#my computer....causing me grief

[gifti3]

Good night

[rustyironskillet]

Day 12: Time Travel

“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.

A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!

Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.

The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.

“Why?” 

“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!

Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.

The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.

“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”

“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.

“Yes and no”

“Huh?” 

“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.

However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.

“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”

At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.

“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”

“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.

Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.  

“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”

Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.

“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”

Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”

“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”

“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.

“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”

“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.

“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.

“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.

“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.

“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.

“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.

“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”

“Sure, that’ll work”

“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”

“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.

“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”

Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.

“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”

“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.

As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.

“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”

[stevejobsbuysasamsung]

Why 'The Naked Time' says so much about Spock and Kirk's relationship

Okay y'all buckle up, because I'm 'bouta read too much into subtext and symbolism for my own good,,,

In saying that, I feel that this episode reveals so much about Spock and Kirk. It portrays their attitudes and feelings towards love, relationships, and... each other??!?!?!

The premise of this episode is that there is a disease transmitted through touch. It leads the victims the descend into a form of 'madness'. The disease's manifestation is related to the individual's inner psyche; Spock himself says it forces 'hidden personality traits ... to the surface'. This happens to Sulu, who starts to yield a fencing sword towards other crewpeople on the ship. Given his love for fencing, and that he is 'at heart a swashbuckler', the illness has responded to this. This is foreshadowed by the word 'naked' in the title: to mean bare, undisguised, as you are.

Christine Chapel soon becomes ill with this disease. She confesses her love for Spock and reaches out to touch his hands. Spock flinches at first but does not choose to resist as she continues. Significantly, she says she is in love with 'the human Mister Spock, the Vulcan Mister Spock.' Chapel finishes with, 'I do love you just as you are.'

Summarily, Spock becomes incapacitated in two ways; by the physical touch of Chapel, he has the illness; but also by the denigration of logic and surfacing of repressed emotions. I mean, why does Spock hold on to Chapel's fervourous touch and apologises to her profusely, multifold? By what logic would permit this? Surely no logic that abides by the teachings of his Vulcan upbringing.

Spock is visibly overwhelmed by the confession. That, not only is he loved, he is loved as a Vulcan and as a human - a dual identity that Spock struggles to live with.

Importantly, for Spock this disease reveals the unresolved tensions of these identities and the vigorous dedication he has to silencing his human side with Vulcan logic. Spock stumbles out, tearful, and plaintively cries that he is in control of his emotions. He grasps a computer of all things, the zenith of binary choices and answers, of perhaps Vulcan logic. Then, he assures himself that he is a science officer - a professional observer - an identity which would somehow negate the feelings he is experiencing. But even scientists, humans, and Vulcans can experience emotions, and this fact, coupled with the encumberment of this disease, causes Spock to unravel.

The height of this episode, for me, is when Kirk finds him. Through glassy windows of tears, Spock looks to Kirk and laments that he can never tell his mother that he loves her (because he is Vulcan). He then looks to Kirk and says, 'when I feel friendship for you, I'm ashamed'. The emotion that Spock is battling is not grief, anger, sadness, but, let's face it, love.

When they start slapping each other, they actually... tightly hold hands. To me, they're ferociously making out, full pash sesh, heaving petting.

And where, earlier, in a similar embrace, Spock found himself restricted by Chapel, Spock holds on to Kirk's hand for dear life.

This next bit seems like it runs unparallel to Spirk as a ship, but let me explain why it doesn't. Kirk contracts the disease from Spock, and also battles with the impossibility of love as the Ship's Captain. This love is dedicated to his yeoman. Immediately, it seems as if Spock has ... recovered? He switches off, begins to take control of the situation and the impending doom that would occur if they don't get power for something something sciency words something to do with engines. When Spock seeks Kirk in this state, it's as if he has responded to Kirk's lack of affection. The illness appears to recede.

Where this comes full circle is with the writing on the wall (literally). Spock observes, 'Love Mankind' on the wall.

This may relate to embracing his human side, and further his love for Kirk.

Kirk's writing on the wall? In the turbolift, upon finishing his comments about his love for his yeoman, is faced with:

What must Kirk repent for as a sinner? Can I be bold and say this might be about lying as a sin, perhaps?

Anyway. It is 1.30 am, I need to fight with the writers of this episode and I need to put my creative writing skills to use somewhere else, probably. I hope you enjoyed the mess that lives in my mind and my attempt to coherently collate what was a dozen voice messages sent to my best friends who are sleeping. I should probably sleep too...

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 8

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

omg hi guys.............

i'm so sorry for leaving it this long, i just literally could not write anything, my brain was absolutely fogged up - probably because i had covid unknowingly lmao. this is another long chapter so i hope this makes up for it! <3

thank you for reading and for all your kind messages and support, i appreciate you all so much. i know i say this constantly but i really mean it. stay safe and keep healthy, guys!! love you :')

let's get this train on the ROAD!!!

The summer of '93 was an interesting feat, to say the least. Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, and you'd found yourself dating someone you never thought you would.

You had not expected yourself to be caught up in a whirlwind type of romance, especially not by someone you'd despised back in school. Yet, here you were, arm in arm with none other than school menace, Benjamin Bluewater. The two of you were currently strolling through Hogsmeade, wide smiles spread across your rosy-cheeked, cold faces. The snow crunched beneath your feet as Ben wrapped an affectionate arm around your waist, pulling you close against him. You failed horribly at trying to hide the bashful smile that picked at the corners of your shivering lips.

"I'm gonna miss seeing you every other day." Ben said, giving you a squeeze.

"Yeah," you hummed happily, glancing up, "this summer has been very..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words. Ben glanced down at you, a lazy half-smile reaching his lips.

"Unexpected?" He chuckled, finishing your sentence for you.

A grin broke out on your face and Ben leant down to plant a soft kiss against your smiling mouth. "Definitely." You replied against his lips, nodding softly, letting your eyes fall back to the powdery-white trail in front of you as he pulled away. "You can visit me if it gets too hard." You teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow. It'd only been a month and a bit of seeing Ben, but he really had you hooked. Each time you saw him, the agonising thought of you and Snape melted away from your mind a little bit more. You felt like you'd finally got control - he was no longer dictating how you felt. However, you did feel a tad bit guilty. At times it felt like you were using Ben to get over the broody Potions Master. You didn't dare tell him about it either, you were pretty sure that he wouldn't take it well - in fact, you were certain he wouldn't. How would he believe that you'd fallen for the man that used to cause the pair of you grief in school? For starters, he used to be your teacher all those years ago, and secondly, in Ben's mind, he considered Snape an ugly old git.

"I think you'll be the first to crack, Y/N." Ben nudged you back, prompting a playful scoff to fall from your mouth. Ben's lips broke into a grin, pleased with your reaction.

"As if," You choked. "Wait, who was it again that turned up at my door the day after our first date? Oh yeah, you." You scrunched your nose up at him and poked out your tongue, though, your attention was soon hooked by the flash of what looked like a figure dressed in all-black. Your breath caught in your throat as your head snapped to the left, eyes flicking desperately between the forest of pine trees, searching  for what you thought you had seen. Ben picked up on your change in behaviour almost immediately.

It couldn't be, you thought, heart suddenly beginning to race.

"You okay?" His bushy brows furrowed at your unusual skittish demeanour, clearly worried about you. Ben's alarmed voice did not compute in your head. "Hey," His hand slipped from your arm and fell to your wrist, tugging it at it to pull you from your thoughts, inducing a soft gasp from you as you spun on your heel to face Ben. It looked as if you had just seen a ghost of some sort.

"What?" You questioned softly, blinking. Ben stared at you.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost, Y/N." He said, concerned. You swallowed and wet your lips, looking down at the ground as he brushed his thumb tenderly against your wrist.

"I'm alright." You looked back up at Ben, placing a forced smile upon your lips. He didn't seem convinced, though he didn't press you. He gave you the benefit of the doubt. "Just, err, just a little on edge, you know with, erm, the whole Sirius Black thing." You lied, a nervous chuckle leaving your throat.

"I don't think the mass murderer known as Sirius Black would bother himself with a place such as Hogsmeade, Y/N." Ben smiled, almost amusedly at you. You stayed silent, not sure what to say. Ben let his blue eyes to flick between yours, almost like he was attempting to read your mind. You broke the connection and glanced away, an uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. Ben sighed gently and looked ahead of the two of you. The town of Hogsmeade was settled in the distance, shrouded in a cloudy mist. An idea popped in his mind. "Would a tea or a hot beverage of some sort make you feel a little better?"

"Um, yes, I could go for a tea." You nodded lightly, looking back to Ben. A small smile graced his features as he let his warm hand slip into yours. The corners of your lips tugged upwards a little. Ben felt at ease once more as your pretty face was lit up with that bright smile of yours. He couldn't resist placing another sweet kiss upon your lips.

"Alright. Let's go, I know just the place."

You laid on your bed in your quarters at Hogwarts, the pale sunlight peeking through your curtains was slowly ceasing as the evening began to set in. Your mind was constantly reeling back to yesterday afternoon. You continuously replayed the memory of the flash of black in your mind, attempting to put a name to what it was. A sigh of frustration left your lips, leading into a groan. You refused to acknowledge who you thought it was. There was just no way.

All those feelings and thoughts that you'd buried and hidden away with the idea of Ben started to creep back out of it's cage and it frightened you. Perhaps it was foolish of you to think that you'd move on so quickly. A month and a bit was definitely not enough time to heal. Yes, you were unquestionably foolish to think that forty-three days was a satisfactory amount of time to rid yourself of the thought of someone you had been near almost every day for a year.

Whatever, you thought. It'll pass. It will... won't it?

Gods, now you were doubting yourself. You knew you still felt deeply for Snape, of course you did, you spent almost a whole year in his presence, but you thought dating someone else in the meantime would have solved some of that. Jesus, that's messed up. Were you just using Ben to get over Snape? This was so wrong on so many levels. You liked Ben, truly you did, but you always found yourself comparing him to Severus. The way he spoke, the way he moved... your mind was plagued with him, and you were an idiot to think that locking away the thought of Severus would do anything but help yourself. You did this to yourself, and now you deserved to deal with the consequences. You just had to act like your feelings for him didn't exist, maybe that would help. …Maybe it wouldn't, but that was the best idea you had right now.

You needed to clear your head, and badly. Your buzzing thoughts were starting to drown you. You quickly slipped out of your bed and headed out of your room, quietly shutting the door behind you. Just as you were about to turn around to walk down the hallway, a tall, shabby looking man stood in your way. He had light brown hair with flecks of grey in it, a fluffy moustache and a rather painful looking scar was scraped across the middle of his handsome face.

"Oh- hello," You said in surprise, confusion evident in your tone. The man smiled at you jovially, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He looked rather tired and pale. You tilted your head at him, furrowing your brows.

"I apologise for scaring you," The man pursed his lips as he attempted a light-hearted joke, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm Remus, err, Remus Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." He added, his eyebrows raising a tad.

"Oh, yes, of course!" You instantly smiled, your cheeks turning a little red out of embarrassment. Lupin found it rather endearing. You scolded yourself for forgetting soemthing so important - Dumbledore had mentioned this the day before you left for Summer break. "I'm so sorry, it had totally slipped my mind. My name is Y/N L/N," Your smile widened as you held out a friendly hand for him to shake. "I'm the professor of Herbology here at Hogwarts."

"Ah," He nodded, returning your smile and shaking your hand. His grip was firm. "Lovely to meet you. I hope we get along well, Professor L/N." Remus said trustingly, his hands returning to his pockets. You clasped yours together, resting them against your hips out of habit.

"I'm sure we will, and please, call me Y/N." You grinned. Remus gave you a curt nod. "Is this your first day here?"

"Teaching yes, but in regards to having been here before? No." He replied.

"Oh?"

"I attended Hogwarts as a small boy, so it's a little nostalgic walking round the place again." Remus explained, earning a surprised look from you.

"It seems as though every single teacher here also used to be a student here." You laughed lightly, inducing an amused smile from the new professor.

"It seems that way, yes." Remus nodded.

"Well, I hope to see you around, Remus." You smiled politely at him, noticing the way he slumped slightly in posture, almost like he was trying to hide himself. Remus returned your smile and dismissed you with a nod, continuing past you with a slow gait. You let yourself think for a moment. Those scars looked pretty horrific, they looked rather... deep. A grimace twisted your facial features as your mind raced with quite gruesome and morbid theories on how Lupin had acquired those wounds. You shook your head rather vigorously as if to relieve your mind of the grisly images that were popping in and out of it.

The hallways and corridors of Hogwarts were peacefully empty once again. Students, old and new, were still back at home preparing for the next school year that began in just a couple days. Goosebumps erupted on your body out of anticipation as you thought about what the year could hold - though, you were mainly excited to get back to teaching your beloved subject. In fact, you'd missed it a lot over the summer. More than you expected to, despite the distraction called Ben.

A tiny smile flickered on your lips at the thought of him, your eyes glued to the floor in front of you as your feet carried you forwards, a cool chill wrapping itself around your bare shoulders. You were wearing a thick-ish, buttercup-yellow night dress; the sleeves reached your wrists, but it was a little baggy up top, causing the wide neckline to slip partially off your shoulder. The chill made you quickly pull it up with your fingers, enveloping yourself with your arms.

Bumping into Professor Lupin outside your room had caught you off-guard. The thought of grabbing a coat of some sort had slipped from your mind the second your curious and confused eyes fell onto him. You shivered slightly, cursing yourself for being so forgetful sometimes. It might have been late August, but Scotland's freezing climate left no survivors.

"Did you not think it unwise to go around strolling in such... poorly thought out attire, Professor L/N? It is almost as cold as the arctic." That deep voice that had caused you so much grief and heartache shot through your head like a stray bullet. You froze in your position, your breath hitching as you refused to turn around to acknowledge the man that spoke with such articulated words it seemed laughable. You felt like you couldn't move. Like you were in a glue trap, like a little mouse.

Eventually, you thawed. "I'm not cold." You replied shortly, reluctantly turning around to face Snape. Your heart instantly sped into a gallop as your eyes fell onto his tall, brooding figure. Then and there, thought of Ben entered your mind as you stared at the Potions Master, immediately comparing the two. You knew Ben didn't make your heart race like he did. Your shoulders suddenly slumped with guilt. You shouldn't be thinking any of this. Ben was good for you, he treated you with kindness and respect, and most of all, he actually liked you.

"Your trembling figure says otherwise." Snape tilted his head at you, scrutinising you. Right then you wanted to shrink down into nothingness. You couldn't bear to feel so vulnerable underneath his eyes. Somehow, Snape looked better than the last time you saw him. And you hated that. You were sure you looked utterly terrible right now.

"I'm fine." You said sternly, dragging out the syllables as you fought back the bitter glare that was itching to break out onto your face.

"Fine, hm..." Snape drawled, almost mocking and sarcastic, letting his dark eyes drop down your figure, studying your improper outfit. You hugged yourself tighter at the sight, cheeks suddenly burning as you felt rather self-conscious. His brows knitted together suddenly, like something had just clicked in his mind. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

You hesitated. "I forgot to grab one." Snape's brow arched at you disapprovingly. You fought the urge to groan at him. "I bumped into the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus Lupin, outside my door." You explained, tone flat. "It's not like you care whether I freeze to death or not anyway." You added, rather bitterly. Snape narrowed his eyes at you, glaring. He did care, but he would never show it. Not right now, at least.

"Lupin?" He repeated, ignoring your last comment as his jaw ticked out of irritation. You frowned at his odd reaction. "I suggest you stay away from him, Professor L/N. For your own..." Snape trailed off, pondering on his words as he let his eyes sweep over you in a patronising manner. "...good." He uttered, almost like a warning. You were completely and utterly confused. Why did Snape seem so unwelcoming towards Lupin, he'd just joined Hogwarts, unless there was... history between them? Was there?

"What's wrong with Remus?" You asked, eyes narrowing in curiosity and suspicion about his feelings regarding the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Snape's jaw clenched at the sound of Lupin's first name, almost like he flinched. "He seemed perfectly kind and pleasant earlier."

Snape didn't reply. A harsh, exasperated sigh fell through your nose as you rolled your eyes at the enigmatic man before you, growing tired of his games. Why did he always act so cryptic? What was the problem with telling you the truth? Would it be so bad?

Before you could protest and poke at his mind, Snape began to stalk away from you, prompting a curt scoff to leave your lips. Your teeth were gritted out of frustration as you stared at the back of his head. Christ, he really hadn't changed - he was still pissing you off at an almighty rate. At this point, it was impressive.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, forcing Snape to halt in his tracks. He turned his head to the left, silently encouraging you to continue. "Would you just answer me?"

"I don't owe you anything." Snape said rather coldly. You clenched your jaw rather angrily at his rude reply. Jesus, will this guy ever just bite the bullet for once and give in?

"When you tell me to 'avoid' Professor Lupin, I think that demands an explanation as to why I should, Snape," You said, shaking your head at him like he was daft. "You must be delusional to think otherwise!" That must have struck a nerve within the Potions Master, as he swiftly spun around, his cloak turning with him dramatically like a bat, making you shrink in regret. He stormed over to you, footsteps heavy and determined. You backed yourself up, a little unnerved by his sudden and intense approach towards you. Snape got right up in your face and you could feel his hot breath dance across your skin, sending anxious goosebumps down your spine. It felt like your heart was about to fall out of your chest from the high gear it had suddenly kicked into. 

How could- no, why was your body still reacting so fiercely to Snape? Weren't you meant to be focusing on Ben?

"Lupin is not who you think he is, Y/N." Snape warned, snapping you out of your thoughts. It nearly sounded like there was a hint of concern in his voice, like he was worried about you. You had to laugh at that, as if Snape - the man who had pretended like you didn't exist for half a year - cared for you. He'd never stoop to such a pathetic ideal. You brushed the hurtful lie under a dusty rug in your mind, averting your attention back to the pair of deep, obsidian-coloured eyes that sat mere inches away from your own.

"And how do you know that?" You challenged, a hint of venom in your voice as you mocked his serious tone. Snape sneered at you, leaning back from your face, like he was disgusted.

"Your ignorance is blinding." He replied bitterly, still refusing to explain anything to you. At this point he seemed like a child to you. From his the way he glared at you, and reeled back from your agitated little form, Snape seemed to be disappointed in you. You didn't think he had a leg to stand on with that idea.

And so, that was your last straw, you couldn't hold in your frustration anymore; it felt like all the pressure that had been building up beneath your skin was coming to a rise and it had finally burst at the seams. "Jesus, Snape!" You cried out, infuriated, your hands flying up to pull helplessly at your hair. "Why is it so hard for you to answer me?! Are you so incapable of that?!"

Snape seemed a little taken aback by your outburst as the ill feeling of deja vu began to seep into his bones. This felt a little too familiar: it reminded him of that night he found you drunk. Yet, right now, you were stone-cold sober, and still shouting the same things at him. In regards to your outburst, he truly hadn't seen it coming, and yet, he was almost always aware of how you were feeling. He could read you so easily. To him, you were like a book he'd read almost a thousand times. He remained quiet again, unsure of how to reply to your instantaneous combustion; a briefly-lived feeling of worry that he'd add more fuel to the fire.

He couldn't reveal the reason to you. He'd given Dumbledore his word that he would not speak of Lupin's condition. In fact, Snape had doubted Dumbledore's usually-wise judgement when he mentioned that he'd hired Lupin. The Potions Master thought the Headmaster had gone mad for openly inviting a werewolf into Hogwarts, let alone allowing him to teach classes full of children. And then, he'd found himself roped into producing the Wolfsbane potion so Lupin could keep his wretched condition of Lycanthropy at bay. Snape still doubted the whole idea. He knew it was doomed from the very beginning. Balancing the safety of Hogwarts on the constant, perfect production of a potion and the hope that Lupin was competent enough to remember to take it each day of the preceding week of a full moon?

Doomed, Snape thought.

Despite your best efforts of attempting to force the answer out of Snape, he knew you'd figure it out sooner or later once you noticed which ingredients he'd be borrowing from you. He had faith that you were smart enough to work it out. So, he stood straighter in front of you, wordlessly giving you his answer as he turned around to walk away from you.

No.

"A warm, warm welcome back to you all!" Dumbledore's raspy voice boomed through the Great Hall, the applause from students and staff alike to quickly quietening down. You were seated comfortably between McGonagall and Hagrid, and it felt awfully similar to last year. Just a year ago, you had no idea what you were strapping yourself in for. "Before we indulge ourselves in this delectable feast, I'd like to welcome Professor RJ Lupin, who will be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore said, turning around to gesture to Lupin with eccentric, wrinkly hands. The professor stood up goofily with anxiously-clasped hands, giving a grateful nod to the Hall as they applauded him. He caught your eye, and you sent him an encouraging smile, ignoring Snape's distasteful face beside Lupin.

"Good luck, professor! Now, our teacher for the Care of Magical Creatures for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be taken than none other than our own, Rubeus Hagrid!" The Headmaster announced as he spun around to gesture to the half-man-half-giant sat happily beside you, a genial smile spreading across the Dumbledore's face. Applause and whoops erupted in the Hall once more as Hagrid gave a short nod and a cheerful smile to the hooting crowd. You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, prompting him to stand up, his large belly shoving the table forwards with a sharp screech; a handful of glass goblets falling over and smashing. McGonagall looked up at the newly-appointed professor rather disappointedly before eyes her goblet that now laid shattered before her.

"Finally, on a more describing note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts will until further notice play host to the dementors of Azkaban, until such a time Sirius Black is captured." Dumbledore said, a stern and serious tone taking place of his usual reserved one. Gods, how could you have forgotten? Mass murderer Sirius Black was still on the loose. Apparently the thought of Snape was enough to distract you from a highly important news article. And now, one of the most feared creatures of the Wizarding World was going to be lingering around Hogwarts? This was not what you signed up for. Your teeth started to chew against the inside of your bottom lip anxiously.

"Will they be on the school grounds?" You whispered to Minerva beside you, failing miserably at trying to hide the shaky fear within your voice. She instantly looked at you, smiling softly. You'd always had a phobia of dementors, and now the fact that they were going to be lurking around the school had put you on edge. Merlin, can this year get any worse?

"I'm not sure, my dear." Minerva replied to you quietly, subtly noticing the fear swimming in your eyes. The older witch placed a hand upon yours in an attempt to soothe your anxiety. "There's nothing to worry about, I assure you." You merely nodded at her, unbelieving. Nothing to worry about, sure. It's not like some savage, minacious murderer is on the loose.

"The dementors willl be stationed at every entrance to the grounds." There goes your sanity. "Now, whilst I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities, a word of caution: dementors are vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt, and the one who gets in their way." You hated the way that Dumbledore spoke of the dementors, and it hardly settled your trembling and anxious mind. No, in fact, it bloody well worsened it. The old man was basically saying if you get in their way, it's a death sentence. They have no sense to decide whether you're a threat or not, or they just don't care.

Either way, you were screwed. You could not produce a Patronus charm, let alone a corporeal one, and it was something that played on your mind a lot. You could never find the right memory to do so. Every happy memory you flicked through in your mind, it just wasn't happy enough. So, if you came into contact with a dementor, you were, let's say, royally fucked. Was your life that sad?

"Therefore, I must warn each and every one of you, give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving. But, you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light." The Headmaster finished with a cryptic riddle, making you sigh a little heavier than expected, catching an intrigued look from Hagrid. Sorry, but what the fuck does that even mean, Dumbledore? You were well aware that Dumbledore was undoubtedly an ingenious and powerful wizard, but sometimes, the things that came out of his mouth just sounded like nonsense. Maybe he just said those random things to keep up his mysterious act.

As you looked up from the nervous, fidgeting fingers in your lap, your eyes locked with that same pair of black, emotionless ones that were staring so deeply into yours just last night. Immediately, you looked away, your cheeks flushing red out of embarrassment, and perhaps, suppressed affection. There was that weighty feeling of guilt again, finding your shoulders once more. Ben's smiling face materialised in your mind as you shut your eyes, attempting to rid yourself of the buzzing feeling that Snape had awakened within you. With just one look into his eyes, you were melting back into your old ways.

You heard the creaking of a chair shift beside you as a gentle mass poked your side. "A'right down there?" Hagrid questioned quietly, noticing your subtle change in demeanour. You were suddenly stiff in your seat.

"Yeah, yeah, fine thanks, Hagrid." You cleared your throat, avoiding those two addicting pools of inky-black.

"Hmm." Hagrid hummed beside you, obviously skeptical about your curt response. He let his eyes flick to where you were previously looking, his stomach sinking as he spotted the broody cause of your sudden mood change. Hagrid didn't bother pressing you for answers, he knew you had enough on your plate, and he would rather you come to him. The last time you spoke about your problems regarding Snape, you were in tears, or you would burst into tears, there wasn't really an inbetween.

Silently, you were thankful that the newly-appointed professor beside you chose to keep shtum.

As you glanced back to where Snape sat, he was completely avoiding your eyes too, however, as you continued looking over in his direction, the wave of a hand beside the Potions Master caught your eye. Flicking your gaze to the right, you noticed it was Lupin waving sheepishly at you, a kind smile tugging at his scarred lips. You returned his smile and waved back, turning to the professors beside you as he glanced away from you.

"Professor Lupin seems to be a kind soul." You commented outloud, a genial smile upon your lips. McGonagall glanced at you, eyeing your curiously.

"Yes," She agreed slowly, her eyes gently dissecting you. "Have you met before?"

"No, I just bumped into him a couple nights ago, by my door."

"Yer' door?" Hagrid repeated in an octave higher than usual, intrigued.

"He just happened to be there when I walked out." You frowned, wide eyes looking up at the gigantic man, trying to understand what he was insinuating.

"Right, right." Hagrid quickly said, almost awkwardly as his cheeks reddened a tad, averting his eyes from your suspicious ones. Minerva's lips quirked into a small, amused smirk as she glanced between you and Hagrid. "Well, this food looks delicious, ay?" He cleared his throat, raising his brows as he glanced down at your plates that were now burdened with a generous amount of steaming hot meat and vegetables. You couldn't help but laugh softly to yourself at Hagrid's awkwardness. It was sweet to you.

Before you let yourself indulge in the plate full of food in front of you, you dared to look in the direction of a certain gloomy individual. Snape had already begun to eat, which surprised you. He usually takes a few bites and retires to his office, but this time, he'd stayed. You frowned to yourself as you stared at him, observing the glum way he kept to himself, avoiding any kind of conversation. Once more, you found yourself yearning for him. And yet again, your heart and mind were telling you two different things.

"Isn't that a Mimbulus Mimbletonia plant, professor?" Came Neville Longbottom's curious voice, his inquisitive eyes dragging over the plant you held cautiously in your arms. A cheery smile graced your lips as you nodded at the boy.

"Yes, indeed it is, Mr Longbottom." You said proudly, inducing a thrilled smile from Neville. "Can anyone tell me what it's uses are?" You asked, glancing around your greenhouse at mostly confused faces. You had an inkling that none of them would know the answer, perhaps apart from Hermione or Neville, who you noticed seemed to excel in Herbology. Though, Hermione wasn't in your class this morning. So to you, it was all down to Neville.

"Stinksap, right?" Neville answered quickly, his bunny-like teeth sticking out from underneath his top lip as he stared at you, awaiting your reply.

"Correct, and what can we use stinksap for?" You questioned, your smile widening at Neville. A sense of accomplishment suddenly tickled your body - maybe your students were listening to you and learning. You were a little worried that you hadn't exactly made an impact on them. As you got lost in your fretting thoughts, a light voice you weren't familiar with caught your attention. You turned towards the dark-haired girl, her deep blue eyes lighting up with confidence as she retrieved you from the abyss that you unfortunately called your mind.

"Stinksap can be used in certain potions as it contains very good healing properties," Alisa Arumina spoke up, earning a tilt of your head. You nodded at her, encouraging the girl to continue. "However, you have to be extra cautious when handling such a plant as this one since it will squirt out rather rancid smelling sap. Hence the name, stinksap." She finished, a sheepish smile upon her lips. You grinned proudly at her.

"Yes, lovely! Ten points to Ravenclaw, Miss Arumina." You carefully placed the plant down upon the table you were all gathered around. Before you could continue on to explain how to care for it, a distraught sounding voice called from behind you, at the door to your greenhouse.

"Professor L/N," Madam Pomfrey called out, her voice shaky. Immediately, you spun around with a worried frown upon your face. She sighed. "There's been an accident, do you have any mature Mandrakes ready for use? A Wiggenweld potion is required at once." Madam Pomfrey's eyes looked afraid. This must be serious, what the hell happened? You thought as your heart began to anxiously pick up in pace.

"Err," You stumbled over your words, blinking quickly. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll have them delivered to you immediately." You nodded in a poor attempt to assure the terrified look upon Madam Pomfrey's face. It didn't work.

"I'm afraid Professor Snape has asked for you to go to him right away." She said regretfully. Of course he fucking did, you groaned inwardly. 

"Is it so hard for you to come and retrieve the Mandrakes yourself?" You demanded as you burst through Snape's classroom door, your irked eyes finding Snape's startled ones. Though, just as quickly as he had looked startled by your sudden entry to his room, he had returned back to his usual angry glare, shooting it directly at you.

"Is it so hard for you to knock before entering?" Snape grunted at you, rubbing his fingers in circles against his temples. He lifted a hand and patted the empty space on his desk beside him. "Place the mandrakes here." You scrunched up your nose at him in disgust,

"I'll put them there once you tell me what the hell is going on."

"Your dear friend, Professor Rubeus Hagrid, thought it wise to introduce the children to a hippogriff on their first lesson together." Snape sneered as he rose from his desk in a slow and intimidating manner, his hands splayed out across the deeply grooved, dark wood surface. "I knew he was an oaf, but I at least thought he had retained some form ofhuman intelligence. Perhaps even common sense!" He exclaimed, his brows glued together in fury. Your brows mirrored his own as he insulted your friend. "A student was injured, Professor L/N, a student of my house." Ah, so that's why he's so upset. "Draco Malfoy." Riiight, it's adding up now, you thought, your anger simmering down slightly at the utterance of a student being injured.

You knew Hagrid wasn't incompetent, he was smart enough to not put students in the way of danger, but maybe this was a very big mistake. Perhaps he was too... eager. A hippogriff is a highly dangerous animal, especially if the students are not taught how to approach one beforehand. A strained sigh left your nostrils as you clenched your jaw, averting your eyes from a fuming Snape.

"Is he alright?" You asked, hesitating. "Hopefully he didn't lose a limb..." You muttered whilst perching yourself down upon a stool to your right.

"By the grace of the gods, Malfoy's arm was merely scratched," Snape seethed, clearly still very angry. Maybe it'd be best if you just left now, you did leave your class unsupervised for this visit. The thought of being a hypocrite niggled at your mind as you thought back to the time you'd chastised Lockhart for doing the same thing. But, this wasn't the same thing right? This was urgent, his was... whatever, you're better than that babbling, bumbling baboon anyway.

"So, it wasn't even a big injury...?" You repeated, frowning. "A little... scratch and you're almost losing your hair over it?"

"I think you're missing the point, Professor L/N, as always," Snape scoffed at you, earning a resentful glare from your eyes. "Hagrid has proved himself to be incapable of handling a class safely. I mean, a student injured and sent to the hospital on the very first lesson? Seems like a bad omen, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, please, Snape," A frustrated, heavy sigh left your nostrils again as you glanced to the side. "It's his first day!" You laughed incredulously, defending your friend. Sure, Hagrid might have misjudged this lesson by a smidge, however, you knew he would never put students in harms way.

"His first day, and his incompetency has resulted in injury!" Snape replied bitterly. He clearly didn't like Hagrid, and it was very obvious. He only ever spoke bad about the man, and it angered you. Hagrid was more than just an... 'oaf'. "Those... beasts... should have never been allowed at Hogwarts, regardless." Snape's nose crinkled in disgust.

"Give him the benefit of the doubt!" You cried out at Snape hopelessly. "And Buckbeak is a perfectly good hippogriff, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"How would you know that?" Snape's lips curled up into a distasteful sneer once again. Your cheeks ran hot as rage boiled beneath them at his comment.

"Because I know Buckbeak, Snape," You seethed at him with your fists balled, "Buckbeak would never do such a thing unless he felt threatened or insulted!" A hand flew up to wipe at your face, your breathing becoming ragged and hopeless. As you glanced back at Snape, he paused for a moment, his lips curling into an amused, incredulous smirk at your words. He couldn't believe what had just fallen from your mouth. Did he hear you correctly? Were you truly so delusional?

"You 'know' Buckbeak? Don't be absurd, Y/N." Snape huffed at you, his eyes narrowing as the corners of his lips tugged downwards disdainfully. "Buckbeak is a wild creature, it is hopelessly foolish of you to believe you can understand, much less, tame one!" He said, strained, his knuckles turning white from the aggressive, vice-like grip he had on his desk.

"These creatures are deeper than you think, Snape," you frowned, eyes stormy and reckless, unknowingly searching for trouble. His long fingers flew up to massage the bridge of his nose, clearly growing more fed up by the second. "Perhaps you'd understand if you had a heart within that empty chest of yours." A curt, exasperated sigh tore from your nostrils. Though, before you could take back your words, a blanket of regret wrapped itself around your seething body, your once-stormy eyes widening a tad as the realisation of what you had just uttered began to seep in. The sudden silence in the room was unbearably thick.

Snape's eyebrow twitched as he raised his head. Slowly, he fixed you with a dark, scrutinising gaze, rendering you speechless. Your body froze. "Bold, today, are we?" Snape's deep, stinging voice cut through the quietness like razors, reaching your ears like a thousand sharp pins.

You didn't answer him, fearing you might provoke him further. You'd never seen him like this. Dark, unnerved, fervent. It was terrifying to you. Perhaps you did cross the line. Gods, what had you done? Couldn't you have just brought the Mandrakes and sodded off? Jesus.

Snape marched towards you without a word, his cloak billowing out behind him like a flag. You couldn't help but notice the fury emanating from every single inch of his body, prompting your cheeks to flare up in a wild, raging blush. You had no time to defend yourself from Snape's long, cold and slender fingers as they clutched your jaw in force, shooting a frightening yet delicious shiver down your spine. A soft surprised gasp escaped your throat as he pushed you off of the stool you were sat on, a loud bang breaking through the silence as it clattered to the floor. Your back was instantaneously pressed against the table behind you as Snape shoved your backwards from the hold of your jaw, your eyes pooling with sudden panic as his fingers tightened against your skin, bound to leave marks. Fearfully, the palms of your hands flew to steady yourself against the edge of the table he'd rammed you against; your back arched painfully as he leaned right into your face, a spine-chilling scowl adopting his features.

The two of you were mere inches away from each other. Snape bared his teeth at you in a sneer, almost like he was revolted by your presence. He let his thumb slip upwards from your chin to the skin just beneath your bottom lip, pressing it against your teeth. Your eyes were forced to stare into his, his ones cold and penetrating in a way that only Snape's could be. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears that at this point that you were afraid you'd go deaf. 

Both of your chests heaved laboriously, leaning against one another, like you'd just sprinted for a mile without stopping for a break. As you stared into Snape's threatening eyes, you felt your body numb, his signature scent of sweet wine, books and smoke invading your nose like it was nothing. Against your will, your body welcomed it and you felt yourself relapsing from the addicting smell. With wild eyes locked together, you saw something else swimming in his wicked, black eyes. They almost looked pained, helpless, maybe even like they were... yearning? Your eyes flicked over his face gradually, slowly drinking him in. Whilst the two of you stared at each other, trapped between one another's body, a fluttering sensation slowly materialised in your gut, prompting your eyes to fall to Snape's angry, quivering lips. The undeniable urge to press your lips against his own was scratching at you like a desperate caged animal. You inhaled sharply and blinked, averting your hungry eyes back to his own, distracting yourself from such thoughts. Again, you found yourself lost in him.

Before you even had a chance to look deeper, Snape's bone-chilling voice tore you from your thoughts. You felt as if he'd noticed you spotting something deeper lingering within him.

"Get. Out." Snape spat, roughly releasing you from his grip, your hand flying up to soothe your aching jaw. You stood there, your arched back and splayed out hands against the edge of the wooden table, flabbergasted. Snape stalked back to his desk acting like the previous minute did not just happen. For once, you obliged and stood up straight, your feet immediately rushing forwards to carry yourself out of Snape's classroom in absolute silence, face blank with shock. As you shut the door behind you, you paused in your footsteps for a moment, eyes locked absentmindedly on the cobblestone ground in front of you.

What the fuck had just happened? Can the two of you no longer have normal interactions? You always have to be at each other's throats each time?

Your fingers lifted up to your face and traced where Snape's fingertips had been pressed into the skin on your jaw, a dull soreness emitting from the area as you touched it. That's definitely going to leave a mark.

Fuck.

You just hoped Ben didn't visit you for another week or so. There was absolutely no way you could explain this without it seeming super fucking suspicious. Oh jeez, Ben. How were you meant to face him when you'd just been on the verge of kissing Snape? It was just in the heat of the moment, obviously... Was it? Did he feel it too? No, of course he didn't, he looked like he wanted to kill you.

A frustrated groan bubbled in your throat as you stomped away from Snape's classroom door, heading back to your class.

Merlin, were you fucked.

Part 9!

hey guys.... i hope you enjoyed this part, i apologise again for how long it took me omfg. i'm ashamed. :( i just couldn't get the creative juices flowing, then i got covid (which im still battling). like bruh give me a BREAK PLEASE.

anyway, i already have part 9 planned out so i'm hoping it wont be as long to type up!! <3 love you guys.

please let me know what you thought!! also what are your patronuses if you have one?! mine is a snowy owl :)

taglist: (i hope i haven't missed anyone or added anyone by accidient!! if i have i'm sorry and please tell me!!)

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@allygranger

@nataliewalker93

[etheries1015]

Adult (20+) MC finally figures out how to properly make money, BESIDES working for Azul. Become not only the prefect and be a student, but an on the call designated therapist!

"Crowley, really. I'm far older than the other students, it is not my fault the mirror has brought you a full grown adult rather than another proper student! I finished all of my schooling where I am from, I do not wish to repeat it along side these....kids!" You had complained to him. Well, what was he to do? The mirror had obviously chosen you to be at that school, you had no other merits at the time to offer him, and to simply put it...without a way to go home, what else could possibly occupy your time in a world in which you know nothing about, than gather intel by throwing yourself into the most prestigious of schools? The answer seemed obvious at the time, until you realized just how bad it was.

Teenagers are still teenagers, after all. Especially a bunch of teenage boys surrounded by...well... Other teenage boys. Magic or not, they were still going through any other mental struggles as any normal human. However, putting magic into the mix had surely caused you some...extra unprecedented grief you had never needed to worry about in your world. After what, three? Four? Overblots and life endagerment exibitions, you had an epiphany. With extensive knowledge of the human brain system, life experience, and a plothera of coping mechanisms under your belt, what better way to open the door than to become none other than the designated student body therapist?

With some rather convincing techniques, you had managed to convince Crowley to, as you put it...

"Let me take this off of your plate! You are so busy being such an amazing head master running this school as perfectly as you are, I understand the durasic increase of overblots have your hands tied behind your back! As you know, I am an adult with ample experience in the field of mental health. Although I don't have the documents to prove it as much at this time seeing as they are back in my world....I just know you will not regret hiring me as a therapist."

A few more convincing lines (and perhaps a week of pestering, begging, manipulating-- I mean convincing , he had eventually hired you as the school therapist! With, of course, the expectation that you had to take an additional class to further certify you were able to properly do such a job. (You were kind of mad a bout that, seeing as you knew you were qualified, but hey. Pick and choose your battles I guess. At least you managed to get by with a couple additional classes, instead of a million years of schooling.)

You had a personal office in ramshackle, an empty dorm becoming suitable with your own personal desk, computer, book shelf, and another necessities. You had a location in the main building, the room connected to the nurses office had been refurnished as your main office. Book shelves of self care, items for fiddling with, bean bags, posters with encouraging words, and a desk full of papers, along with other needed items graciously funded by the school (you threatened Crowley at one point, accusing him of not caring of his students.) Of course, being on call meant students may drop by the dorm at any given time for your aid and expertise, so the ramshackle dorm lounge was also redecorated suited for sessions that were a bit more casual.

But of course, you also managed to juggle your studies as a student, wanting to continue to learn about magic. Working on the call was nice, keeping your phone on and excusing yourself whenever official work called for you. Unless you rather not be a student, that is fine, too. Full time therapist work may be the job for you!

Helping students heal one tragic back story at a time seemed perfectly fitting. (You just wanted to finally get paid and recognized for what you were already doing.)

[bluepeachstudios]

Not the Soft (Ame Writes)

Guys I swear this isn't the soft I promised-- I wrote. A Ghost. As part of the @tmntaucompetition and as a way to cope with @somerandomdudelmao's absolutely devastating last update to their apocalypse series. Cause it sat in my head a little too long.

It is sad. Sorry. <3

Once more, Ghost was somewhere he didn’t want to be. Another portal to fall through, another swarm of alternate versions. It was different this time. More of them were kids, they weren’t all from the boys’ realities. He’d even seen a few from his own. He avoided them now, like the plague. He couldn’t stand to be near them, couldn’t stand to see them happy like that. It hurt too much.

He saw a few he recognized from the last interdimensional competition. The grown up Mikey who handed Leo a bat was familiar. The kids with the actual ghost were familiar. The older Leo and little Leo both missing arms and passing out water bottles were familiar. The computer Donnie was familiar, but he didn’t want to think about what had led to that, just as he didn’t want to think of it last time.

It wasn’t a shock when he spotted the next familiar group. He recognized them the easiest from their robot Raph, but he almost didn’t. Their demeanor was so different from when he’d last seen them, cheering Tello on.

Just one look over them and he knew.

Grief was so easy for him to see now. As much as they were trying to hide it, to brush it off to people who asked, he could see it in their eyes, in their shoulders. They were so different.

The first thing he felt was an unbelievable loss.

It felt like just last month he’d held Tello’s hand and smiled at the crowd. Hugged him once they’d escaped prying eyes. Told him to be better than Ghost had been.

His grown son from another dimension, one who didn’t even know him, was dead.

It hit him like a knife, a wet thud into his heart. Some part of him screamed in his head, drowning out all the other noise, all the other turtles but the three that had been left behind. He felt the desperate urge to find his own Donnie, to check that he was breathing to hear his heartbeat, to listen to his voice, feel his hands in his own.

Ghost swallowed it. Swallowed the grief that was seeing his child dead, even in another world, in another dimension, another time. Swallowed the scream. Swallowed the urge to ground himself with Donnie. He didn’t want to scare him.

He didn’t want to scare any of them, yet there he was, just watching the three turtles and their human companions.

He couldn’t bring himself to approach them. It felt unfair. It felt like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to be seeing; a version of his family after they’d lost their Donatello. He felt like he didn’t deserve this, like this was some window into what had happened after he’d disappeared. Like he was intruding.

They had lost their Donatello, and he was a Donatello who was lost.

Promise me you won’t let anything happen to them.

I guess that’s just what we do.

He’d been so caught up in telling Tello to take care of his family he’d forgotten the most important part of the whole thing.

Take care of yourself.

Guilt crashed through him. Guilt on his own behalf, guilt on Tello’s. He wasn’t responsible for every Donatello in every version of themselves, but sometimes it felt like he was the cause of it all. Like he was the first, the one who had doomed every Donatello to a fate of being lost, to a fate of failing to protect their family.

He added another soul to grieve on his shoulders. Another photograph he couldn’t have. Another life he couldn’t speak of.

He meant to walk away, but Leonardo spotted him across the arena. Recognition made him perk up for a moment, and then his expression fell as he saw the knowing look in Ghost’s eyes.

Ghost took a breath. They met in the middle.

It was like fitting a piece into a puzzle where the picture didn’t match.

He didn’t know what else to do but murmur a soft, “I’m so sorry.”

He was apologizing for so much more than just the loss of Tello. He was apologizing to them and his own brothers. To every version of them that Donatello had failed.

Then Mikey gave him a worried look, and it felt all so unfair again. Some part of himself that made him ill wanted to know how Tello died, what they’d done to prevent it, what hadn’t worked. He wanted to know how they were holding up, what they were doing without Tello, how they were functioning, if they were functioning at all.

He squashed the selfish part of himself, the part that wanted to know if his family could have felt the same ways. These were a version of his kids, and here he was with the urge to interrogate them about their brother’s death.

Ghost swallowed it. Mikey still gave him a sad smile.

“He was with us,” Mikey said softly. “In our arms. He went peacefully, in his sleep.”

Ghost’s expression twisted from the flat gaze he’d managed to hold. God, that was his son saying that. That was his son that had died. Not them exactly, but enough like them that it felt like he was being told his children had died in a war that he wasn’t allowed to be a part of.

He couldn’t even cry for them. It felt unfair to be so upset, to be so ruined over a Donatello that wasn’t even his.

He swallowed it.

“He loved you all so much,” Ghost whispered. Even that felt unfair to say, but he knew, and he needed them to know. He needed them to know.

“We know,” Leo replied. He touched the hilt of the sword at his waist, running a shock of purple fabric through his fingers.

Ghost took a breath. It felt like he had to force himself to breathe, like he had forgotten how. Instinctively, he signed, circling his fist over his chest in an apology, thinking they were the same as his kids, that they could read sign language somehow.

He pressed his hand over his chest and got control of his breathing again. Found his voice. “That’s good.”

He hoped the depth of it all didn’t show on his face. He was trying to keep his expression as flat as possible, but it felt like he’d lost someone important. He wasn’t great at dealing with that.

Obviously. He’d been grieving for 24 years.

“I’ll see you guys around,” Ghost whispered, bowing his head slightly. A small, polite gesture he picked up from his own father.

He turned and walked away.

He couldn’t bring them anything but more grief.

There was no solace in his words he could offer, no pain he could lessen with his presence.

He was the wrong missing piece.

He couldn’t fill their void just like they couldn’t fill his.

His son was dead.

His brothers were gone.

The world was ending but continuing on.

He swallowed it and pulled his hood up.

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 9

Hello, everyone! We are almost to the end. I have all twelve parts completed and will be posting them every Thursday until the story is fully published.

So what's next? With Royal Pain being done as well, I'm going to try and finish Well Met By Moonlight and Find Your Shade By the Moonlight. I will be back working on the soulmate AU Batshit Soulmate and the next book in the Boy with a Bat series called Never Hold Back Your Step for a Moment. I'm also starting that omegaverse story I thought up here.

We meet Steve's family and find out more about why Steve's parents didn't like that side of the family much.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

Eddie and Steve wandered around town for a couple of hours, doing a little sightseeing, a little shopping, and a lot just being themselves for a moment or two.

Soon it was getting close to time and they headed to the diner. They pulled up and got a booth.

Eddie and Steve slid into one side and told the waitress that they were waiting for someone and to just grab them a couple of waters.

The waitress nodded and quickly came back with the waters.

They didn’t have to wait long before Percy came through the door, the little bell announcing his arrival.

Steve waved him over and he smiled in return, hurrying over to the table. Once he was settled he told the waitress they were waiting on one more but if they could get a pot of coffee and two cups please. Eddie and Steve both got sodas.

“Who are we waiting for?” Steve asked nervously.

Percy twisted the ring on his ring hand, looking down at the table. “A friend.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, wide-eyed.

Eddie wrote something down on a paper napkin and slid it over to Percy.

Percy took the napkin with frown and then he gasped. “Both of you?”

“Both for me,” Steve murmured.

“Just men for me,” Eddie added.

Percy glanced around the diner nervously, but no one was paying any attention to them at all.

“Oh.” He let out a shuddering breath. “Just him.” He pointed to someone walking up to the diner through the window.

He was a tall man, thin. Long black hair, braided to the small of his back. He wore a suit just as nice as Max’s in a beautiful silver color.

He came over when Percy waved at him. He slid next to Percy and looked Steve and Eddie over.

“Who are these boys, Percy?” he asked gravely.

“This my nephew, Steven and his friend...” Percy began.

Eddie stuck out his hand. “Eddie. Eddie Munson. We’re actually in Kentucky because of my own grandma’s funeral. Steve wanted to come visit his grandma’s grave so we took a drive.”

“Where you from?” Percy asked. “I catch a bit of twang to your voice.”

Eddie grinned. “Indiana mostly, but my family’s from Ashland.”

Percy smiled. “Nice town.”

Steve smiled. “It has been so far.”

“This is David Estevez,” Percy said, shyly. “The reason you’re parents haven’t spoken to me in over a decade.”

“Ah,” Steve said. “Yup, Clint Harrington is a lot of things, but tolerant isn’t one of them and of course my mom just went along with it. Even though it’s her money and her family.”

Eddie clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Let’s see, not white, not from here, judging from the accent, and not straight... anything I missed?”

David burst out laughing. “Not the right kind of rich. I’m a self-made man. I worked hard to be where I am today and they hate that. I grew up poor in New Mexico and made my money building computers in my mom’s basement. Now, I’m a multi-millionaire CEO of a major tech company.”

“Dustin would love you,” Steve and Eddie said together.

“Who?” David asked with a chuckle.

“He’s this kid we know,” Eddie explained. “He built a CB tower just so he could talk to his girlfriend in Utah and not rack up his mom’s phone bill.”

“He sounds like fun,” Percy said, rolling his eyes.

David dug his fingers into Percy’s side, causing him to squirm and squeak. “As if you wouldn’t love it if I did that for you.”

Percy blushed. “Maybe.”

He cleared his throat. “How are your parents, Steven? I saw on the news that there was a horrible earthquake last March.”

Steve gulped and Eddie gave his hand a squeeze.

“I really wouldn’t know,” he mumbled, looking down at the table, tucking his hands between legs. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

David and Percy shared a glance.

“They did come back after the earthquake, right?” Percy pressed. “To see if you were all right if nothing else.”

Steve shook his head. “They didn’t come home when I was caught in the mall fire, why would they come home for something as inconsequential as an earthquake?”

“Mall fire?” Percy asked.

“You remember, darling,” David said, “the one from last year where there were thirty people who died?”

Percy expression cleared as understanding dawned, and then it turned horrified. “They didn’t come home for that?”

Steve shook his head again. “They didn’t come home when I got a concussion so bad I was out for several hours, or anytime I got hurt.” He rubbed a scratch that was in the surface of the table mournfully.

“Mom follows Dad around to make sure he keeps it in his pants. Not that it deters him,” he explained. “I heard him bragging once about how it’s a game to him now to see what he can get away with.”

The waitress appeared with their drinks. “Are you guys ready to order?”

“I’m not hungry,” Steve murmured.

The rest of them ordered, with Eddie ordering a side of cheese fries in addition to his regular side of fries.

Once the waitress had gone, Percy leaned forward. “How long has this been going on?”

“The trips started when I fourteen or so,” he continued. “But the older I got, the longer the trips were, until they just stopped coming home sometime around Christmas of last year.”

“Stevie...” Eddie whined. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Steve shrugged. “I’m an adult. It’s not as though I’m a kid anymore.”

Percy took his hand in his. “No, Steven. That’s not how parenting works. Ever. They’re supposed to care about you enough to at least tell you were they’re going and when they’ll be home.”

Steve looked up and into his uncle’s eyes. “The money changed them. They haven’t been my parents in over a decade. I’ve just been this trophy they pulled out whenever it suited them. Had to be first in everything. I’m surprised they only let me get away three sports instead of making me try everything.”

Eddie looked stricken. “The sports weren’t your idea?”

Steve shook his head. “It was a way that they could legally pawn me off to other adults. Probably the reason for all the piano lessons and the tutoring. How I met Nancy by the way. Gotta have the best grades, until someone puts a plate through my head, then I was just as disappointing as they feared I would be.”

Everyone else at the table let out noises of distress.

“You never should have had to go through that,” David whispered fiercely. “Ever. I’m sorry your parents were awful.”

Steve shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad. I have had adults in my life that cared about me. The Chief of Police always kept an eye on me. Dad stopped hitting me after the second time Hop, Chief Hopper, I mean brought me home after...” he trailed off and looked anywhere but at the people in the booth with him.

He cleared his throat.

Their food arrived and that last sentence was left to dangling in the air like the sword of Damocles over their heads.

Percy watched as Eddie pushed the side of cheese fries between him and Steve, taking a bite periodically, but mostly focusing on the rest of his food.

Steve reached out and took one of the fries, chewing mindlessly. And then another and then another.

David smirked when Percy indicated to what Steve was doing.

Eddie pushed them in front of Steve and he just dug into them like a starving man. He took half of his burger and handed it to Steve, too.

Steve took the half with a blush. “Thanks, Eds,” he said softly.

Eddie just smiled fondly and finished his half of the burger.

David started talking to Percy to help fill the silence and soon the sense of dread dissipated as they fell into easy conversation.

Soon they were done and their plates taken away.

David lifted his chin to indicate to Steve. “Where did you learn that if you got cheese fries Steve would eat?”

Eddie and Steve glanced at each other and Steve blushed.

“Is that what he did?” he muttered.

Eddie laughed. “It’s trick I learned from his best friend. When he’s upset he won’t eat, even when he needs to, but if you put something like cheese fries or onion rings near him, he’ll graze until it kick starts his appetite again.”

Steve looked over at him in shock. “Holy shit, I never realized. Who else does that?”

Eddie smiled at him, that closed mouth, fond smile that he was got around Steve. “Dustin and Max mostly. But El and Will have been known to do it once or twice.”

Steve blinked.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of people that care about you, Steven,” Percy said with a grin.

Steve nodded, blushing. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He looked at his watch and sighed. “How’s this,” he said, “why don’t you use that business card I gave you when you get home and David and me will come out to visit you for a few days?”

Steve lit up. “Yeah? You’d do that?”

Eddie grinned. Steve had just gotten his boyhood wish of having an uncle that cared and he could feel the joy and surprise radiating off his friend.

“I’d love to,” Percy said. “I would love to meet your family.”

Steve grinned. “You’ll love them.”

David smiled, too. “I’m sure we will.”

They got up and hugs were passed around everyone and they said their goodbyes.

“Goodbye Uncle Percy,” Steve said, his voice a little rough with emotion. “Bye, Uncle David. I’ll see you both soon.”

David looked happy and shocked at being called Uncle. Jasper’s daughter would never. But here was this nineteen year old boy whom his partner hadn’t spoken to in literal years being more caring and decent after a single afternoon with him, then Beatrice had her whole life.

So he did the only thing he could, he hugged Steve again, more fiercely this time. “Thank you.”

Steve nodded. He wasn’t sure exactly why David was so grateful, but he understood enough.

As Steve and Eddie walked away, Percy and David watched them get into their car.

“How long do you think it’ll take before those boys realize they’re in love with each other?” David asked.

“I don’t know Eddie very well,” Percy said, thoughtfully, “but I imagine they’ll figure it out before we come visit Hawkins.”

David hummed. If he was a betting man, he would have said the end of the week.

But he just had to wait and see.

****

Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster

[yeti-zeus]

it has a couple pop ups but you should be good if you just close them as they pop up, I pirate stuff constantly and I have never had any problems

As someone who has spent too much time on this website and who's favorite movie is Wings of Desire, I really need the new Supernatural news of the week to be for them to finally admit Castiel was cobbled together from Damiel's story arc, Cassiel's name, and Columbo's outfit.

[seokmthw]

happy birthday, idiot | kim gyuvin

⇢ pairing: gyuvin x reader

⇢ warnings: fluff, kinda enemies to lovers?, mutual crushes

⇢ word count: 668

⇢ note: happy birthday to this silly boy, and thank you to the lovely @zerobaselove for this idea. wishing gyuvin nothing but the best on his special day today <3

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you sighed, glancing down at the slice of cake in your hand, it’s stupid blue icing and piped white border causing you to rethink your entire decision of even purchasing it – all he did was pester you and make it impossible to get anything done at work. you couldn’t stand him, really, so what possessed you to even consider buying him a piece of cake for his birthday, let alone spend your hard earned money on it? you weren’t entirely sure, yet there you were with it anyway. 

shaking your head, you exited the elevator upon it’s ‘ding!’ and onto the floor of your office, your bag slightly slipping off of your shoulder and your grip on the cake plate weakening almost too much. thankfully, you were able to save it, aggressively adjusting your bag with a heave of your breath. it was all his fault your lunch break ended terribly and you were now almost 15 minutes late returning to your shift. 

you quickly scanned your id badge and entered into the bustling office, many people standing in their friend groups and fully wrapping up their lunches. thank god your supervisor was lenient, you thought to yourself as you shuffled over to your desk, plopping down the piece of cake on his before you fully sat down. you pretended not to see the confused expression painted across his face, and instead logged back into your computer to finish up a report that was due by the end of the day. 

“oh y/n~” there his voice was, in it’s annoying, sing-song tone, “you remembered?”

“pft, no. i just stole it,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. you knew this was going to happen and you knew you had that report to get done, so why on earth would you enable him? you were still searching for the answer and couldn’t come up with anything in your head, so you decided to simply press your lips into a line and zone in on your work.

a quiet chuckle erupted past his lips as he popped the plastic covering off of the container, rather loudly at that, and dug into his cake. he remained quiet, and for a brief moment you thought you were out of the woods, but this was kim gyuvin and he never understood the definition of silence. especially around you.

“i can’t believe you got me a gift,” he mused, annoyingly licking his fork clean after every single bite of the cake he took, “and in my favorite color!”

you shifted your eyes in his direction, suppressing a loud laugh at the look of the way the blue icing was staining his entire mouth. maybe this was a good idea, especially considering he had a meeting he needed to attend within the next half an hour. finally, you told him, “don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

“this cake says otherwise!” he exclaimed, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, eyes dead set on you to better gauge your reaction in an attempt to prove himself right. 

you huffed quietly, this time being the one with the mischievous grin, “yeah yeah, whatever. you have icing all over your face, idiot, might want to get that cleaned up before your meeting.”

gyuvin’s eyes grew as wide as saucers in bewilderment, his fingers hurriedly swiping on his phone to open up his camera and see the damage for himself. his jaw fell slack in shock, his expression a mixture of many different emotions, “damn it, y/n, why would you do this to me?”

“nobody ever said you had to eat it now.”

“i’ll get you back for this, mark my words,” he fired. sure, gyuvin was annoying, and sure getting back at him after all of the grief he’s put you through was satisfying, but instead of retaliating back a second time, you just let him have the last word. 

besides, it was his birthday, maybe you could cut him some slack.

[ikamigami]

I believe what Dark Sun told Foxy is true.

Maybe it's because of what he said about our Sun not surviving..

This.. I think that this cements it for me that Dark Sun isn't actually that bad.

I mean I think that he's not telling the full truth when he says that he only cares about his own ass.

Cause I think that he cares about something here. In our dimension. Or maybe about someone?

It might be just my wishful thinking but what if Dark Sun feels some kind of sentiment towards our Sun?

Cause when he was watching a bits from the channel it seemed to me as if he saw there something that he maybe wanted to be with his Moon or maybe he just in our Sun something he lost after all these times Moon refused to cooperate..

We were wondering on Discord when I still was active there how Dark Sun would feel about our Sun if he met him.

We didn't have them meeting each other and while Dark Sun didn't state that he hates our Sun for being a punching bag or that he feels a bit sympathetic towards him or that he doesn't care about him at all.. I feel like those little bits show that Dark Sun might actually feel sorry for our Sun.

I mean cause look, he told Moon that he should be worried about Sun and let him know where Sun is.. even though he could just simply say for example "don't worry about your dear Sun, check the lighthouse".. but he didn't. He said "you should be worried about Sun.."

And when Dark Sun was counting people who could built Eclipse - people who knows how to copy paste a personality - and he made a weird pause when he said Sun's name.. people thought that Sun is actually the one who is working with Ruin and helped him bring Eclipse back. But I think that Dark Sun hesitated because of how much our Sun doesn't believe in his own smarts. Sun can copy paste a personality - he did that with Moon's computer.. but remember how he said that it was just dumb luck?

And Dark Sun also said that Sun won't survive the aftermath of Ruin's "thanos' snap thing"..

And him watching their channel - he only later went to the episode with Ruin's interrogation - he was watching one of the games at first..

Doesn't it all seems odd to you? Why Dark Sun would be like that towards our Sun who "failed" in every way Dark Sun didn't?

Shouldn't he be angry at our Sun for being a doormat to everyone? For not being able to stand up for himself? Not being able to speak his mind to Moon?

Does Dark Sun might actually feel sorry for our Sun?

Maybe, and it might be my wishful thinking once again, Dark Sun isn't angry at our Sun because he.. gaah I can't find the right word xp..

Maybe Dark Sun admires, is sentimental about Sun's kindness?

I can't word it out how I want for the love of all that exist QwQ

What I mean is that Sun has this kindness and lots of empathy which is what Dark Sun lost. And I think that maybe Dark Sun feels some sort of grief.. for lack of better word.. it's like he's grieving who he was.

Cause like many people speculated me included that Dark Sun just became so cold, distant and emotionally detached to be able to stay on his ground, to be able to cut off the toxic people from his life - Moon literally and creator and Stitchwraith got killed. He has his peace but at what cost?

I think that our Sun is for Dark Sun a bitter-sweet reminder of what he had to sacrifice in order to achieve his peaceful life. I think that our Sun reminds Dark Sun of how he used to be as if he was looking at his younger self.

You know what I mean? It's similar to when you see yourself in someone else and you see all those aspects of you that were sweet but they're gone and you're not like that anymore. And you can't help it but to feel sympathy towards that person.

I think that the same is with Dark Sun. I think that he feels a little bit of sympathy towards our Sun because of how Sun is still kind and compassionate and forgiving. And Dark Sun used to be like that as well. And now he looks at Sun and can't help but to feel sympathy towards him. And he can't help but to feel sorry for Sun because of how much Sun struggles all because of his kind heart.

And because Dark Sun has a star - and interdimensional star at that - he probably saw things from future and he saw that Sun will try to do something to himself. Or that's what I think is the case.

I might be wrong but for me it can't be a coincidence with the way Dark Sun is whenver he mentions our Sun.

And that's why I think that he might want to try to prevent this from happening. But will he be successfull? Will he be able to convince others to listen to him?

We shall see. I can't wait to see what showrunners have in store for us.

At the end I'll say that I'm really happy to see that Foxy tries to do better as a father of FC this time and that he took FC with him to try and if kid can help with anything awwwww 💗

Also I wonder what are they doing wrong with the way they're trying to bring Solar back.. maybe they need Eclipse's help? Hmmm..

Either way something interesting will happen on April 8th to say the least.. I can feel it.

[loverspeak01]

making slime with your bf

Jotaro x GN! Reader

Rate : soft

Summery : you and Jotaro Kujo make slime and ends up making a big mess.

Warning : non

master-list

(Inspired by BAKUDEKU slime)🥱

You opened the front door and walked to the living room, where jotaro was currently sitting down. “Welcome home, I make you lunch just in case you’re hungry.” Jotaro spoke up without looking away from his computer.

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” You replied dropping two heavy plastic bags.

“What’s that?” Jotaro questioned taking a look at you.

“Well, well, well, it must be your birthday cuz it’s your lucky day, we’re making slime!” “Good grief, y/n, slime? You expect me to play with childish shit?” He said with annoyance.

“Play with? Heavens no, I mean make slime, with your one and only.” I say taking out the glue and activator, following with food coloring. “Slime? You really want me to make that shit? Good grief Y/n.” He muttered, annoyed at the request.

He looks at you seeing if it was true until he saw the ultimate determination in your eyes. “Please, it’s just for a few minutes. If you don’t want to do it with me then I’ll js go ask josuke and his friends, since they’re more fun than you, Jotaro Kujo.”

You hear him sigh under his breath, “Fine, only to prove that I can be fun. Just don’t be annoying for heavens ears.” Hearing this made you jump in happiness.

“Yeaaah!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You say with joy as you give him a peck or two on the cheek, making him blush and smile.

You two started on mixing the glue and activator together, laughing and giggling here and there. A moment that Jotaro will never admit of enjoying it himself.

That was until you were mixing in the glue and activator together and noticed how messy your hands surprisingly were. You unfortunately let the intrusive thoughts loose and had wiped your hands off with Jotaros face.

Jotaro jumped at the feeling of your slimy and sticky hands rubbing in his face, “what the hell are you doing!?” He said giving you questioned and confused look.

“Hehe, cleaning my hands off with your face.” You giggled going back to mixing the slime with your hands.

“Good grief, Y/n. You’re an idiot” he groaned, wiping off the slime on his face. Jotaro grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, he leaned into your ear. “I’m going to get you back for that.”

“Hmmm..? How so-… JOTARO!” You stopped mid sentence and shouted as you felt jotaros, also messy, slimy and sticky hands brush through your hair.

“You’re going to have to deal with it, darling.” He said as he starts to tickle your waist with his messy hands.

Causing you to squirm and laugh, “Stop!- jotaro- HAHAHHA- please! I’m sorry- HAHGAAH, Jotaro!” You laughed out trying to get get his hands off you.

Jotaro stopped tickling you, he still hold you close as he rest his messy hands on your back, turning his always serious expression into a smile.

“You should really try smiling often.” You suggested, sneakily grabbing a handful of slime and slapped jotaros face with the thick amount. Right after you’ve done that your pulled from his hold and skedaddled, knowing his gonna hunt you for blood.

[sim-songs]

my life: an essay™️

I'm being dramatic, my update isn't that long lmao;

A big situation (shituation hehe) in my life has finally come to an end, which means a few things for me and my blogs right now which I will put in some handy dandy bullet points below;

the personal stuff list

I'm doing a lot better already, yay! This was causing me a lot of stress and grief over the last six or so months, to the point that I'm going to a physiotherapist for extra help.

I have a lot of arranging, cleaning and more to do in my life right now. I have all my belongings back now, but they were and are in big need of rearranging, organizing and cleaning.

The biggest thing I got back is my computer, which is a great thing that comes with a less great downside. Great thing; I have my pc back and don't have to save for a new one! Less great thing; I have to move all my stuff over AGAIN, and I've barely had the time or motivation to do any of it.

the sims and blog stuff list

Because of my point up there, my sims game isn't ready at all. It's installed and that's about it. I still have to download a shit ton of stuff and install my converting programs etc... so it's gonna take some time to get my game, and blog, up to speed.

I am super behind because on my cc blogs and seriously considering asking some people to help me moderate! Not sure yet tho.

I'm trying to keep up with released cc but there's a very real chance I've messed up or missed stuff. If there's anything you see (or don't see!) on my cc blogs @simfluencer-network or @matchsim please let me know!

[moominofthevalley]

Sempervirens

If all else fails, write some letters.

emily rose

teen | wc: 1.1k | cw: mentions of grief

a/n: first drabble of 2024. sorry it took so long. hope you enjoy ♡ banner credits from airidescence

It’s been ten years and I still don’t know where to put all this grief.

Uncle Tommy suggested I see a shrink, so I told him to fuck off. I promised him I’d write these stupid letters instead. Journaling, mindfulness, yoga - all that does nothing for me. This shit better work. Anyways. Here’s a list of things you never got to see.

I stopped playing soccer after a broken ankle - it was gnarly. I remember crying in the hospital all night.

My grades got somewhat better. I graduated high school. Somehow became the youngest person in the city to make the Homicide Division. It’s shit work. The captain is a bit of an ass. Tommy met her at a few holiday parties and it did not go well.

By the way, Tommy misses you too. A few weeks ago, we looked through the attic and found a bunch of old photo albums and VHS tapes. We spent all day looking through them. There was a picture of us sitting on your old couch - the black leather one with all the cigarette butts in the cup holders.

My head hurts writing this. We still have nothing for you. No evidence, no lead. Not any fingerprints. The files don’t have anything. I’m pissed. There has to be something. It’s been ten years without you and all that I have left are some old photos and beat-up jackets.

You need justice. I need answers.

We miss you so much. I’m going to stop writing before I throw up.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 09/10/19

* * * *

I had a fluffernutter sandwich this morning and thought of you.

Don’t know why I love it so much. I probably have a dozen cavities. I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter - so much has happened.

I quit the NYPD, how shocking. I found so much - probably enough to fire every cop in my precinct - but HR turned on me. Dead rats in my lockers. Side eyes from everyone. So I left. I spent two weeks on my ass, bartending at the Drunk Tank until Tommy made me chat with an old friend of his. Mafalda. I think you knew her too. It’s better here, if not way more chaotic. We have a computer guy named Luke, he’s pretty awkward. A bit pretentious. Terrible cook, too. But he lost his mom around the same time I lost you. There’s a forensic analyst named Ruby who stops by. She’s sweet, always reminding me I can talk to her if I need to. We went out for drinks last night and I honestly can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.

Also, I got rid of that stupid couch you loved. It was all ripped up and probably full of mold. Uncle Tommy and I spent a whole day looking for a new couch. I landed on this velvet green one with some fancy fringe at the bottom. Very bougie, I know.

You know, it’s annoying funny how people enter your life and insist on staying there. His name is Trystan Thorne and you’d love him. Uncle Tommy does, but I think it’s cause he buys him fancy donuts every morning. I wish you could meet him. I barged into his penthouse, beat his ass, and now we’re partners. Isn’t that weird? He’s infuriating, but it’s nice to have him around. Don’t tell him I said that. I told him some stories about you today and it felt so good to talk about everything.

Finally, some good news. We might have something for you. Some mafia leader named Big V. I told Tommy and Mafalda about her and they both think there’s a chance she did it. I hate that it’s taken so long to come up with just one possible lead. But I’d do anything to know what happened to you.

I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you more. I miss you so fucking much. Here’s to fifteen years without you.

Always surviving, Emily Rose 10/08/23

* * * *

It’s been only a few months since my last letter and so much has happened. Trystan was put on trial for a murder he didn’t commit. We had to fly half the team to Drakovia as a hail mary. Ended up playing a lawyer for a few minutes. it was weird.

I messed up so many times. Trystan and I fought over something we both knew the answer to. Sebastyan...Fuck. Vasili is dead. Every time I remember that look in his eye, I want to throw up.

Fuck.

It’s three am and Trystan is sleeping right next to me. He always listens to me talk about you. I keep imagining all the dinners and talks we could’ve had, just the three of us. You could’ve told him all your stupid jokes - like the one about eating a clock.

Tomorrow is my twenty-ninth birthday. Tommy told me he had something planned. I bet you ten bucks it’ll be a party at the Drunk Tank. I remember growing up, you guys would spend the entire night decorating the apartment with balloons. I hope Tommy isn’t doing that this year.

You’re here everywhere I go. I was doing laundry earlier and saw one of Tommy’s button-downs that used to be yours. It still smelled like you. I make coffee just the way you did - black. I have your small, round nose.

I hate that your life was taken from me. But I will find you at the end of mine. I love you, Dad. Come visit me sometime? Please.

Always living, Emily Rose 3/31/24

* * * * I’ve missed writing. I wrote this all in a day after I found the most devastating YouTube comment and just had to write something. Also, if you didn’t notice the start of the 2nd letter is a little reference to this fic. Anyway - there’s definitely more writing coming from me soon...Hope you enjoyed this angst xx

Click here for the masterlist of all my works so far! Tags: @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @stars-are-within-me@shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine @jahrobin @calisomnia @kyra75 @icarusfallsforever @inlocusmads @tessa-liam

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[silly-thinkings]

Escape! (Batmom in DCeased)

Time to run! Reader... did you read the first scene? i hope ya did, you got options! (Scene 1)

As you cradled yourself in the room, you realize that Alfred is somewhere in the manor. Your son Damian with with the Kent’s, Jason is probably ahead of the game and not dead. You cant just sit here! You get up as reach under the bed, you pull out a box that has escape equipment. Rope, a walkie-talkie with a bat symbol on it, and some mini toiletries. You head to the balcony and make sure the rope is secured before carefully descending yourself onto the ground. Once your feet were on the cool grass that’s when you realized that you were still in your night gown.

“Ok, Bruce is with the league. He must know what this is. He has to know what’s happening.”

You ran back inside in the manor and made a B-line to the grandfather clock. When you got in you saw your husband siting Infront of the computer screen. Watching Gotham's citizens tear each other apart. “Bruce!”

You’ve never moved so fast. As soon as Bruce stood from his seat you jumped into his arms. Sharing a deep kiss. Relief washed over you both. But it was only for a moment as the camera angle switched to another shot of the city. You pull back and look into his eyes

“are you ok?” His look of concern rattled you to your core as you remembered what had happened to your sons. You start to whale as you cried in his chest

“Bruce… they’re. Dick and Tim they’ve…”

Bruce closed his eyes and he held onto you tighter. He was too late. That’s when he realized that Alfred was in danger. “This is a virus transmitted through the internet. Computer! are the firewalls active?.”

“Not all of them sir.”

Bruce sucked his teeth “Damn it. EMP the house NOW!”

You held onto him as the manor above grew silent. “Stay here.” Bruce gave you a kiss on your hand before heading up the stairs. You look at the console desk to find a walkie with the bat symbol on it.

“Damian. Can you hear me?” You say in a somber tone. Honestly you didn’t expect an answer given how your other two sons turned.

“Ummi. Is that you.”

You felt your legs shake as you heard your youngest’s voice though the device “yes! Yes baby I’m here. Where are you? Are you safe. Don’t look at screens!” You cram all the important survival information that you’ve learned though sobs and choked laughter.

“Yes mother. I’m with the Kents. Superman has informed us. We’re at the daily planet.” Damian voice was cold yet concerned. You knew that his to the point attitude was a way to protect himself from grief. He probably put two and two together that somethings happened to his family. “Where is my father”

“Bruce went to get Alfred. He’s.” The sound of metal clanking caused you to turn around. To your horror Bruce is in one of Mr. Freezes suites with Alfred holding a shot gun close behind. “Don’t tell me… please don’t tell me you.”

Bruce responded with a curt nod. You look into his eyes, you see his pain. And without another word you pass the walkie to him while you go around the cave seeking out essentials. Two katanas, two hand guns. Smoke grenades. Anything you can carry on the move.

You stop at one of the normal looking spaces in the cave. It was a cozy relaxation space for the family when they came home from patrol. You would suture their wounds or scold them for being reckless in that space.

“I am so proud of you my son. I wish I would be with you see it.” You heard Bruce say his final goodbyes. To his son.

You grab the picture frame and walk to Alfred who stood at the ready. Whats next?

You place a hand over his “let me. Now find Damian. Please.” You take his shotgun.

You take the Batman case and look away as you hear your husbands growl. Gone from this world.

[racefortheironthrone]

Please innumerate for us the specialized problems of the library sciences.

Let me start with the caveat that my information is based on my experiences at the National Archives more than a decade ago, and policy has definitely changed on this front as we can see from this graph of recent digitization - apparently NARA wants to get to 85% digitization by 2026. (Even still, I'd note that the records of the WPA are <0.001% digitized.)

However, back when I was doing the research that would eventually become my first book, I remember being at the National Archives II building in College Park, Maryland (Go Terps!) and getting really frustrated that all the records of the WPA were only available in their original physical form and that all the guides and indexes were also in paper only and were all from the 1970s, and I asked the archivist why the hell the National Archives hadn't been digitized already.

This is what they told me: if it's handled correctly and stored in the right environmental circumstances, paper can last a thousand years. Carbon copies can last even longer, if they don't rip. (Seriously, the bastard things are like onion skins, they'll split if you look at them funny.) Microfilm is slightly more technologically advanced than paper, but it only lasts 500 years in the right conditions.

We've only had computers en masse since the 1980s, and already there's a huge amount of records (especially from the early years) that we don't have any more, because the hard drives got re-formatted due to higher costs of storage space back in the day, or because old computers got thrown out when they were replaced by newer models and the hard drives are all rotting in landfills somewhere, or because backwards compatibility broke down and we just can't read those file types on our modern computers, or because the actual data got corrupted on the disc, or because some legacy company is asserting copyright against a video game museum, or because some political hack and/or president of the United States decided to violate the Presidential Records Act.

While we thought that the internet would cause an explosion of written records from ordinary people on the scale of the advent of mass literacy, there are vast swathes of the early internet that simply do not exist any more because the servers got switched off when Geocities et al. folded in the dot-com bubble burst or when everyone migrated to Web 2.0, and the Internet Archive tries its best (bless its heart, affectionately) but it can't be everywhere and save everything.

As a result, the archivist told me, digitization is a fraught question: what file format do we use? How do we know that file format will still be compatible and backwards-compatible in 50 years? 100? Longer? Do we keep everything locally or store it on the cloud, and how do we ensure that the storage mechanisms won't fail if there's a blackout or a virus or whatever? Do we digitize everything now, or do we wait until optical character recognition improves enough to the point where digitized records can be searched for words and phrases? Etc.

Keep in mind, I am a public policy historian who studies the 20th century U.S - I work primarily with the official records and the central archives of the richest government in the world. From a library sciences perspectives, this is kind of an ideal scenario, and it's still kind of fucked up. (Let me tell you, the rage and grief I felt when I learned that most of the General File of the Public Works Administration was thrown away by the National fucking Archives and Records Administration in the mid-1950s because they were running out of shelf space in the D.C location and didn't think these records were important...)

Now imagine what it's like at a local historical society or a small liberal arts college, or the national museum of a developing nation for that matter, who do not have the resources for the kind of grand digitization project that NARA started doing five years ago. Think of the sheer scale of historical records that sleep, unseen and untouched perhaps for decades and perhaps for ever, in little cubbyholes all across the world. Among professionals, historical records are measured in linear and cubic feet - think about that for a second, how many pages of paper there are in a foot when you stack them up, and how many hundreds and thousands and millions of feet there are across the face of the world. Think of all the millions of feet of pieces of paper that have been lost to us because of fire or rot or war or time itself.

This is why Peter Turchin is a quack. Historical records are not a standardized little database for social scientists to plug their fucking spreadsheets into; historians don't play that kind of bullshit t-ball, with all our data neatly packaged and handed to us on a silver platter. Our profession is not a social science, it's a goddamn treasure hunt through boxes that were never catalogued or categorized (or that were re-catalogued so many times no one remembers how they were put together in the first place) to find writing that no one has read since the authors died. All of us know that our work, our understanding, will always be partial and limited, because memory is infinitely fragile and the very idea of historical preservation is a mad existential defiance of entropy itself. These records are real, they are fragile - to hell with the Library of Alexandria, remember the National Museum of Brazil? - and they are all that is left to us of the dead.

[ghostoffuturespast]

Writer Interview Tag 📝

Tagged by @luvwich. Thank you! These were fun to think about.

Q&A Below

When did you start writing?

For funsies, in 2022. I was working part-time then and had just binge read a bunch of fics. While I enjoyed what I read, none of them quite scratched the itch I had for more, so I was like guess I’ll have to write this story I want to read, yolo. As someone who hated writing growing up and all throughout school, I also figured it’d be good practice for me lol. Never fancied myself a writer until I started doing it. I sorely underestimated how much this hobby would consume my life.  

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I can get into just about anything, regardless of themes or genre, as long as it holds my attention and I think it’s interesting. I really enjoy reading non-fiction books though. Mainly science, history, ethnographies, or some mash up of all three. (That’s where the real money’s at.) They’re fascinating and can be very entertaining if you find the right one. Plus, it’s excellent inspiration fodder. Real life is often stranger than fiction, and real life is the primary source for all fiction.

I was in the book store recently and realized I had multiple Mary Roach books to catch up on. I very much wish I had more time and the peace of mind to read. Alas, modern society prioritizes The Grind™ and why is my house always dirty? Please feed me.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I honestly can’t say there’s a particular writer I’ve ever tried to emulate. Every writer’s got their own style and strengths, and the reason as to why I enjoy their writing is always different. They way I write is undoubtedly a mash-up of influences, but as for sorting them out myself… Eh. 

I’ve never been compared to anyone, which I’m fine with, much rather be known for just being me. But folks are free to share if they have an opinion on it though, I’m always curious to know what stands out to readers. Nobody tells me these kinds of things lol.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I bop around spaces a lot, but my primary spot is on my art table in my office. I have a desk for my computer lol, however I prefer the art table because it’s in front of a window and feels like a more creative space. Otherwise, I’m staring at the wall and sitting next to unopened stacks of mail and paperwork that I haven’t filed. I also like to write on my tiny porch with three different beverages when it’s not 8 million degrees outside or an arctic wasteland.

Sometimes I write at work when it’s one of those 10 hour days, I’ve finished everything pressing I needed to do, and I’m by myself in the office… Know your taxpayer dollars are going to a good cause and funding contributions to fan fiction. Willing to bet money I’m not the only government employee doing it either.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

For me, inspiration and motivation are two separate things that almost never happen at the same time, so my writing process is fairly compartmentalized. I’ll jot down ideas in my draft when they randomly strike then find ways to incorporate and string those ideas together when I actually sit down to write. “Muses” for me are less a choir of angels descending from the heavens and more my one brain wrinkle occasionally handing me a post-it note. 

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

As my supervisor likes to remind me, a theme needs to be a complete statement/sentence.

Topics/subjects/interests that appear frequently in my writing: violence, the inherent violence entrenched in colonial and capitalist systems, aikido, anthropology, nature is the answer, grief, intergenerational trauma, obvious and/or obscure references, callbacks, structural symmetry, body worship, teasing, the red-tape of bureaucracy, the sanctity of the mundane, being seen, self-acceptance, monsters and old gods, ghosts, the ancient and the archaic, personifying places, the poetry of paragraphs, grumpy characters, puns.

And I’m not surprised by any of these. I love (or love critically examining) all of these things.      

What is your reason for writing?

It is my greatest desire in this life to haunt people.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love it when people take the time to comment at all, regardless of the type. Just the fact that someone took the time to connect is lovely! Most of the comments I get aren’t super in-depth though (I don’t get those analytical essays that I sometimes see in other comment sections) so the ones where a reader takes the time to explain what they thought, how they felt, or about what they noticed in my writing (even if it’s brief) are super special to me. It’s like “Yo! Thank you for seeing this thing I spent a bunch of time on. I appreciate and love you!” (cue spider-man pointing meme)

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

A friendly ghost.

I feel people tend to find me intimidating for reasons I don’t fully understand (irl and online, maybe it’s my resting ghost face). But, my dudes, I just wanna hang with you all. Truly. I know I’m bad at initiating conversation but please, I not scary. Weird for sure, but not scary.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Environmental descriptions/storytelling, action scenes, and big picture logistics. I get an idea for a story, sit down with it, and fifteen minutes later I’m rolling out full infrastructure blueprints. I got the plot, main story beats, and themes all mapped out. I’m good at assessing and planning, but also leave a lot of room to improvise too.

How do you feel about your own writing?

It ain’t perfect but it’s solid. Refining skills is a perpetual task. There’s always room for improvement, my writing’s gonna evolve over time, I’m gonna learn from other people; I’m okay with all of that.

Fuck proper grammar and punctuation though. It’s a social construct that I ain’t got time for. Linguistically I can do what I want because all the rules around that are made up too! I’m emulating modes of irl speech. As long as it mostly makes sense, I don’t really give a shit. Bite me. 

(Editors everywhere trying to strangle me.)

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Purely for myself. Sometimes I write something and I think “so-and-so would probably appreciate this” but, unless it’s a writing project for someone else or I’m designing it for a specific audience in mind, I don’t put stock into what other people want. I tell the stories I want to tell.

Tagging with no pressure: @shimmer-like-agirl @baublekute @scarlettspectra

@genocidalfetus @dani-the-goblin @fly-amanitaa