt to cheer you up, and he’d send you random selfies of him doing dumb stuff throughout the day to try and make you laugh

You always do because he’s so dumb that it’s adorable

Even though Bokuto’s kind of clueless sometimes, he just loves you so damn much and he means the best. He just wants to see you smile, because he can never be truly happy if he knows that you’re not

☆。*。☆。 Sugawara Koushi

Sugawara’s a literal sweetheart, but he’s not a pushover, ESPECIALLY when it comes to your mental health

He likes to brighten your day from the very beginning by bringing you breakfast in bed (as long as you promise to get up right afterwards), and unlike Bokuto, Sugawara can ACTUALLY cook

His meals are god-tier so you can’t even resist eating them even if your appetite decreases because of your depression

He’s literally getting you to eat and motivating you to get out of bed all at once

Suga always makes sure to check in on you and how you’re doing. He’s really understanding, and he always lets you know that he’s there for you no matter what

He’s so calming and therapeutic, so you find it extremely easy to talk to the boy about anything that you’re struggling with

Whenever your depression acts up, he tries to make you feel better by cuddling you and putting on a cheesy rom-com for you two to watch

He calls his cuddles “serotonin cuddles”. It’s literally the cheesiest thing ever and HE KNOWS IT, but that doesn’t stop him from calling them that

As much as you hate to admit it, you always feel so much happier whenever you’re wrapped in his warm embrace

During quarantine, he’d spam you with facetime calls to make sure that you’re doing alright

Also, he’ll make sure that you send pictures of your plate before and after you eat to make sure that you’re eating enough because he’s SUCH a mom

Suga honestly cares about you more than anything in the world, and he’s not afraid to show it

As long as you’re happy, he’s happy, and in his opinion, there’s NO better feeling than the feeling he gets in his chest whenever he sees you smile

[methoxyethane]

Glasses

Lance took in a deep breath, huffing it out in a sigh. He looked around the surprisingly spacious room, his bad eye shut closed so that his better one could pick up the details of the room he and Keith had just walked into.

It was of course, lined with glasses from wall to wall pairs of them set up on display for customers to try on, with enough mirrors that all you’d have to do is turn your head to find a reflection of yourself. 

“There are so many pairs, Keith,” Lance whined, squinting at his surroundings. Shit, he really did need to be here, he’d overworked his one good eye for so long it was starting to blur out on him, too. “How long are we gonna be here just trying them on?”

“I don’t think you have to try on every pair in the store, Lance. For one thing, there’s a lot of children and lady glasses I don’t think you’ll be interested in, just to start.”

“Hnnng,” Lance made a disgruntled noise instead of answering, while Keith rolled his eyes and went up to the appointment counter. 

He was quickly ushered into a small room for a rather tedious eye appointment consisting mostly of looking through that machine with all the different lenses, except Lance’s eyes were two totally different prescriptions on account of of his eyes being mostly okay, and the other being damaged from having been kind of slightly shot in the face a little bit, so it took like, twice as long as it should have.

He was going to have the scar on his temple for the rest of his life, a permanent reminder of the war etched into his face. On the other hand, Keith already had that badass scar on his cheek from that time he fought Shiro’s evil goddamed clone, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. Keith’s looked good on him after all, so maybe Lance’s scar would only make him look. You know. Cooler.

The glasses, though, he decided as he wandered out to the show floor with a new prescription in hand, he wasn’t looking forward to. He was used to being… you know. Handsome. That was kind of who he was, he was the charming one, he was Loverboy Lance for god’s sake. He was allowed to be a little self conscious about how the scar and glasses were gonna affect his whole.. Thing he had going.

At least he still had his boyfriend. Keith loved him, and wouldn’t care if Lance had depressingly permanent fucked up eyesight and a little bit of a scar to remind him of bad times. Keith greeted him now, with what was probably a warm smile but was a little hard to tell when Lance’s eyes were all dilated with eyedrops (and also still needed glasses.)

“Come on, let’s pick out a pair you like.” Keith said, leading him over to a wall of frames near the back. “Anything on this wall is covered by our insurance.”

Lance squinted at the wall, seeing a lot of… really dad and grandpa looking glasses frames, from what he could tell. He frowned. “What if I don’t like what’s on this wall?”

“Then find a pair you DO like and we’ll pay the difference. It’s not a big deal, Lance.” Keith’s voice was warm with affection, even if his face was harder to rad than usual. 

Lance sighed. Tried on a pair of frames from the wall. Squinted contemplatively at his reflection, before putting them back and trying on a different pair. “I can’t…. Even tell the difference. I can’t SEE well enough to pick out glasses, Keith. This is the stupidest catch twenty two of all time.”

It was Keith’s turn to huff, growing audibly exasperated. “You have to at least try, Lance. We can’t leave until you’ve picked out a pair and we put in an order.”

“Well, you better help me, then! Find one that you think would look good on me, you’re the only one that it matters to anyway!”

Keith’s mouth turned down at the corners. “What, like you don’t care how you look anymore?”

Lance gave a frustrated shrug. “I mean like. Not really? I don’t know if you saw the scar, but I’ve gotten a pretty good look at it by now, and it’s not great.”

Keith scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s a nothing of a scar! You’re acting like it takes up half your face, I bet most people won’t even notice it at all once you get a pair of glasses on to cover half of it up.” 

He put another pair of glasses onto Lance’s face for him, giving him a little smile at the result and turning him towards the mirror. “See? You don’t look any less handsome to me. In fact if anything, the glasses make you look more sophisticated.”

Was that a code word for looking older? That he looked old? Because that’s what Lance felt when he put them on. Just… old and tired. “If you say so babe.”

Keith sighed, but didn’t say anything else. Just took the glasses off his face and put them back on the rack on the wall,  a resolute look on his face. “Come on. Let’s look at those wire-frames.”

On Keith’s insistence, they didn’t take too much longer to pick a pair out. Lance couldn’t really tell how he looked in them but Keith had assured him they were definitely the best pair, and Lance had really no other choice than to trust him.

A few days later the optometrist called them back to get his new glasses correctly fitted, and Lance and Keith went back in. Lance had still been feeling apathetic and kind of depressed about the entire situation, but…

That didn’t last long. As soon as he slid on his new glasses and the world was brighter and clearer than it had looked in months and even years, he knew it didn’t matter what the glasses looked like.

They were worth it to be able to clearly see Keith’s beaming smile at him.

“What do you think?” Keith asked excitedly, shoving the mirror into Lance’s face.

Lance was still looking at Keith’s face over the mirror, not even bothering to glance at his reflection. “They’re perfect.”

--

[stardivinefinale-moved]

...ok but pls rant about vld. i want to hear your thoughts

i will try to keep this short and i will most likely miss something because there is just. a lot about this show

ultimately vld was a lot of promises and build up, both in and out of the show which they never ended up delivering on or fucked up horribly. there wasn't even a concrete outline of the plot, they just did things as they went.

one of the best examples for that is the queerbaiting of the show, the actual endgame romances weren't planned out ahead of time so they just kept on promising that specifically klance was gonna happen, and the infamous tweet about how we were gonna meet adam in season 7 which culimanted in nothing and a minute of screentime, half of which was a break up and the other his death respectively.

all of the characters were butchered aswell, shiro got everything thrown at him and ended up as a supporting role in the last two seasons, hunk got demoted from being the token fat person who likes food and has no other personality traits to literally nothing, pidge just became more and more of an unlikeable ass, allura had to sacrifice herself, lance never ended up getting character developement either and keith actually got the character developement he needed but in the worst fucking way possible

actually, let me talk a bit more about keith specifcally because even though lance is objectively the best character in the show keith is my favorite. i just hate everything they did with him, like how he got written out of the show to be with the blade of marmora. and bringing his mom back was THE stupidest decision, i don't even dislike krolia, but keith's storyline with his mommy issues should have been learning that he has a place with the team now and that there are people who actually do love him for who he is. AND THEN THEY DIDN'T EVEN GO THROUGH WITH HIM AND KROLIA BONDING THEY JUST GOT IN A MAGICAL SPACE TIME DISTORTION FIELD AND WHOOPS! TWO YEARS PASSED BY FOR US AND NO ONE ELSE AND WE'RE TOTALLY FINE NOW. THIS IS NOT HOW YOU WRITE A COMPELLING CHARACTER ARC. don't even get me started on how he almost sacrificed himself at the end of season 4 and it never got brought up again. a character almost dying isn't important or anything.

they also fucked lance over so hard, we never ever got to actually see him interacting with his family or any flashbacks except the reunion that lasted for like what? 2 seconds? even though he is the one who missed his family the most. or how his depression never got adressed. or how him ad allura getting together makes no fucking sense at all. IT COULD HAVE WORKED but not with 6 seasons of allura just flat out rejecting him over and over again. or how in the end he was a fucking farmer as if being a pilot wasn't his dream. OR HOW HE DID ACTUALLY DIE FOR A SECOND AND NO ONE SEEMED TO GAVE A SHIT AFTERWARD? he just deserved so much better

the crew also promised so much outside of the show, all of them kept teasing that klance was gonna happen and i remember a live stream where jeremy shada talked about stuff that was gonna happen in the last two seasons and NONE of them did or that godawful picture someone in the crew posted with the characters holding up signs with Race, Gender and LGBT written on them which truly was just a slap in the face. how they handled the backlash after season 7 was also hilariously bad, like the hilariously bad tweet from pidge's voice actor about how Actually it's a story about war so the queerbaiting is actzually not that bad you guys :/

it's also so fucking funny of they accidentally let slip that they did at least the epilogue stuff last minute because one of the animators posted a picture on instagram of him working on specifically shiro's section just a few months/weeks? before the season was supposed to come out even though at that point all the animation should have already been done

fuck everyone who worked on vld except steven yeun and the writer whose name i forgot who among other things wrothe the ICONIC klance stare scene <3

these are in no way ortganized thoughts and as i said i definitely missed stuff but i will stop here for now cause i have a headache

[littlespoonevan]

i think you’ve done one before where ian and mickey run into trevor? but i’d love another one like that. or caleb. or kash. or literally anyone from the earlier seasons (could even be an old school mate who we don’t know!) and who has a shocked reaction that they are still together/married.

anon said:prompt: ian and mickey introducing each other as husbands at a group event scenario

so because i combined two prompts here, have two blasts from the past!! (though idk who’s gonna be happy to see caleb lmao hopefully the 2nd guest makes up for it) i hope u like it!!! :D

*

Mickey loosens his tie as he scans the room, idlywondering when exactly he’ll stop putting himself in uncomfortable socialsituations for Ian’s sake. Then again, Ian walking towards him in his fancyblazer with the top few buttons of his shirt undone and a bottle of beer ineither hand is a very particular fantasy he’s enjoying right now.

“How’re you holding up?” Ian asks, handing one of thebeers off to Mickey and sliding his free arm around Mickey’s waist. It’s prettyfucking ridiculous how quickly it makes Mickey relax but he figures he marriedIan for a reason.

When Ian had first told him about the benefit all theSouth Side emergency services were holding to raise money for a new hospitalwing Mickey had thought it sounded like his own personal version of hell. Buthe’d realised pretty quickly it was also Ian’s personal version of hell so he’dagreed to go.

Now that he’s here he’s gotta admit it’s not so bad.The charming, confident persona Ian used to wear back when he’d drag Mickey toafter-club parties back in the day seems come back to his husband easily enoughwith Ian flashing everyone hundred-watt smiles and schmoozing with thehigher-ups. There have been a few moments where Mickey’s felt uncomfortablestanding next to him but only because of his total lack of understanding aboutall the medical bullshit everyone is spewing rather than him actually feelinglike he’s being excluded from the conversation.

Plus, he can’t help the way he inwardly preens everytime Ian introduces him as his husband.

“’m surviving,” Mickey tells him, leaning into Ian’sside. “This place’s got good beer.”

“Its one saving grace,” Ian jokes, dropping a kiss onMickey’s temple. “Sorry, I know you’re probably bored. Just another hour or twoand we can hit the Alibi.”

The last thing Mickey wants to do is stay out evenlonger when Ian’s standing next to him looking like he does but he hums in acquiescenceanyway. Not like Ian’ll be complaining later on.

“It’s fine, man, I get it,” Mickey says, turning intoIan so they’re facing each other and putting his free hand on Ian’s hip. “You’restill on probation and it’s a fuckin’ miracle your old job even took you back.You need to stay here and act like employee of the month – I know the deal.”

Ian’s beaming at him by the time he’s finishedtalking and Mickey clears his throat, aware his ears are probably turning red.

“You’re the best,” Ian tells him, the words half lostto Mickey’s mouth as he darts in to kiss him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey huffs when he pulls away, tryingnot to act as flustered as he feels. “You can show me how much you appreciateme later.”

Ian’s smile turns devilish and he uses the arm aroundMickey’s waist to draw him in closer. “Oh, I plan to.”

Mickey’s just about to incite a game of chicken whenIan suddenly freezes and Mickey raises his gaze from Ian’s mouth to his eyes.Turning to look over his shoulder he attempts to follow Ian’s gaze but there’stoo many unrecognisable faces around for him to tell who Ian’s looking at.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, squeezing Ian’s hip to gethis attention.

Ian blinks, looking back to Mickey with an expressionthat’s some weird mix of panicked, apologetic and determined. “My ex is overthere.”

Mickey whips around again to look before he remembershe has no clue what Ian’s ex even looks like. “The firefighter?” he guesses.

Ian nods, offering him a tight smile. “Caleb,” hesays. “It’s fine, I don’t think he saw me.”

Which is probably the stupidest fucking thing Iancould’ve said because, of course, five seconds later someone’s calling out adisbelieving, “Ian Gallagher?”

Ian plasters a fake smile on his face and Mickeytakes a moment to pray for patience before he turns around to eye up the guymaking his way towards them. He’s attractive, in that clean-cut all-American way.He looks like the very definition of normal which Mickey knows just translatesto boring in Ian’s brain.

Ian had told him a little about him when they’dtalked shit through in prison. Said he’d been Ian’s attempt at a “normal”relationship that didn’t require all that much emotional effort because he’dpretty much been trying to haul himself out of a depressive episode when they’dmet. He’d also admitted he’d been trying to shove Mickey out of his mind at thetime which had hurt but he gets it, he thinks. God knows, he’d tried to drinkIan away in Mexico. It doesn’t hurt all that much now with Ian’s arm around himand Ian’s ring on his finger.

“Hey Caleb,” Ian greets half-heartedly when Calebreaches them and Mickey takes a drink of his beer to hide his laugh. It’s astark contrast to the enthusiastic friendliness Ian’s been sporting all night.

“How’ve you been?” Caleb asks, all earnestness thatMickey doesn’t trust for a second. “It’s been what? Nearly four years?”

“Yeah, I guess about that,” Ian agrees, voicecompletely neutral. “I’ve been good. I’m-“ he pauses and looks down at Mickeywith a smile that makes his knees weak. “Well, I’m married now,” Ian  says proudly, arm tightening around Mickey. “Thisis my husband, Mickey.”

Caleb’s mouth drops open in shock as his eyes flashto Mickey and Mickey immediately feels himself puffing up his chest. He’s readyfor whatever bullshit this fucker tries to throw at him.

“Wow,” Caleb splutters after a beat. “Congratulations.I- you’re his ex, Mickey, right?”

Mickey clears his throat and rubs at his eyebrow,pointedly using his left hand so he can show off his rings. “Not exactly his exanymore.”

“Right!” Caleb says quickly. “Sorry. You get what Imean, just- you two were broken up before.”

“Yeah, almost the biggest fucking mistake of my life,”Ian cuts in and he’s over-exaggerating a little for Caleb’s sake but Mickey canstill tell he means it. “No way am I letting him go again.” He directs the lastpart to Mickey and Mickey can only hold his gaze for a couple of seconds beforehe has to look away, throat feeling thick with emotion.

Caleb looks at a complete loss for words and Mickeyfeels privately vindicated. Yeah, gocrawl back to whatever hole in the past you came from, he thinksmutinously.

“That’s um- I’m glad you’re so happy,” Caleb says finallyand Mickey’s just narrowing his eyes to try and figure out if he means it whenhe hears another familiar voice calling his name.

“MickeyMilkovich?”

And Christ, Mickey never thought he’d ever be happyto hear a fucking cop calling hisname.

He promptly turns away from Caleb, hearing Ian’sexcuse of, “Sorry, an old friend,” before he turns with him and then they’reboth standing face to face with Tony fucking Markovich.

“Don’t tell me you’re a cop now,” Tony jokes andMickey had not expected him to lookso happy to see him.

“I don’t think they let ex-cons join the force,” hesays, blinking in surprise when Tony only laughs. Huffing an unsure laugh ofhis own, he nods in Ian’s direction. “Nah, I’m only here for Ian.”

“He’s my arm candy,” Ian cuts in, moving his arm fromMickey’s waist to drape it around his neck.

Mickey rolls his eyes but watches Tony carefully forhis reaction.

“Glad to hear you two worked shit out,” Tony says,looking painfully sincere, and since when the fuck did Tony the cop know theywere even together? “I was always rooting for you two.”

“I’ve got him locked down all official now,” Ianboasts, flashing his ring proudly at Tony.

“No way!” Tony exclaims, grin becoming impossiblywider. “That’s amazing, congrats! Let me get you two a beer later, consider ita belated wedding gift.”

Ian barks out a laugh beside him and Mickey is soconfused right now. “Hey, how’s your boyfriend?” Ian asks then. And what thefuck?

“We’re living together now,” Tony admits sheepishlyand before Mickey can stop himself he blurts out, “You’re gay?”

Tony laughs, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, Ian hadthe same reaction when he discovered that little revelation a few years ago.”

“It’s Fiona’s fault,” Ian tells him conspiratoriallyand Mickey finds a laugh bubbling out of him unexpectedly.

“Dan’s around here somewhere,” Tony says, craning hisneck to scan the room. “Hey, how about I find him and we get that drink? I haveto hear the proposal story.”

“You sure?” Mickey scoffs. “It’s a long one.”

“Eh these things are always boring anyway,” Tonyshrugs, gesturing to the banquet hall at large. “It’ll keep me entertained forthe night.”

Ian snorts beside him and waves Tony away. “Go findDan. We’ll meet you at the bar.”

Tony nods before taking his leave and Mickeyimmediately twists to face Ian once he’s gone. “What the fuck just happened?”

Ian barks out a laugh, depositing his beer bottle ona nearby table to wrap both his arms around Mickey. “The cop that you used toterrorise as a teenager just saved you from an awkward encounter with my ex.That’s what happened.”

Mickey shakes his head in disbelief. “I’ve had a lotof fuckin’ weird social interactions when you’ve dragged me to this kinda shitbut that has to be the weirdest.”

Ian laughs again, hugging him close and pressing hislips to Mickey’s forehead. “Just accept the free beer and remember it’sprobably good for us to have a friend who’s a cop.”

“A gayfriend who’s a cop, apparently,” Mickey scoffs, leaning his forehead againstIan’s shoulder a moment later. “Tony better not cheap out on the beer.”

Ian rubs his hand across Mickey’s shoulder blades, breathinghim in. “Pretty sure he’s on better pay than both of us so I think we’re good.”

“Come on,” Ian says then, catching Mickey’s hands anddragging in the direction of the bar. “I’ll buy you a shot of tequila first tocalm you down.”

“I can think of something else that’d calm me down,”Mickey says pointedly, nodding in the direction of the bathroom and raising hiseyebrows.

Ian halts, sizing him up for a moment and Mickeyknows he’s won before Ian even opens his mouth.

“Tony won’t miss us for a couple of minutes, right?”

Mickey grins, triumphant, and begins towing Ian inthe opposite direction.

He could get used to these benefit things.

*

[everythingisgayandnothinghurts]

Tarlos running into Carlos' ex on a night out

Okay so I know TK hasn’t been diagnosed with depression on the show, but that’s my theory.  I’ve had really bad anxiety brain the last few days so I kind of played off of that.  Hope you enjoy!! 

Their last call ran late so TK was late meeting up with Carlos at their favorite bar.  It was crowded as usual and TK glanced around but couldn’t see Carlos quite yet.  He ordered himself mineral water after waiting at the bar longer than usual.  He navigated himself away from the crowd and turned his attention to the back tables where Carlos was likely to be.  Sure enough he spotted his boyfriend at a back corner table, but he wasn’t alone.  There was another man standing close to Carlos, too close to be casual.  TK frowned and told himself there was probably an explanation for this.  An explanation that definitely explained the man’s hand on Carlos’s elbow squeezing gently.  

“Hey,” TK said loud enough to be heard over the crowd and kissed his boyfriend’s cheek in greeting.  Carlos smiled to see him and that helped put him at ease.  The other man didn’t look as thrilled to see him.  TK saw dark brown eyes looking over him with what he could swear was disapproval in them.  He had no idea who this guy was, but he didn’t feel welcome.  

“Hi babe,” Carlos subtly moved from the man’s grasp, but TK didn’t see any guilt in his eyes.  “This is Mark, I’ve known him for years.”

An old friend, TK could deal with old friends.

“We used to be close,” Mark supplied with a smile that was meant to be charming and TK supposed it was white enough and friendly enough but it made him feel off kilter.  “We were in the police academy together for a while.”

“Mark dropped out due to some health concerns,” Carlos explained with a grin to his friend.  “Mark moved down to El Paso after that so we lost touch.  He’s back in town for a long weekend to visit his parents.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” TK told him even though he couldn’t say he truly felt that way.  Something about Mark felt off to him and it took another hour for him to realize what it was.

Mark was an ex.

Neither of them had acknowledged it, but TK could tell by the looks and the casual way they were in each other’s personal space told him they once were used to being there.  It was why he felt so off being around them and like he was the third wheel.  They had inside jokes together and seemed to have endless things to talk about and all of a sudden TK viewed Mark in a different light.  

This guy used to be with Carlos, and it made him feel insecure in a way he wasn’t used to.

Mark seemed perfectly normal.  He was drinking and laughing with Carlos and didn’t have some dark and mysterious past to negotiate with every other minute.  TK had a lot of issues he struggled with each and every day and while he didn’t always tell Carlos about his ongoing battles he knew the other man could tell.  TK would get quiet at random times and go off into his own head.  He couldn’t touch alcohol and relax that way.  He hesitated to take even Tylenol when he was in pain.  He struggled sometimes to laugh and be carefree when Carlos had a night off from work.  Sometimes anxiety would wrap him in a tight blanket and every time he heard sirens he felt bad not being out there to help when he had a night off.  He wasn’t at all like Mark.  He was hard to love and Mark seemed like he would be so, so easy.  Mark’s parents were happily married after what was probably thirty years or more.  Mark didn’t have abandonment issues from not one, but two women walking out of his life before he was eighteen.  

What was Carlos doing with him when he could have a guy like Mark?  

“You seem tired, you wanna go home?” Carlos put a gentle hand on his hip and TK was too exhausted and caught up in his thoughts to even try and pretend he wanted to stay.  Carlos and Mark made plans to meet up for lunch tomorrow as well before Carlos would be back to work the rest of the weekend.  TK bit his lip and tried to be fine with Carlos meeting up with an ex.  He should be fine with it.  Carlos was the most trustworthy guy he could think of.  He had no worries of the man cheating, but he was worried that Carlos might realize he could do so much better than him.  

He went to bed as soon as they got home instead of joining Carlos to watch TV the way he normally did.  He was being stupid and insecure, but his mind wouldn’t let it rest.  Carlos might be happier with someone else and TK was being so selfish to tie Carlos down with him.  He was too damaged to deserve the kind of bright and happy love Carlos brought with him to a relationship.  Tears slipped down his face as the comparisons wouldn’t stop flowing through his thoughts.  He couldn’t bring himself to leave, but it was only a matter of time before Carlos found his way back to Mark, or even a new Mark, and left him behind to deal with his problems alone.  He would lose Carlos because of demons he couldn’t be rid of, and he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get the opportunity to be happy.  

He held his breath as Carlos came into the bedroom and buried half of his face into his pillow to hide his ridiculous tears and tried his best not to sniffle.  Carlos shouldn’t have to deal with his anxiety monster tonight.  He had had a great time with his friend and probably had a nice buzz from the four beers he’d had tonight.  TK had no right to be a buzz kill tonight.  He was a big boy and could deal with his thoughts alone.  

“Carino, I know you aren’t asleep,” Carlos told him as he flicked on a lamp.  A warm hand rubbed his shoulder gently.  “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” TK said, but he knew as soon as the word left his mouth that it wasn’t convincing.  His voice was wobbly with tears and the way he stayed facing the wall was a certain tell that he wasn’t okay.  

“You’ve been quiet all night.  I know something’s up.” Carlos’s voice was gentle and patient, but he wasn’t giving TK an out.  He still wasn’t fully used to someone pursuing him when he was upset, determined to help.  He could tell Carlos, but he didn’t want to ruin his good night because of his stupid anxiety.  “Come let me hold you at least.  I can’t leave you crying and not hold you through it.”

TK couldn’t hold out on that offer and he slowly shifted so that he was cuddled into Carlos’s side snugly.  The other man had an arm around him, rubbing his back gently as he hiccuped his way down from tears that wouldn’t stop falling from something so stupid.  “I’m fine, honestly.  I’m just being stupid.”

“Nothing that makes you cry is stupid,” Carlos murmurs to him with a kiss to his head.  “If you tell me I can help.  At least I can listen if nothing else.  Don’t bottle things up, it isn’t good for you.”

“It’s seriously the stupidest thing,” TK tried to stop crying so he could start to convince Carlos he was fine.  He wasn’t, but he would be when his anxiety calmed down and he got his rational mind back.  “Mark is...your ex isn’t he?”

“With those deduction skills you would have made a good cop,” Carlos sounded surprised he had figured it out.  “Yeah, we dated for a little bit before he moved away and we decided long distance wasn’t our thing.”

“He seems nice,” TK said slowly.  Telling Carlos he seemed normal was a little weird.  “He seems like he has a nice family and stuff.  Very All American Boy and all that.”

“I guess he is kinda vanilla,” Carlos said with a laugh and TK sighed.  

“So, is that your usual type?” TK pressed on, the anxiety fueling his questions by now.

“I don’t know if I really have a type,” Carlos said slowly and pushed him far enough away so he their eyes could meet.  “You didn’t like Mark?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” TK mumbled even though the truth was yes he didn’t like Mark for being neurotypical and wholesome and so damn simple.  “So, you guys had a nice and simple relationship?”

“Are you feeling insecure?  Is that what this is about?” Carlos was always quick to get to the crux of a situation.  He was going to make a hell of a detective one day.  

“I-” TK knew insecure was the word for what he was feeling, but he couldn’t explain that he wasn’t acting like some teenager.  “I don’t get why you’re with me.”  Oh shit, that was much more honest than he meant to be.  “Mark just seems happy and simple and you wouldn’t have to worry so much with him.  I know you worry about me.  I know I’m a lot to handle, too much some would say.”

“That sounds like an Alex thing to say,” Carlos said and TK would never get over the protective growl he got to his tone whenever his ex came up.  “Tyler, you are never too much to handle.  You are always enough for me, no matter what.”

“ “Los I can’t ever drink with you, or half the time I don’t even want to have sex because I”m caught up in stupid shit going on in my own head.  I have really dark days when I don’t want to do anything but stay in bed.  You can’t say I’m a bundle of fun.” TK protested all the thoughts that had haunted him laying in bed in the dark.  

“TK, you have depression,” Carlos said seriously and he took TK’s hands in his own.  “That isn’t going to scare me off.  That isn’t something you can ever control, only learn to live with.  You push through and help people even when your mind is making you feel like you’re in some dark hole.  You go out there and give your all each and every day.  I do worry about you, but I’m also endlessly proud of you.  I never felt with Mark half of what I feel with you.”

TK blushed at the compliments and loved how Carlos effortlessly put the voice in his head to rest.  “I’m sorry.  I just…  I don’t feel like I’m enough for anyone sometimes.”

“I love you,” Carlos replied, with conviction and feeling in his voice.  “You never have to doubt that.  I’ve never been with anybody that could compare to you and compare to what we have.”

“I love you too,” TK melted into Carlos’s arms again and felt the strain of his shift and his whirling thoughts bear down on him.  “Thank you for always being here.  Thank you for always being patient with me.  You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You need to sleep,” Carlos said wisely as he started running a hand through his hair.  “I’m not going anywhere.  I’m here, my love.”

In a matter of minutes TK was asleep, secure in his love once again. 

[galactic-academia]

Prompt 46 for Sherlock please! 💕

I could hide in a hole for being this late… Or I could swear I’ll answer all the requests I got. I chose option two. I hope you will enjoy it

Rating: G

Category: F/M

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/Female Reader

Tags: Fluff & Angst, Young Sherlock, Sherlock Needs A Hug, Declaration Of Love, First Kiss, Happy Ending.

Words: 1200

Notes: I’m not a native, please, forgive my mistakes. Gif is not mine. I hope you will enjoy it

Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines | Sherlock (BBC) Masterlist

It’s not that Sherlock is unable to have feelings, he does. It’s not that Sherlock is insensitive, he just hides his feelings. It’s not that Sherlock didn’t fall for Irene Adler because he’s unable to love. Quite the contrary. He’s already in love, and he’s faithful. “To whom?” Will ask the curious ones while the tattletales will call bullshit and still call him “The Virgin” (thanks to Irene; jealousy doesn’t fit her as you can see). Well, that’s a strange story, also a little sad one, I’m afraid, the kind of even Mycroft doesn’t speak about. It’s not that sad, no, just… See by yourself.

Talking about Mycroft, he may have mess around with his brother’s memories, but he would never be able to tamper theses ones, he wouldn’t have dare to. At secondary school, Sherlock didn’t have any friend. He was too special, too clever, too cold, too scary for it. But not scary enough to hold off the bullies. You know what they say, violence is moron’s language. So, Sherlock learned boxing, if his icy glares weren’t enough, his fist would finish the job. And it’s always interesting to know multiples languages. He was safe, plus or mine. There were always one or the other fools to try and prank him, but they always regretted their foolishness soon. He was lonely, though. And even if he acted like it was exactly what he wanted, he couldn’t lie to himself. Alone wasn’t protecting him, Alone was eating him alive.

If Sherlock had been the kind of person to read romantic novels or to watch silly series on TV, he would have been disgusted to see how much what had happened to him looked like one of their scripts. He was 15 when a new student joined his grade; a girl who looked so clumsy and shy that she was almost painful to look at. She was going to be a prey of choice for all the jerks, that was for sure. Even more since she had openly decided to sit next to Sherlock, while smiling to him, in addition. The inevitable happened, the second the teacher left the classroom, the biggest, the stupidest guy in their grade got up and went straight for the newest student.

If you asked to Sherlock why he became a detective (while he has a chemistry degree), several answers could be offered to you: he may say this was all about his addiction to the mystery if he was half honest, or because of his inability to not find the right answer if he felt smug, maybe because he had to do something with his life if he felt depressed, or you wouldn’t have any answer at all, it would be most likely. Sherlock would never answer it was because defending the weaker ones than himself had changed his life when he was 15.

The moment the bully stretched his hand out to grope at the new student’s hair, Sherlock sent him flying trough the classroom. He didn’t know, at this very moment, why he had felt the urge to protect the girl, but it was too late. It was done. And he was also done, since the bully’s friends were ready to beat him. What a surprise it had been when the young girl – Y/N he would learn soon – caught the nearest moron to, first, return his wrist and, then, send her knee right in his sensitive areas.

“I’ll also break the nose of the next who moves.”

This had had Sherlock agape; even more when Y/N had returned to her seat, blushing madly under his gaze. The shy girl had been back as suddenly as the tigress had been out. And he had known. As stupid as it can seem, he had known she would be the one. Sure, he had done his best to not acknowledge these frightening feelings, to not think about her, dream about her, to not write ballad for her – erk! How disgusting! – to not let his hand crept closer to hers while they were having lunch together, to not shift awkwardly when she had her head on his lap, helping him rehearsing for a test, to not just kiss her whenever she was close enough, all the time…

By the time he was 17, he had stopped to resist. He was ready. He had learnt how to dance, he was going to ask her to be his partner to the night prom and, by the end of the night, he was going to ask her out. He was ready. What he hadn’t be ready for was her telling him light-heartedly that she was going to be the partner of the very idiot who tried to ill-treat her three years ago. He even hadn’t had the chance to try. And he wasn’t ready to see her dancing in his arm, he wasn’t ready to have his heart broken. Maybe loneliness wasn’t this bad, after all.

See, that’s such a stupid story. Just a disappointing young love. But it had been so, so painful… it couldn’t happen again. Never. So, Sherlock built thick walls around him and armed himself with sarcasm and coldness. His heart became unreachable, Alone was protecting him, again. Eating him up alive. Again.

But Sherlock never stops thinking, especially about her. She still plagues his thoughts, his dreams. His regrets. If he only had been braver, if he hadn’t given up this easily, maybe… Maybe… Maybe he wouldn’t be alone on John and Mary’s wedding, maybe he wouldn’t fell this awkward about love and feelings, maybe he wouldn’t be so sad to see what he has missed. Oh, no, he isn’t jealous, quite the opposite, despite everything he shows, he’s always happy to see the people who counts for him being full of joy.

People may think he’s leaving the wedding early because he’s jealous or sad or whatever they want, Sherlock doesn’t care. He’s just ready again, ready to be brave, ready to be honest. Did he ever pronounce Y/N’s name after the prom night? No, never. Did he act like he forgot her, like he didn’t give a shit anymore? Yes, he does. Was it total bullshit? Absolutely. Sherlock had always kept an eye on her from afar, he knew where she went at University, what was her job, her address. The cab driver too, now.

He’s cold and afraid, but there’s light inside, both Y/N’s house and Sherlock’s heart. And there’s a cheer “Coming!” when he rings the bell. And disbelief on Y/N’s face when she opens the door.

“Sherlock?”

“Hum… What if I tell you I’ve been in love with you since we were kids?”

The first answer he gets is an angry and hungry kiss. Y/N is holding him by his collar as to prevent him to fly away. This is probably exactly why she’s holding him this way. Sherlock’s almost sure. When they finally break the kiss, Y/N is smiling at him, both shyly and daringly, as she was challenging him to complain.

“I’ve been waiting for 15 years to hear that, sorry to not want to wait one more minute.”

***

Thanks for reading

[mythologyfolklore]

Trusting the enemy - Pt. 02

Baldr – Forgiveness

(A/N: Set the night before Baldr’s death. He has a conversation with Loki, fully aware that he’s talking to his murderer. It doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it should.)

Baldr isn't capable of hatred.

Not of loathing or disgust.

Not even of spite or malice.

He is, however, capable of anger and revulsion.

Even though his anger never lasts long, it's still there. He never shows it; there is no point. Besides, he doesn't want to hurt anyone by lashing out in any way.

Someone has to be the better person and who, if not him?

So he chooses to be the role model, the paragon of virtue, the one who brightens up everyone's day. It's actually quite easy; he is just that kind of person. Being kind to others brings him joy. His friendliness and compassion are genuine. His cheerfulness is not. But why?

Baldr is lucky, oh so lucky.

He has beauty, wisdom and grace. He has the biggest ship and the fairest, holiest hall in Asgard. He has everyone's love and admiration. He has a lovely wife and a wonderful son.

So why, why the Niflheimr is he not happy?!

His smile is brighter than the sun, but it only serves to please others and hide his melancholy.

Everyone thinks him happy, but he isn't and only four people in Asgard know this.

Óðinn knows, because of course he does.

Baldr doesn't talk to his father about his depression, but the Allfather knows anyway. And maybe, just maybe, the light god is grateful, that his father doesn't judge him for it or bring it up.

Höðr knows too.

He knows Baldr better than anyone, even though his eyes cannot see. His shadow is like a blanket of comfort, his coolness is soothing. The god of darkness and winter expects nothing from him.

Heimdallr knows, because nothing escapes him.

Baldr values the Guardian's understanding and sympathetic nature, so similar to his own. What he values even more is that he doesn't participate, when the other gods throw stuff at him.

The last person who knows is definitely the most problematic one: Loki.

Baldr wishes, that the red-haired trickster would like him at least a little bit – after all, they are by oath uncle and nephew. That will never be, though: Loki wants him dead and will indeed be the one to bring on his imminent demise.

Baldr doesn't even know why Loki hates him so much (it's not like the older god has ever told him, what his problem is; he always scoffs and turns away, when Baldr tries to talk to him). He only knows, that he will die at the other's hands. And he knows exactly how, too – his prophetic nightmares are very vivid.

Maybe he should hate Loki for being his future murderer.

But he doesn't.

He is still angry at him, though.

You can't frame Höðr for murder and expect the prospective murder victim not to be angry!

.

Loki hates everything about Baldr.

Everything.

He hates, that the blondie is Óðinn's son.

He hates, that the young god is so pretty, graceful, wise and sweet.

He hates, that everyone loves that goody-two-shoes and fusses about him, when he shows the slightest hint of distress. Frigg has made literally everything in all nine worlds swear, that it wouldn't harm her “precious baby boy”! Well, almost everything – a twig of mistletoe was too young to sign legally binding contracts, she said. But still!

It makes him sick, so sick. Seeing Baldr makes his blood boil. Hearing his voice makes him want to retch and when he has to make body contact for whatever reason, his flesh crawls beneath his skin.

Dwarves don't loathe the sun as much as Loki loathes Baldr.

One of the reasons is, of course, envy.

No surprise there, the trickster knows his own nature. Of course he wouldn't say that out loud, but he's quite sure, that most people already know.

But they don't know, just how envious he is.

Loki is the one, who does all the shit work for the Aesir! Not Baldr! Yet he gets all the praise and love, even though all he does is being a hippie and making decisions that can't be undone! So why does Sunny Boy get all the love and positive attention?! That's so unfair, it's physically painful!

But that's not the only reason for his envy.

Óðinn is nothing, if not a loving father, Loki knows this. The Allfather loves all of his many children equally, although he has the stupidest way of showing it.

But he doesn't love all of Loki's children.

Once upon a time, Loki and Óðinn mixed their blood and vowed brotherhood, swearing to treat the other's children as their own. But apparently that doesn't go for Fenrir, Jörmungandr and Hel. The trickster knows, that the triplets are dangerous, but that's no excuse for their treatment!

There has been a time, when the trickster loved Baldr and Höðr like they were his own. But that was before his own children were banished. The twins know nothing; they were toddlers back then. And if the Æsir refuse to tell them about it, why should he?

It doesn't matter anyhow.

Loki will do anything to send them to Hel. And it will be the greatest satisfaction to see the horror on the Æsir's faces and hurt Óðinn and Frigg in the worst way possible.

.

Baldr is sitting on the roof of his house and judging by the position of the moon, it's almost midnight.

It's wonderfully quiet, when everyone is asleep. It relaxes him, when he is shaken from a nightmare.

Normally, he would go and cry on his brother's shoulder, but he doesn't want to wake him.

So sitting on his roof and watching the moon and stars is the second option.

He feels a presence behind him and smiles lopsidedly: “Why am I not surprised, that you got through the barrier on my house?”

A slightly higher, more feminine voice retorts: “Maybe it's because there is nothing I cannot do? And what about you? Why am I not surprised, that you're doing something as dangerous as sitting on a roof, instead of lying with your wife?”

Baldr laughs softly and finally turns around: “What is this I see? Loki actually seeking my company and talking to me? What a sensation!”

Loki snorts: “And what is this I hear? Irony from the mouth of the paragon of perfection? Never thought I would live to see that moment!”

The blond rolls his eyes: “We both know, that I will never be perfect, no matter how hard I try. But seriously; how did you get in? The force field around my property is supposed to keep out everyone with malicious or improper intent.”

The redhead smirks: “Please, I know what spells Frigg used to put the barrier up. And for every spell in the world, there is a counter spell to match.”

“Huh. Figures.”

It's only now that Baldr notices, that Loki is floating in mid-air – he must be wearing his air-walking shoes.

“Mind if I sit with you?”, the trickster asks.

“You already invaded my property and didn't ask my permission.”

“Good point.”

Baldr moves over and allows Loki to sit next to him.

He can't decide, if he's happy, that his “uncle” is actually initiating a conversation for once, or if he's suspicious as to why.

Loki sees no point in dispelling the other's suspicions.

“What are you doing up here in the middle of the night?”, he questions. “Couldn't deal with your nightmares again?”

“That and I wanted to see the night sky one last time, before I die.”

“So you know.”

“You already knew, that I know.”

The fire giant frowns. “You're oddly casual about it. After all that fuss about your nightmares.”

He receives a frown in return.

“Uncle, there is a difference between knowing that you're going to die no matter what, and suffering from perpetual sleep-deprivation.”

“Yes, I suppose there is.”

They fall back into silence for a while.

Baldr is the first to speak again: “So, what gives me the honour of you finally talking to me, uncle? You have never done that before.”

Loki shrugs: “I'll be honest for once; I don't know.”

Another moment of awkward silence.

Finally, the Bright One notes: “The stars are very beautiful tonight.”

Loki chuckles: “Yes, but that's nothing special to me. If I want to see the stars, I just need to look at my wife. She has the night sky in her hair.”

Sigyn, Baldr's starry-haired half-sister.

Baldr doesn't like how shrewish and abrasive she is, but she is also the most reliable, selfless person he knows.

It's a matter of fact, that Loki is a terrible husband; often absent, treacherous, a liar and definitely a pervert. But no matter how much his wife gives him hell for his nonsense, he can count on her unwavering strength and loyalty, for better or worse. Baldr wishes his own wife was half that loyal (as if he didn't know about her tryst with his brother Hermóðr), then again he has done nothing to earn her loyalty either.

He is about to ask, if the shapeshifter loves Sigyn, but then Loki continues: “In fact, dare I say, that the night sky in all its splendour could never measure up to Sigyn's hair.”

Baldr smiles; that's all the answer he needs. “So you do love her.”

The trickster chuckles.

He will never be able to tell his wife these words, but it's a truth everyone is aware of. When and why his tomboyish wife decided, that he is worth travelling all nine worlds for, is beyond him. But it is so. The ornament around his neck too severely proves it.

Of course Baldr has noticed the necklace Loki is wearing.

“I like your necklace”, he tells the older god. And immediately wishes he didn't: Loki's smile disappears and is replaced by a scowl.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” The fire giant's voice is cold.

“It really is. There is just something about it, that makes it better than Brisingamen.”

That seems to mollify the older god.

“You're damn right. It's the best one in all nine worlds. I wouldn't give it up for anything.”

“May I hold it? Just for a moment?”

Loki's eyes narrow. But then he relents and takes it off. “If I didn't know, that your hands are so careful, I wouldn't agree to this. Consider this the last and only favour I will ever do to you.”

Baldr beams at him and takes it gingerly. To him this is more than just a favour.

The necklace lies comfortably in his glowing hand.

Now that he sees it up close and touches it with his own fingers, he can tell, what makes it so beautiful: it's self-made. Only the gold bordering is dwarf's work. This piece of jewellery has a personality, which Brisingamen lacks. Each component has a story, he can feel it.

“Do you want to know, what it is?”

It's not a question.

“I'm all ears”, Baldr agrees. If Loki wants to tell him the story, who is he to refuse?

So Loki begins to explain: “This necklace was a gift from Sigyn … and from my children.”

“Not Nari and Narfi, I assume?”

“No. Not them.”

Loki sighs heavily and Baldr marvels; he has never heard the older god sigh before.

Then he elaborates: “The carved tooth is from my eldest son Fenrir. The bordered green scale comes from my second son Jörmungandr. And the curl of black and blonde hair belongs to my daughter Hel. The golden chain is from my wife. And she is the one, who made this.”

Oh.

Baldr feels not just a little uncomfortable, as he gives the necklace back to Loki, who immediately puts it back onto his neck, where it belongs.

“I didn't know they're your children”, the Bright One whispers.

“Of course you didn't!”, the trickster spits scornfully. “Your family talks about bravery in battle, but they would never gather up the spine to tell you about all the crap they've pulled!”

Loki can tell, that Baldr wants to ask what he means, but fears to anger him even more.

“Why don't you ask my daughter dear?”, he hisses, “After all, you will join her soon! I'm sure, she will be delighted to tell you, what happened back then!”

“By soon you mean tomorrow, I assume?”

That question is so sudden, that the fire giant forgets his anger.

“Yes and no”, he explains, “Travelling down there takes a while. And you won't be able to without the funeral rites. She told me so, last time I spoke to her. And that she has already prepared everything for your arrival.”

Charming.

“I'm honoured”, Baldr replies and Loki is surprised by how genuine that sentence is.

“I seriously don't understand how you're so calm about it. How are you so cavalier about the fact, that I am going to murder you tomorrow?”

“Today”, Baldr corrects and points at the clock tower near his father's hall Valhalla. It's almost 1am now. “And it's rather bold of you to assume, that I'm not angry.”

“I didn't say that. But do you not hate me? Knowing that I will be the one to send you to my daughter's realm?”

The blond shakes his head. “No. I do not hate you. I'm not even angry, because you want to kill me. It's something else, that ticks me off.”

“Oh? Do enlighten me!”

So he does: “What makes me angry is that you want to pull my twin into this. I'm not afraid to die – not even averse to it. And if you don't want to tell me, why you hate me so much, fine. But tricking Höðr into killing me, knowing that it will break him, that he will have to live with the guilt, until my father spawns another child, specifically to kill him? For that I would hit you.” A wry smile. “But I have never done such a thing before, so I'd probably punch like a little girl.”

Loki cackles: “Oh my! Looks like Asgard's golden boy has something in him after all!”

“Whatever you say, uncle.”

The cackling stops abruptly. “Don't call me that.”

The younger god smiles apologetically.

The red-haired trickster glares at him.

“Norns, how I hate, when you make that face! Actually, I hate everything about you.”

Oh my dad, here it comes, Baldr thinks and readies himself for a torrent of hatred.

Of course he could ask the redhead to just tell him that he hates him and be done with it. But he knows that Loki needs to get this off his chest, so he will listen.

“I despise you, boy”, the fire giant snarls.

“My contempt for you is beyond words. If I could, I would set you on fire, watch you die a slow and agonising death and I would laugh. I hate your pretty face. Hearing your voice makes me want to retch. Everyone adores you, but what exactly have you done to earn it? What gave them the idea, that you're perfect?! You! Don't make me laugh! We both know the truth, don't we? Pathetic, that's what you are! You call yourself a pacifist, but in truth you're just a coward, who pats himself on the back. Why your verdicts are final is a mystery to me – no matter how wise you are, even you can be wrong sometimes – and boy, can that ever be fatal! I have given the Æsir far more than you ever have! I tricked the dwarves into forging the greatest treasures for you! When have I ever got so much as a thanks from them?! And you! You just say a single word and all eyes are on you! When a giant threatens Asgard, it's either Freyja or you they want, because you're oh so fucking pretty! What everyone perceives as perfection is just a facade! You can't even deal with your nightmares – seriously, it's always the same one, shouldn't you be used to it by now? And your family life! My roller coaster of a marriage with Sigyn is more functional than you and Nanna! The only thing that keeps you two together is your son and your fear of scandal! The way you always act so cheerful makes me sick! You're more depressed than your mother is, but at least she has the excuse of knowing the future! And you still pretend, that everything is sunshine and rainbows and it pisses me off! How is it, that I am the liar here, when you are the one who's so fake, it hurts?! I can't wait to kill you! They will bawl their eyes out over your corpse and I will stand there and smile upon your body, that's how satisfying it will be! Ooohhh, how I hate you!!!”

Wow.

Baldr never thought, that it's possible to spew so much hatred and envy at once. Then again, there is nothing Loki isn't capable of.

He needs a while to let that sink in, before he responds.

“… I'm impressed. You certainly took me for a ride here.”

“Did I now”, Loki growls.

“Yes.”

“And? What are you going to say about it?”

“Just this: now that you got it off your chest, will you listen to what I have to say?”

The older god sighs: “I suppose I must – it's only fair.”

Baldr takes a deep breath, then he begins to talk: “I'm sad, that you hate me. You probably already know, just wanted to clear that up. And you are right about two things: my happiness is faked and my marriage is a catastrophe. But let me tell you this – the rest of me is not. If I want to please everyone, it's because their joy delights me. I don't help people, because it's my duty, or because I want praise, I do it, because I enjoy it. I love making others happy. If my own happiness is the price, then so be it. You on the other hand, oh man! Do you ever do something good of your own volition, just for someone else's sake? Something that doesn't involve you causing trouble beforehand? You only got those treasures for us, after you decided that cutting off Sif's hair would be funny. Branding a woman as an adulterer is not funny, Loki.”

“She is, though”, the fire giant mutters. “And guess with whom.”

“Do spare me, I beg you. Besides, it's rather hypocritical of you to lecture me about my marriage. I can't blame Nanna for having an affair, because the Norns know, I'm not remotely close to being the loving husband I should be. By Mimir's head, I can count on one hand, how often I have even slept with her, so of course she would look elsewhere for what I cannot give. But Sigyn can certainly blame you! You must have slept with more people, than you have freckles! You must be – pardon my language – the biggest man-slut in Asgard! Then you're almost never home! No wonder Sigyn is mad at you 24/7! She may be a spitfire, but she's my big sister and she deserves better! Do you have the faintest idea how lucky you are, to be married to the strongest, most loyal woman in all nine worlds?! A woman's loyalty must be earned, but you wouldn't know loyalty, if it slapped you in the face – which I know it does, because she's not some push-over housewife you can treat however you want!”

He takes a deep breath to compose himself.

Loki is gawking at him, which makes him feel incredibly awkward. This has gone too far, really. He didn't mean to talk himself into a rage like that. In his defence though, he just got a hate speech from his uncle/prospective murderer and he really, really needs a nap.

“Do forgive me”, he apologises, “I didn't mean to lash out at you.”

“Are you kidding?!”, the trickster exclaims and bursts into laughter. “You're so much better, when you drop your stupid mask! I didn't think you had it in you!”

Baldr chuckles: “It's easy to drop the masquerade, when you're a dead man. And there is a certain beauty in letting you see it. Do you know why?”

“Because it's easy to be honest to the one, who will kill you. There is no need to keep up a facade in front of your future murderer.”

Baldr smiles and nods. He is glad, that his uncle understands.

“I'm truly sorry, that you hate me”, he tells him softly. “I really wish we could get along.”

The other compresses his scarred lips into a thin line.

“Not a chance, Baldr Óðinnsón. I hate you and you must and will die.”

“I know.”

Loki hates, how world-weary, how okay with dying this young man is.

And he hates even more, that he hates it. Because it makes him aware of something, that terrifies him. It's so terrifying, that his hands begin to tremble in his lap.

He quickly digs his fingers into his trousers to hide it, but the blondie has already noticed and is looking at him with concern.

“Don't you dare pity me!”, he hisses venomously.

“I'm not pitying you”, Baldr tells him gently. “I'm feeling compassionate. Don't confuse pity with compassion.”

“I don't want either!”

“I know, I know. But I can't help it. I told you, I do not hate you like you hate me.”

Loki really wants to wipe that disgusting, sweet smile off the boy's face.

“I'm glad, that it's you, uncle.”

“I told you no- wait, what?!”

Baldr tries not to laugh at the trickster's flabbergasted expression.

“Did I shock you? Sorry, I mean to say … I'm glad that you're the one to send me to Hel, because …  well, you hate me and you won't feel guilty for killing me. I hate when people feel guilty, because of me. Stupid logic, I know. But I wouldn't want it to be anyone else. That's one of the reasons, why it angers me so, that you want to instrumentalise my brother. If it was just you, I could easily forgive you-”

“I don't want your fucking-”

“Let me finish! If it was just you, I could easily forgive you. Because I'm currently so resigned to my fate, that I don't even care anymore. I just want it all to end. In a way, you're doing me a favour.”

“… You're insane.”

Baldr snorts: “No, that would be you. I'm just depressed and world-worn. Also very much sleep-deprived. And it's 2am, so I haven't had my morning coffee either.”

“You're definitely insane”, Loki insists.

“Probably”, the other gives in. “Not that it matters now.”

He still has a few questions though.

“What are you doing up anyway?”

“I have nightmares too, boy. But unlike you, I don't whine to everyone about it.” A huff. “Then again, the only one who cares is Sigyn.”

“I do too.”

“That's because you're a goody-two-shoes. You would care, if a rock had nightmares.”

“Well, you're a bipedal fire, so close enough.”

“Well, you're a bipedal firefly.”

The Bright One chortles. That's certainly a funny way to describe the way he glows!

Then, as he turns his gaze back to the stars, he remembers another thing he always wanted to know.

“Loki?”

“Hm?”

“Where do the stars come from?”

“Ah, I remember that. Your father and his brothers made most of them. They used to be sparks from the flames of Múspellheimr, where I come from. But some of them are my creation.”

He points up to a particularly bright star.

“See that one? I'm the one who made it, it burns through me. It used to be called Lokabrenna, but the humans call it Sirius now.”

Baldr beams at him in delight, because Sirius just so happens to be one of his favourite stars.

Loki's grin turns into a bittersweet smile. “You should have seen your father back then. What a man! I couldn't help but like him immediately. The way we were back then … we had so much in common!”

The younger god can feel the sadness and nostalgia radiating from the older. He doesn't find it hard to believe him; even today, Óðinn sometimes still has a roguish twinkle and laughter in his grey eye, though it becomes rarer and rarer to see. It's no wonder Loki was hooked, when the two were younger.

He sighs: “You know, his smile back then looked just like yours. It was full of warmth and integrity. You and your brother got that from him.”

That sentence takes the god of light by surprise; he always thought, that he got it from his mother.

But he has no time to ponder on it, because Loki shocks him by starting to cry.

“Shit”, the trickster mutters and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “I promised myself to never shed a tear over this! And in front of you too!”

Baldr fishes a paper tissue out of his pocket and hands it to him. Of course he doesn't get a thank you, but Loki is the last person he'd expect one from anyway.

“Fuck you! Your twin and your father too!”, the redhead rasps randomly.

At this point it sounds rather forced, but Baldr doesn't voice that.

“I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Loki freezes, when the younger god embraces him. Once he realises what is going on, he is tempted to push the blond off the roof and test, if gravity has also sworn an oath, but he doesn't. Instead he allows himself to weep – silently; he refuses to be a bawling, snivelling mess. He feels the other's left hand pat his upper back in comfort.

The awareness from earlier returns full force and the trickster hates it with all his might.

Most of the gods aren't aware of it, but he's actually just a little older than Óðinn (a few decades, maybe). He knows the Æsir so well. He can count on one hand how many of the Allfather's children he hasn't known since their childhood.

He was there, when the twins were born, even got to hold them in his arms. Back then he loved them. That time is long gone now and he hates them both, he hates almost all of Óðinn's children at this point.

“I hate you! Go to fucking Helheim!”

“I know and I will”, Baldr responds way too gently. “Also, love you too, uncle.”

“How dare you-”

“Shhhhh.”

It takes a while for Loki to calm down. When he eventually does, he winds himself out of Baldr's hug and clears his throat.

“Alright, this is enough. More of this sap and I'll puke.”

Baldr knows, when it's better to shut up.

They fall back into silence, but it's more comfortable this time.

It's already past 3am, when he speaks up: “One last question.”

Loki groans and rolls his eyes, but consents.

“Will your daughter be kind?”

Or will she take whatever grudge she has out on me? - the trickster can hear the untold part of the question in the boy's voice.

He thinks for a moment.

If he knows his daughter at all, she won't take her grudges on Óðinn out on Baldr. She could and would be in the right, if she did. But she wouldn't. Hel is bigger than that – besides Baldr is the purest being in Asgard (as much as Loki loathes to admit it). And Hel really likes cute, beautiful things (she got that from her mother, he remembers).

Of course he could tell Baldr, that she would make his afterlife Náströnd, but for some reason he chooses to be honest.

“Well, unlike the rest of Asgard, you and your brother don't actually have a skeleton in your closet, so you have nothing to fear. She is a just goddess. You will be in good hands with her. In fact, dare I say that, if you can look past her appearance, you will even like her.”

Baldr feels significantly more at ease hearing these words.

Enough at ease, that he chortles, when Loki adds: “Just don't mention the Christians. Or horses; the only horse she likes is Sleipnir.”

“Noted.”

All of the sudden Baldr yawns – once again overwhelmed by a wave of fatigue, that reminds him of his sleep-deprivation.

“My soul for good sleep!”, he jokes.

Loki smirks at him: “That can be arranged – I'm sure your soul is valuable enough to service as appropriate payment.”

The god of light bursts into laughter.

Once he settles down, he smiles at the redhead. “I haven't laughed this much in years. Thank you, uncle.”

Loki doesn't chide him this time.

Instead, and much to his surprise, he rolls his eyes and huffs: “Sleep, boy. I'll see to it, that your last nap in Heaven will be peaceful.”

It takes Baldr a second to realise, that the fire giant is inviting him to rest his head on his shoulder.

He wants to say no and tell the older to go to sleep of his own, instead of spending the rest of the night on this roof with him. But he is just so incredibly tired, that he allows himself to be selfish for once in his life.

The trickster's scorching temperature seeps through the fire-proof clothing and somehow it makes the Bright One feel like he's wrapped in a warm blanket. He's asleep within seconds.

Loki notices how the younger man's body relaxes and slumps against his right side. And of course he has also noticed, how the other's glow intensified, when he laughed genuinely.

He sighs, wraps an arm around the other's shoulder and glares down at the shock of platinum blond hair.

I hate you and your children, Óðinn. But what I hate even more, is that I love them as well.

.

---

.

“Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names.”

[evswiftie]

Relating a lot of taylors Elle essay to my life.

Growing up, I was the kid who was desperate for friends. I remember offering my neighbor to help with her chores just to hangout with her (I literally helped pick up dog shit in her back yard). As a child living in a small beach town in Washington I had a couple friends I played with, then my family moved to Northern California. Even there, friends were hard to make and I was bullied for the stupidest things like not waxing off my facial hair (uh I was 9 lol). I moved schools a few times and was always in the wrong place at the wrong time, getting blamed for things I didn’t do. When we moved back to Washington, I finally started to establish relationships that I wanted to last more then a couple months, but that’s also the time where I learned that people hate confrontation and don’t want to clarify things. When I’d try to voice a concern, they’d just leave me or twist my words. So I went half my life feeling misunderstood and walked over. In my early years of college, I had horrible depression and pushed away people who weren’t there for me and clinged into those who were, despite only knowing them a short while. A lot has changed since then. Now I’m the girl who knows what I deserve and am learning to let friends go when it means getting the drama and negativity out. I’m almost 24 and learning to let go of people when they aren’t good for me anymore. I’ve learned that sometimes the people in your life that are silently toxic are even worst then those who are loud. They take up so much more time and energy running around on eggshells. I’ve learned that there’s some people who create this image of you or their own version of the argument and no matter how hard you persuade them to hear you out there’s just some people who won’t budge. I believe it shows you more about who that person is. ending a friendship can hurt just like a romantic relationship; it’s so hard for me to detach the memories of being with someone to be able to set myself free. But I’ve learned that everyone who comes into my life is for a reason, so in the end I wouldn’t regret anyone I’ve met because it’s apart of what’s made me, me. Taylor if you’re seeing this thank you so much for talking about the subject of friendships and how to let the drama go, to know that we deserve people who know how to apologize for hurting me and that we deserve people who know how to be there for us. I’ve dealt with people who refuse to acknowledge they’ve hurt me, who can even be there for me by letting me know they care enough to say they’re sorry and I know in my past at some point I struggled with knowing how to apologize too. Five years ago I hated admitting I messed up but today “you’re right” is one of my favorite phrases. I recognize that I’m not always right and I so appreciate people who want to have a civil conversation. It sucks that almost every single time, in my current life I want to bring up confrontation I’m so fearful of people just saying they want to leave me but I also know that I value quality over quantity and if people can’t even bet there for me then I don’t need them and I need the kind of friends in my life that can be. From 18–22 you meet a lot of temporary people and by 23 you learn how to recognize all the red flags of a toxic person and by 24 you learn how to stand your ground. Taylor It feels good to hear advice from you and reminders, it feels good I’m not alone and that we have these kind of things in common. Thanks to you Taylor I’ve found some of the most valuable friendships I’ve ever known in my life because of our common love for you, we scream of excitement together over your music and we cry when the others hurting and it’s exactly what I need. Thank you for the songs breathe and bad blood.

[wtfzodiacsigns]

Same Signs: Marriage or Murder

Capricorn:

Marriage: You’re the perfect couple. The Prom King and Queen. Super ambitious couple, competitive, probably insta-famous. You really are the sign that can have it all and juggle it all. White picket fence amazingness.

Murder: Y’all can be some inconsiderate motherfuckers. If it doesn’t benefit you, you don’t want it. This can work the same for your partner. Both of you could neglect the relationship and assume it will hold. It won’t. Also, finance struggles are fucking HARD on Caps cause you are all about materials and having the best in life (however you define that).

Aquarius:

Marriage: I’m biased. We’re fucking fantastic. As a couple, you’re the weirdos at a party. You have adorable inside jokes and can go in depth about topics that literally NO ONE cares about. You’re goofballs, and can be ultimately authentic with one another. We also make phenomenal parents because we encourage originality.

Murder: Two things can sink an Aqua/Aqua coupling… our innate need to be one of a kind, and our extreme want of freedom. Aquarians LOVE being different. We thrive there. So if someone tries to top us, or be more original/steal our thunder- MOVE. GET OUT OF THE WAY. Aquarian wrath is rare and therefore strong af. Also if you want to take too much time away from each other, you could experience the severe isolation that only Aquas can feel.

Pisces:

Marriage: Pisces are dreamy and empathetic, so this is a vvvvvvv soft relationship. They can see beauty in such small things. Like, leaving tiny romantic notes around the house, reading Pride and Prejudice aloud to each other, lots of cuddling and soft blankets and clean smells. This couple 100% owns those ‘linen’ scented candles.

Murder: Pisces can be super self-destructive and pity seeking and clingy. They know good things when they see them, but they oftentimes have the mentality of ‘I don’t deserve this’ or ‘I don’t deserve better’ which is why they can find themselves exiting good situations or settling for mediocre situations when they could do better if they just tried. If things were bad, this would be the most depressing couple to be around cause odds are they’d stay together even if they were both fucking miserable because Pisces oftentimes can’t handle being alone.

Aries:

Marriage: This would be a fun af couple. They’re all about doing stuff… no sitting at home for these folks. They’re at wine tastings or a basketball game or a fucking drag show. If something is happening- they are THERE. The intellectual convos between the two will be top notch, and since Aries are proud and determined and strong, this couple could literally take on the world. They’re huge show offs if their significant other does something great. Expect lots of annoying #wcw #mcm posts that are actually hella genuine and pure. In my experience, they also have the best sense of humour, so laughter is gonna be guaranteed with a good Aries couple.

Murder: Don’t fuck over an Aries. Fucking don’t do it ever. Aries know the exact thing you hate most about yourself or a situation, and they will point it out in a fight. So Aries Vs. Aries? Cue the flames. This sign runs hot but is also surprisingly sensitive, and if you hurt them deeply, there isn’t forgiveness. SO this the perfect example of a sign that can find a fault, pin it down, and make their other Aries BLEED. It’s brutal. Also, for being so determined, they can be huge procrastinators, and if their priorites aren’t the same, this could spell murder for Aries.

Taurus:

Marriage: This couple has everything… and they definitely got it on sale. Taurus are really materialistic, but unlike Capricorns, they can never justify spending money on luxury items. So the Taurus’s home is so perfectly curated, but it’s definitely all from Home Goods. They are the ultimate supporter when things are positive… and HOLY SHIT will this be a positive couple. They’re upbeat about everything, including each other. They deal with pain and pleasure in a grounded way, and they’re really adorable when they get excited about something. A very ‘childish fun’ type of couple.

Murder: Hi. Welcome to the weirdest and stupidest fights you’ve ever heard of. Tauruses HAVE to be right. They’re often not. But THEY FUCKING HAVE TO BE. AND YOU MUST SEE THEIR SIDE. YOU MUST. So if two Tauruses disagree about something, good God just let them be. Call the cops, then let them be. Tauruses are just fucking children, so they’re going to fight like children. I’m talking silent treatment, “but she said it first!” kind of asshole fights. Also, they suck if things are negative. If you complain about anything, literally a Taurus will drop you so fast you’ll never see it coming.

Gemini

Marriage: This couple is all about communication, they’re fab with each other about it. Also, Gem/Gem couples are good because they can understand the unpredictability of the other. They’re broad-minded people, and they embrace differences while also being the magnetic cool kids. This is the couple that everyone wants to be friends with because they have the exclusive invites to insider events that they got from some co-worker in the elevator this morning. They’re bizarrely lucky, and also total gossips, which makes for a couple that is NOT for everyone, but actually works really well together.

Murder: These bitches cray. Like, clinically. They’ll do insane things that make no sense, and if their fellow Gem doesn’t approve then they better GTFO. They’re also very quick decision makers, unlike fellow airs Aquarius and Libra. If they don’t like you, you’re dead to them. They will drop you like yesterday’s shirt even if you do something mildly stupid or weird that they’re not a fan of. Like Aries, they can find your weaknesses and prey on them. They will waste NO TIME doing such.

Cancer

Marriage: These bitches sure know how to nurture. In their finest forms, Cancers are basically the physical embodiment of a nice knit blanket and a mug of warm tea. They’re very in touch with their feelings, so heart to hearts with this couple are the best. They will get to know you on a deep deep deep level, and be really trusted with that information. This will be a wonderfully romantic couple who eats takeout like 90% of the time.

Murder: Hello sensitivity. Cancers are the least rational and can get weird about THE WEIRDEST things. I knew a Cancer once who literally ranted for a half an hour because the dishes people were bringing to her Thanksgiving weren’t ‘traditional’ dishes. They were still bringing food… it just wasn’t the food she wanted despite her never saying anything like ‘hey, bring traditional food’. Cancers want you to be mind readers, so if you can’t do that, why tf are you here. They have high expectations of everyone, but ESPECIALLY of other cancers. They’re also clingy af, so even if this couple does break up, they’ll still text flirt for like the next six months. Unhealthy.

Leo

Marriage: This couple is probably famous. They’re HUGE on big, romantic efforts. They want their marriage proposal to go viral on YouTube. They’re also big on events in general… anywhere where they can be seen and show each other off is good. A+ couple to bring to boring work functions… as no doubt this pairing is charming af.

Murder: Holy arrogance. While Leo’s are not necessarily considered clingy, if you don’t show them the attention they believe they deserve, they’ll drop you like a hot potato. With two Leo’s vying for attention in a relationship, SOMETHING’s got to give SOMETIME. Also, they are a jealous sign, so god forbid one of them flirts with someone else at a bar. Fists will be thrown. These are some needy motherfuckers. Also, if a Leo couple is fighting, call the local news crews. Something is GOING to go down. It might be arson, it might be an impromptu theatre performance. Who tf knows.

Virgo

Marriage: The cleanest house ever. Like wtf they keep this place organized. They also dress in matching outfits sometimes and make it weird for everyone else. Virgos can be so analytical that they’ll see something and be like, “Is this what the normal people do?” and just go for it. Slave to trends for sure. This is the ‘old people’ couple out of your friends. They catch up on the latest netflix show and then are in bed by 10pm. You have to plan things with them AT LEAST three months in advance because they are HORRIFIC at texting back. They’re adorable and a little robotic which is just fine for them.

Murder: JUDGE CENTRAL. They’re not always known for it- but Virgos can be hella judgemental. Especially of other Virgos, because they expect them to be better. Virgos expect the top effort, always, and so falling below that line can lead to fights. They’re super goal orientated, and so if they don’t meet those goals, or their Virgo partner doesn’t, then it is certainly game over.

Libra

Marriage: Oh hello there romance! This couple wants their love life to be an actual Nicholas Sparks movie. They both want to be loved more than anything on this planet, so fellow Libras are great for fulfilling that need. They’re soft and lovey and really exceptional cuddlers. This couple are also great at settling arguments. They can see both sides of things, and hate arguing, so disagreements are easily solved. A good libra/libra couple is like a good spa day, just really blissful and relaxing to be around. Refreshing.

Murder: Honestly? This couple couldn’t make a decision to save their goddamn lives. It’s why most won’t work out. Here’s the thing, if a Libra makes a decision, that’s it. They’ve already analysed every possibility. They’ve run the numbers. If someone is their end game, that’s it. Problem is, if the other Libra has not come to that conclusion, you’re gonna have a bad time. This is a stalemate of a couple… and if you’re happy where you are when you start the relationship, it could end well, but if either of you are still in development, it’s best not to even try.

Scorpio

Marriage: Best. Sex. Ever. Passionate af couple taking things to new levels. Trying crazy shit, cooking new recipes, watching porn to find new moves. You constantly stimulate each other both physically and mentally. Another ‘cool kid’ couple, but that’s because they give no shits. If they’re happy together, this couple won’t come down off their high.

Murder: These bastards are VINDICTIVE. If you hurt a Scorpio, you best hope they bury you close enough to the highway that the cops might be able to find your body. If a Scorpio betrays a Scorpio, welcome to the apocalypse. They expect a fellow Scorpio to KNOW that they’re insane, and to KNOW not to cross them. But Scorpios also love pushing people away. They are the ice of the water signs, and much like their totem of the scorpion, they will bite if you get too close. So two scorpions could easily drive each other out instead of just opening up.

Sagittarius

Marriage: This is the couple with their own travel blog. They live out of a fucking van and LOVE IT. They don’t like to be told they can’t do something, so like 90% of this relationship is just pushing each other to do something crazy. It’s basically one awesome game of truth or dare. They always have insane stories, and love throwing dinner parties just so they can sit you down and trap you into listening to said stories.

Murder: Bad Sags are BAD. This is because a hallmark personality trait of these guys is the fact that they believe everyone is dumber than they are. And also that Sags HATE being thought of as dumb. You see the dilemma. Sags are also the flakiest of the signs, so getting two Sags out on a date is gonna be hard enough. They’ll argue about EVERYTHING if they think you’re stupid, so dear Lord, get AWAY if you’re in a Sag/Sag relationship with a power struggle. Because unlike most signs who think they’re right, Sags are RARELY right.

Source: spookyscarysalamander

[high-fructose-lesbianism]

The 5 Best and 5 Worst songs from 2017′s Billboard Top 100 Singles

Whoops, this is like a year late.

The 5 Best Singles

5. 1-800-273-8255- Logic ft. Alessia Cara & Khalid (#79)

Whenever pop songs touch on any sort of serious issue the question for me is do I buy the sentiment? Do I think it comes from a place of authenticity or is it a particularly cynical cash grab? I believe the sentiment on this one. I like the use of the suicide hotline number as the song title and the message is uplifting though not in a way that “message” songs can be where it just says, “hey, don’t do that, you don’t need to.” This song acknowledges the struggles of depression and suicidal thoughts without glorifying them nor minimizing them. 

4. I Feel It Coming- The Weeknd ft. Daft Punk (#34)

I love The Weeknd’s collaborations with Daft Punk. The majority of the Weeknd’s work is more slow jams that might go on a “songs to have sex to playlist” but, well, I don’t have a great deal of need for such songs. I do always have a need for catchy, funky songs that combine the talents of robots and Canadians. AND while being more upbeat, it’s still absolutely a song you could have sex to.

3. Starboy- The Weeknd ft. Daft Punk (#20)

Yeah. I really like The Weeknd/Daft Punk collaboration. This one ranks a little higher because I think the beat is more recognizable. It charted last year and this year so this song has staying power and it deserves it. This is a catchy, well-produced song that missed getting on my best list in 2016 but a year later, with different songs to compete against and (hopefully) me developing slightly better taste in the interim, it’s definitely one of the best charting songs of the year for me.

2. Praying- Kesha (#67)

I don’t know if there’s been a pop song with this level of raw emotion in all the years of Billboard charts I’ve looked at so far. Kesha is an absolute powerhouse in this song. I’m really glad this song charted because it is definitely different from her previous charting singles, it’s certainly not a song to grind against a dude you’ve just met while intoxicated but Praying is such a showcase of Kesha’s talent as an artist. The amount of emotion she evokes in this song is really impressive. Even Adele hasn’t released a charting single that’s such a punch to the feelings. 

1. Feel It Still- Portugal. The Man (#45)

But, at the end of the day, what I really want from my charting pop music is something I can dance to. Feel It Still is an exceptionally danceable song. I love it. It’s so funky. It makes me want to bust out all my white girl dance moves. I feel like there’s a dearth of songs that really make you want to get down and boogie in the charts these days and Feel It Still is there to represent that specific subgenre and it does so perfectly, with a great baseline and retro flair. I’m so about this song.

The 5 Worst Singles

5. Magnolia- Playboi Carti (#79)

There weren’t necessarily a lot of really notable, memorable bad songs on this year’s charts. Magnolia is here because more than anything, it’s forgettable. I guess there’s some use to it in that it sounds like an amalgamation or stereotype of the entire year in charting singles but nobody will remember this song in 15 years. Hell, I’m not sure anyone will remember this song in one year. It’s so disposable. There’s no staying power to it. It doesn’t seem like a song that a lot of people with have a big nostalgic connection to and exclaim in delight if they hear it in 15 years on a throwback radio station. Magnolia just kills three minutes and leaves no emotion, memory or thoughts behind it.

4. I Don’t Wanna Live Forever (Fifty Shades Darker)- ZAYN & Taylor Swift (#26)

I can’t stand Zayn’s falsetto. It hurts my ears. That’s the major sin of this song. If he sang at a register that appealed more to my human ears than bats, this song probably wouldn’t even make my short list of considerations for the worst songs because it’s otherwise a competent if unremarkable song. But jeez, I do not like listening to Zayn hitting that register. It makes me cringe like nails on a chalkboard. The song also doesn’t scream or even whisper passionate, kinky BDSM relationship but hey, the movie also failed on that front so I’m not even mad at that particularly.

3. Look What You Made Me Do- Taylor Swift (#39)

With 1989, if not before then, Taylor Swift proved she cant make a good-ass pop song. 1989 was an album full of them. As a followup, Look What You Made Me Do is more than disappointing. The melody isn’t good and is so unoriginal they had to settle a claim with Right Said Fred of I’m Too Sexy fame. That’s a problem. The sort of sing-talk that Swift does for most of the song also doesn’t appeal to me. And there’s the lyrics. Subtlety thy name is not Taylor Swift. We all know what this song is about and it’s not charming. She comes across as petty, thin-skinned and unlikable. She also completely fails to evoke any sort of bad-girl image despite that being her clear attempt. This song is bad in a way where I’m tempted to call it lazy because it’s definitely not utilizing all the potential of Taylor Swift and her team but that’s sort of the worst part about it, it’s not lazy or a throwaway song. A lot of thought went into this and all those thoughts were bad. This is not a song, it’s a compilation of bad ideas.

2. Chained to the Rhythm- Katy Perry ft. Skip Marley (#73)

It’s arguable if Katy Perry ever had a personality but in recent years I still feel like she’s lost whatever personality she initially had. This song is cliche and lame. Maybe a singer with a more powerhouse voice could’ve sold it but I dunno, the basic tune of this song seems like something I’ve heard several times before. Katy Perry’s music has always been pretty shallow but I excused it in the early years because it was at least catchy. I don’t find this song nor many of her recent hits to be such. Chained to the Rhythm just seems tired. It’s supposed to be a roof-raising party song but I just feel sleepy and a little sad when I listen to it. Even the fact that the chorus mentions zombies doesn’t soften my opinion to it. It’s such a bad simile and doesn’t even have the right number of syllables to quite fit the melody. I don’t like it.

1. Body Like a Back Road- Sam Hunt (#8)

Holy shit. This song is the highest charting of any song on my best or worst list and it’s the stupidest. I don’t need to do a particularly in depth analysis of this, do I? Comparing your lover’s body to a road of any description is a bad and unflattering metaphor. Anyone who’s a fan of country music should be furious at this song because it sounds like a parody of country music. How did Sam Hunt ever think this was a good and complimentary thing to say about his girl? God, this song is just beyond stupid. Sam Hunt deserves to be punched in the throat by the shambling, resurrected corpse of Johnny Cash for writing, recording and releasing this song.

Other Observations on this List

It’s been like a year since I started listening to this and I’m just hammering this out before I go on vacation for a week so these observations are gonna be kinda half-assed.

Listening to this playlist back in January and then months later when I finished was sort of interesting because I had a lot more passionate opinions in January and a lot of them felt sort of nullified when I went back and finished this in later months because music trends just sunk in more for me I guess.

I do wish this current trend of sort of droning pop music would end. So many songs this year don’t have a whole lot of inherent danceability.

So white rappers aren’t even a notable change in the status quo now, huh? I’m not saying 2018 was the first year that white rappers existed but I have noticed that in the past two or three years there just seems to be far more prominence of white rappers and less discussion about that. I think, as a culture, we’ve just stopped caring if it’s cultural appropriation or whatever which is fine I guess, but some of them are so average, I sorta wish it was still the case where (with the exception of Vanilla Ice), white rappers had to be in some way notable to prove that they deserved to take up space in a genre that started as being by and for the black community.

I didn’t put Bodak Yellow on my best list basically because of personal taste (mine is bad) but damn. What a powerhouse of a song. As a statement of intent, it’s exceptional. Cardi B came to slay.

Can we PLEASE be done with Maroon 5?

iSpy almost made my best list. It’s dumb but at least it knows it’s a dumb song which shows self-awareness that actually makes it smarter than a lot of songs on this list.

[justanotherdolanblog]

i was tagged by @dolandreaminn 💓

rules: tag 10 followers you want to get to know better

name: Abby

gender: female

star sign: libra

height: 5'4

favorite meal of the day: ya girl can always eat let's be honest

what image do you have as a wallpaper?: my lock screen is a picture of the lake from chicago and my home screen is my picture w tana 💕

have you had a crush on a teacher?: yes omfg. i was so cringe. in middle school i was IN LOVE w my school counselor. not that i wasn't depressed and needed to talk to him but it was also a great excuse to stare at his face for half an hour.

where do you see yourself in 10 years?: i don't even know anymore tbfh. hopefully w a career. married. maybe a child?? definitely lots of animals.

if you could be anywhere else right now, where?: california!!! always wanted to go there

what was your coolest halloween costume?: um. i was a zombie hippie last halloween. but i have never gone all our for costumes.

what's your favorite 90s show?: boy meets world or saved by the bell (i know it technically first aired in '89 BUT IT COUNTS)

last kiss: last night lol

have you ever been stood up?: by friends, yes, unfortunately

have you ever been to las vegas?: nope

favorite pair of shoes?: my burks!!! even though it's way too cold for them right now

favorite fruit: pineapple 🍍

favorite book: i love reading so this is hard. i just read all the bright places and it was sooooo good. so i'll say that one lol.

stupidest thing you've ever done: y'all i do stupid shit on the daily so this is hard. the most recent stupid thing i've done is accidentally text my mom instead of my friend and i literally said "yoooo i would definitely fuck young mr. rogers" thankfully i realized before she read it so i deleted it BUT STILL LMFAO.

i tag: @interstellardolan @goldendxlan @joeyskinnyleg @dolantreehisser @dolantwins-1999 @grayson-dolans-dangly-earring @ethandolxn

(y'all idk who to tag i just picked a few random accounts just do it if you want please)

[retrauxpunk]

tagged by @sardoniyx THANK U HUN XX 

when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?: I categorically Do Not have cereal. ...but it’s pretty much been milk in the past because i like the cereal much more than the milk.

do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?: i mean i think i did sometimes when cold weather was a novelty rather than the five-year-long winter that this current winter in london feels like 

how do you take your coffee/tea?: coffee with a shitload of sugar and milk and sometimes flavourings ... tea with milk and one sugar.

do you keep plants?: nah

what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?: writing (poetic prose/poetry if it’s a particular brand of romantic/romance-adjacent feeling) ... sometimes drawing

do you like singing/humming to yourself?: yeeeees

what’s something that made you smile today?: oh man. i haven’t had a good day. but something that made me INTERNALLY SMILE was this excellent message @cheapskate-bleeding-queer sent me :)

what’s your favorite pasta dish?: spaghetti/penne with GARLIC and CHEESE and sometimes CHILLI and (usually but not a necessity) a meat like chicken or cured meats, in a cream/egg sauce UGHHH GOD. also bolognese is pretty Rad. with heaps of herbs/spices. unghhhhhh

what’s your favorite eye color?: i don’t know if i have one? my first fave as a kid was green. i used to not think very highly of dark brown eyes (which i have) bc it’s basically never lauded in popular media etc but then i got crushes on a series of guys with dark eyes and now i see they’re PRETTY RAD TOO

what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?: peppermint/spearmint

what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks: SOCKS ARE FUN AND NICE AND WARM. I LIKE SOCKS WITH FUNKY/CUTE DESIGNS. wearing mismatched socks is FUN. socks that fit poorly are deeply bad. i don’t sleep with socks. i used to when i was a kid.

what’s your fave pastry?: anything with cheese and bacon. at work they have these cheese and bacon turnovers which are kind of puff pastry and they are the most fucking delicious thing ever every time i eat one i’m like jesus fucking christ how can something taset this good oh man

tell us about your pet peeves!: when people put their bags on seats on public transport and DON’T MOVE THEM when others approach to sit! when people sit on the outer seat of a two-seater on a bus/train and DON’T MOVE IN OR GET UP WHEN SOMEONE WANTS TO SIT! When someone is playing music through SPEAKERS in a PUBLIC PLACE and they are not some kind of busker/paid musician and especially if it’s shit music! people who roar down busy/populated/suburban/urban areas in EXTREMELY LOUD CARS AND MOTORCYCLES WHY? is this necessary? if it isn’t -- DO YOU FEEL REALLY SECURE ABOUT YOUR EGO? IS YOUR JUNK MONUMENTOUS? IS YOUR DICK SO BIG YOU CAN SWING IT ROUND LIKE A FIRE HOSE? also, fuckwits who open conversations with me by asking “excuse me, what part of china are you from”. if anyone presumes my ethnicity again (i don’t care if they’re correct) i’m going to make up some bullshit like “i am white, with a rare strain of jaundice” or just speak german to them and pretend i don’t know english at all.

think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?: a gold/enamel pendant that’s a disc with a hole in the middle that looks like a segmented colour wheel. i bought it in the Exploratorium gift shop in San Francisco, I was not having a great time and bought it to cheer myself up a bit? and i turned it into a symbol of overcoming unpleasant thought spirals or something like that, in my head.

do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!: i like the tom n toms chain in sydney. i go to the one in central or the one in town hall and i’ve been there so many times with so many people and have basically always had a great time, drinking the peppermint hot chocolate. many hours of bitching/moaning about my love life has been spent there. it’s been great. i was even there with an ex once but the place CANNOT BE RUINED because i’ve also been there with like all of my best friends. and it’s always a stellar experience. yum. also, brainwave cafe which was right near the design building at my uni. a cute aesthetic, nice food, and i love the proximity to my alma mater, and i had nice experiences at uni overall, therefore GOOD ASSOCIATIONS, etc.

do you trust your instincts a lot?: i did, but lately they seem to have gone on a leave of absence so ........... like ........... yeah i dunno.

what food do you think should be banned from the universe?: anything that necessitates inhumane/cruel slaughter or treatment of animals e.g. foie gras, lobster that had to be boiled alive, whales killed by being dragged through the sea by harpoons, those sadistic dishes from asia (don’t google if you don’t want to learn about actually graphic/disturbing mistreatment of animals)

do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?: records yes because i have a record player and kind of want to be a Vinyl Person because aesthetic and i hate having money apparently HAHAH. the last one i bought was Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life by The Wombats -- I preordered it -- there were a series of fiascos about the delivery but I think I’ll have it in my hands by the end of the week FINALLY 

think of a person. what song do you associate with them?: literally anything by the killers (you know who you are). Waiting For The End by Linkin Park reminds me of my first bf (though not in a bad way). 

do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?: yes, but i have very specific taste. i like Kelsey Rakes and a bunch of others whom I found on deviantART back when that was my life. 

what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever received?: a couple times i was regifted the gifts that i got those people in the first place HAHAH not a hug deal though

what’s winter like where you live?: currently london. from the perspective of a sydneysider, it is ....... ......... GREY. you wake up and if you have a commitment like work, you just push through. if you don’t and you’re in the house, you open the curtains and see how the light level inside basically doesn’t change and you think WHAT IS THE POINT OF BEING ALIVE. also in the middle of winter the sun literally sets BEFORE FOUR P.M. WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK. the cold isn’t too bad, but the lack of sunlight is depressing. on the other hand, mulled wine is nice.

what are your favorite board games?: INNOVATION, HANDS DOWN. i also really like Monikers.

is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?: i don’t think so ... sleeping, maybe?

are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?: in isolation they’re pretty cute and in movie context they’re funny but oversaturation/inappropriate usage makes them a little tiresome. also i read a tweet of minion smut and it was hilarious and i loved it.

are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?: i have one tattoo which is one half of a super dumb in joke/relationship meme that i came up with .......... so i want to get the second half at some point. it’ll be a couple inches square, on my right leg. i also want to get a big one on my upper arm of some kind of bird, in a bit of an industrial style.

are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?: i rather enjoy dadaism as a concept ... man there’s one i think is on the tip of my brain but i... can’t think of it ...? i like luminism. i like warhol and lichtenstein’s pop art. roccoco is fun. 

talk about your one of you favorite cities: y’know, i do like london. i love the shit-ton of theatres, the fact that musicians/performers ACTUALLY COME HERE, the WONDERFUL ABUNDANCE OF LIVE COMEDY, the fact i can go see studio recordings of TV shows, the PROXIMITY TO THE REST OF EUROPE OMG, the general aesthetic/vibe, the pleasant accents, the general feeling of safety/cleanliness. also you know what? SYDNEY. SYDNEY FUCKING ROCKS. the weather is beautiful, every fucking sydneysider who complains about sydney weather honestly doesn’t know shit. the harbour/seaside is GORGEOUS. there is a GREAT foodie/hipster cafe scene. it’s relatively clean and safe. it’s wonderfully multicultural. it’s lively but not too busy/crowded. (oh man the weather!!) ....yeah both are also crazy fucking expensive and i seem to hate living in affordable places haha kill me

where do you plan on traveling this year?: i don’t want to go anywhere. i know my family wants me to go to china but considering how my last trip went, i am Not Really Keen? but i probably should, to see the rellies

myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?: either INFP or INFJ i think? depending on the test, aries, ravenclaw/gryffindor

oh yeah tagging: @cheapskate-bleeding-queer @dandelionwyne @soapbubblepopper @whyteraven91 @watching-the-fire-dance @monkiponken @themythicalgarden + anyone who wants to do this ^_^

[ghoulboi]

Rules: Tag ten followers you want to get to know better

i was tagged by the lovely @ghoulign and i’m tagging absolutely anyone who wants to do this!!

name: lee

gender: cis female

star sign: aries

height: i like to say i’m 5″3 but really i’m a measly 5″2.5

sexuality: big ol’ lesbian!

what image do you have as your lock screen?: me and my girlfriend :,)

have you ever had a crush on a teacher?: oh definitely

where do you see yourself in 10 years?: the optimistic version is something like being a published writer, getting married, adopting 83493937 dogs, being financially stable. the realistic version is still living with my mum, still depressed, absolutely none of my shit is together, i’m a failure, time is meaningless we all die anyway,

if you could be anywhere else in the world right now, where?: hmm idk. i’m going to spain next week tho so i guess i can’t say that. probably my hometown because i haven’t been there since 2009 and i miss it greatly :(

what was your coolest halloween costume?: i’ve never rlly had any good costumes. i’m too last minute for that

what’s your favourite 90s show?: friends!!

last kiss?: my girlfrieeeend

have you ever been stood up?: nah

have you ever been to las vegas?: the only place in america i’ve been to is florida so nope

favourite pair of shoes: my black high-top converses

favourite fruit: really into peaches rn

favourite book: uhhhhhh. i read a lot. i guess my favourite book is smthn pretentious like the bell jar by sylvia plath but my fave series is the raven cycle.

stupidest thing you’ve ever done: oh, god. a lot. one time i dropped a hairbrush down the toilet and then dropped my backup hairbrush down the toilet again. once i got caught bitching about a teacher by said teacher because i was literally outside their classroom. i’ve also pressed the hairdryer into my carpet twice because i wanted to know what happened. you know, the list is endless

if u actually read even half of all that let alone made it to the end i hereby honour u as the coolest and u deserve a medal B)