#not at all! not at fucking all! but it doesn't change the fact that it IS disappointing and upsetting when your religion/ethnicity

[littlemissshifter]

How to 'let go'.

To know how to 'let go' you have to understand what it is. I highly suggest you to read this post first.

Letting go is not a act of forgetting but one of perseverance. It's meaning is quite literally it's opposite. Letting go is not you leaving everything behind and focusing on your life but living regardless. It is the celebration of being alive.

No matter what I write, it won't change the fact that everything you 'want' exists. Everything is already available to you. It has happened and only waiting for you to acknowledge it. The integration of a desire in your reality does not mean that it didn't exist before in your life. It's you realising that it was always there. Staring at you right in the face when you were 'waiting for it to arrive'.

To let go you must know, you must know that searching for something outside of you when you're it is useless. I understand your want, your need, your desparation. But it's literally here? The thing you want is already your reality. Everything is happening now. Why aren't you acknowledging the truth?

Perseverance is something you do, not caring what the physical plane is showing you. The physical plane is you. It is your conscious decision on something. You keep moving forward. You keep rising and falling but you keep going. That is what letting go is.

It's your ability to keep moving forward, your ability to keep doing what you want no matter the present or the result that you seek so hard. It is you never stopping. Now I don't mean that you keep going and never rest. Remember, to move forward you must create momentum. To create momentum you keep doing what you like. What you know you want to do.

Doesn't matter what the world says. If you need or want to rest right now, you must do it. Because that's what's important. That's what you want. That doesn't stop the flow of life. It keeps life going. Your decision to do what you want to do keeps life moving.

It doesn't matter if you spiraled for a million hours or if you feel like you ruined your chances to shift/manifest. It doesn't matter if you think you can't do it or whatever the fuck people think these days. The main most important question is what do you want to do right now? What do you want right now in this moment?

The only way to move forward is to keep doing what you like. Doing what you want in the present. It is focusing on one thing at a time. Whether it is playing a game on your phone, taking a nap, eating an apple, crying your heart out or screaming at the world because you're mad. It is the continuing of the cycle of life. It is the continuous energy in motion. Your emotions felt, seen and heard. Your existence acknowledged and appreciated.

It includes every decision you take. Small or big. It includes you acknowledging yourself in every decision. It includes you looking after your wants, your needs, yourself. Stop running after your desire and run after you.

That's all you need to do to let go. It's all letting go is. It was always just moving with yourself and not leaving yourself behind. You are your greatest asset. Stop waiting for people to help you. Get up, cry and move on. Feel and love. You were yours before the world took you. Come back home to yourself and live.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.

The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.

Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.

Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.

Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.

He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.

Likewise Gareth.

He doesn't bother calling Jeff.

There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.

Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’

No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.

Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.

So...just once.

One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.

Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.

Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.

“Where you going, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”

“Uh hu.”

“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”

“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”

Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”

Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.

Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”

The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.

“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”

“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.

“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”

Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”

“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eddie does not do that, obviously.

“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”

“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”

“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.

“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it…” he doesn’t bother to finish.

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”

Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.

He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.

He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.

Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.

“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"

Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.

“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”

Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.

“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”

“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.

“Who?”

“Chris. Wayne.”

“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”

“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.

“Okay, and Chris?”

Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.

“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”

Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”

“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”

“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”

“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.

Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”

Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”

Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.

“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”

“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”

“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”

That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry…” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”

“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”

Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”

Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”

“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”

“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”

“I was fucked up.”

“Yeah...but she…”

“Just say it.”

“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”

“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”

“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”

“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”

“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”

“Okay, speak later?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”

Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.

[sully-s]

Open in a different window to zoom in. So this is just a deep dive behind all the stuff I put in my last post I rolled back my picture before I did all the lighting and color changes to make certain details more visible. Fun fact I almost scrapped this whole picture at this stage because A. I was just burned out; this piece took me forever. B. As I kept getting more and more "neat" ideas to stuff in, I lost any real focal point, especially with the color scheme. After hours of trying to fix it in PS and failing, I was about to give up. I was like fuck it make it a night scene. Let me tell you all a world of lighting makes lol.

Anyways, enough about my struggles, let me give you the tour.

I love the idea that this corkboard was originally Phoenix's mood board in the beginning it just had his childhood pics from like the yearbook and that one time Larry got a polaroid camera. Then, a new year clipping about Edgeworth being Demon Prosecutor which led Phoenix to make his thesis about court drawings just so he could watch and see with his two eyes how much Edgeworth changed. - Then, later, he added Mia because she was his mentor. then Vinny (from the movie "My Cousin on Vinny") because like Vinny, Phoenix never understands court procedure but has very good instincts; and last Elle Woods who also went to law school for a boy basically his spirit lawyer lol. - Later, after Maya joined, she thought it would be funny to replace Phoenix's real reason to Steel Samurai. Also, it was fun because Will Powers was their client, so he should be their reason. Phoenix let them stay because it made Maya happy, and Phoenix knew that with Mia's death, she needed it. - I was going to add a sticky note from Miles that he approved, but I do like that Miles will never admit out loud or in writing that he enjoys the show. - A year later, Pearls tries to replace all the Steel Samurais with her drawings of Maya. Which Phoenix encouraged her to make during Maya's disappearance because facts. - Tid Bit: I was sad to cover up Will Powers' signature I really liked how it came out

Moving away from the mood board idea, I like that the cork board just became Phoenix's catch all. So his Law Degree which isn't the original it's just a sad printed-out version of what should've been his fancy embossed one. I like the idea that Phoenix never went to graduation. (Can't be bothered he's on a mission to save his childhood bff.)

Lastly are postcards from Edgeworth, his way of making up for all the years he couldn't write back to young Phoenix. - Also, this picture takes place some time after the 3rd game but before the disbarment.

Calendar whiteboard that I forgot to add the last row too so I guess in Japaniforina the months are only 25 days long.

I spent a frustrating amount of time trying to figure out the logistics of this paper trail. It really doesn't need to make sense It just has to make the room messier. - You can imagine Phoenix is looking over phone records or court stenographer's record.

So Edgeworth is a nerd; we all know this. But it annoys me just a tad that his nerd-isum is always just Steel Samurai (like I get it, it's canon), but all geeks have many fandom loves, okay. - So I just love the idea that Phoenix and Edgeworth (who are in a relationship at the time of this pic ) watch Better Call Saul, and they both bought each other a little plushie of the character they joke is them. -Edgeworth bought Saul for Phoenix (because of Saul's heart, not because he does shady practices), And Phoenix bought Kim (because she a really good lawyer who seems cold and is a workaholic who would break the rules for their Saul (used phoenix's badge in the third game )) - They keep each other's plushies in their offices, and if one of them stops by when the other isn't in, they put a sticky note on it. - Which we can see that Phoenix did need reminding because, as you can see, the date is 18th, and no mention of a dinner ;)

7. Now the whole reason I drew this picture was too show off my headcanon that Phoenix has a Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law action figure that you know Gumshoe got him after Edgeworth vs. State happen because of Polly. And we all know that man would be a fan of old Hanabara cartoons. - I've loved this stupid tid-bit of a headcanon that it's been haunting me for years. That's it; that's all I really wanted to say with this piece, and look where it got

[sleepyslag]

dnp are some of the least shitty and exploitative creators in an industry that is foundationally built off of shittyness and exploitation. everyone is well within their right to be upset or disappointed or even angry about the way this situation is going but so much of this is because of corporations designing shit in a way that makes them the most money at the expense of fans and creators as well.

i will always wish dan and phil would do more for all of their fans who are continuously excluded from events and merch and the like and i think it’s important to make noise and bring attention to the fact that it’s a repeated problem. but there are things they can’t control. companies/corporations that won’t agree to anything they consider “non-profitable”. an industry that is intended to be as exclusive as possible. systemic issues that allow and encourage exploitation of fans.

idk. my head hurts. all of this sucks and my heart goes out to every phannie who is being fucked over rn. you deserve better. genuinely. i hope more can be done for you. and i’m so sorry.

Yeah, I agree with everything you're saying!! It sucks and it's exploitative AND it's not their fault and they're being exploited too. That's just the entertainment industry right now unfortunately.

Hopefully they find a way to make it right for the people who missed the show AND now can't get merch. I don't think it's necessarily their fault that this company apparently doesn't ship many places, and maybe they're under contract and CAN'T change things now, but putting the merch on their site with worldwide shipping would go a long way right now. It's a shit situation all around and my heart does go out to everyone ❤️

[zepskies]

Lol YESSS I know you love a bit of angsty heartbreak. 😜 Thank you so much, friend! Can't wait to see what you thought of the penultimate chapter. 💖

Oh, Micheal is just such a lovely, lovely person, isn't he? 😒 In the words of Taylor Swift: Michael doesn't measure up in any measure of a man...

oh God yeah, perfect quote for this pos, honestly. 😣

Hahaha omfg I loved Sam so much during this chapter! He was awesome!!! Go Lawyer!Sam 😎🤎 (And I have no idea if you intended for my mind to jump to Changing Channels and French Mistake Sam with these lines, but it did, so THANK you 🤣🫶)

LMAO I'm deaddd - Sam in Changing Channels is exactly the cadence of all his lawyering/"agreeing" with Michael to keep him talking. It's very "play your role" for sure! And French Mistake Sam is the icing on the cake. 🤣🤣🤣

I do understand his struggle after the war, but it's literally NO excuse to treat his wife like shit, cheat on her, lie to her, spend her money for his trashy sidepiece, and God knows what else. You don't want an anchor? Fine. Get divorced. The fact he keeps her around and won't let her find her own happiness after she literally saved his life is so mind-boggingly selfish smh The least he could to show his gratitude is not be a gigantic cuntface 🤬

First of all, LOVE that you dug up that Freddie gif. Leave it to you to find the perfect one there. 🤣🤣

And yes ALLLL of this! Louder for the people in the back!!!

That's exactly how I hoped readers would react to Michael's scene. Is he pitiable in a sense? Sure. Does he inspire sympathy? Maybe. But it doesn't excuse his selfishness, especially when you contrast him with Dean and his experiences vs. his actions.

Ugh, God, poor thing! 😭💔 With all the romanticism of that period sadly also comes the shame of taboo topics (not to mention feminism in general taking a backseat lol) Really feel for her here! Wish she wouldn't blame herself as much. Her husband is a dirtbag 😔

Ooof yep, that's something I hoped would come across as well. I wanted the reader to be strong but realistic to the time period in that sense. But it shows how her moral character differs from her husband. 🙄 Even now, she feels guilty for betraying him, even if she also doesn't. It's more the principle of it that she feels shame for, if not the actual emotional act.

SCREAMING 😳😳😳 The whole flower shop scene was like watching a train wreck. Poor Dean! So many stingers in those few sentences!! 😩 (And man, I wanna choke Michael!!! Buying flowers? Dinner? Are you fucking kidding me??? WHAT THE F–???)

Ughhhh God ikr? Poor Dean, indeed!! 😭😭 What's ironic is Michael doesn't know that that's almost exactly what Dean did to cheer her up the night before. So now, even Dean might be looking at his own actions as "not enough." But Michael has every shade of audacity, doesn't he? 😤

But did you stop the angst there? Nope! The reader part of me hated you, while the writer part highly commended you 😂💜

*snorts* honestly thank you - this compliment feeds me so much. 😂💕💕

I already knew it wouldn't be fast, but I knew this was going to be a problem. Where would she stay during this? Michael certainly won't have it, and I really fear for her safety here 🥺 (Reading the teaser for the last part, I think I have good reason to, even though I know you said once earlier I didn't need to. Still, you got me shaking here, girl 😅) Surprised Sam wouldn't think about that, considering everything he found out about the guy so far 👀

Ooh yes, these are all good questions! Her safety and where she'll stay is definitely a factor coming into play in Part 5. After what Sam has found out, he's going to make sure she's looked out for, for sure! 💜💜

This was such a dreamy, swoon-worthy movie scene *sighs* 😍🫠 And then they had to start talking, didn't they? Specifically Dean. The infamous DW self-loathing enters the AU 😆 I really just wanted to cover his piehole and tell him to stop talking, kiss her for real, and take her with you. Hide out in Kansas till everything blows over 😭

Ugh right?? Things started out so nice, why tf did Dean have to open his mouth? lmaoo

"I'm no good for you"!Dean has entered the chat. 😒 But no DW love story would be complete without a little self-loathing, right? 🙃

LOL love that image of literally covering his piehole.~

But I know it hurts, my lovely. I'm so sorry to do this to you. 🥲🤭

And I'm so glad the brothers had a long overdue chat as well! I still feel so incredibly heartbroken for Dean 😭

Oh yeah, Sam and Dean needed to have that moment - for Sam to see how much he was hurting big bro, and for Dean to get that off his chest. Ultimately though, if these guys can survive three years of the war apart, they can survive learning how to be brothers again too. 💜

I can't wait for the last part of this & how it all will tie together in the end! Eeeek! This is so, so, so incredibly good, friend!!! 😍😍😍 (And I get to read it on Patreon tonight too hehe 🩵)

Aww I love you so much for wanting to join my Patreon, friend!! I can't wait to see what you think of how it all shakes out--with much drama of course. you know me lmao 😘💖💖

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Now we get into the aftermath of the night before, with all the insecurity and heartbreak to go along with it. 💙

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “Danke Shoen” by Wayne Newton

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angsty angst, trauma/PTSD, and a cliffhanger…

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 4: Complicit

Sam would give Michael one thing. The guy damn well knew how to drink.

He didn’t stop all night, throwing back whiskey like it was cheap beer. His words began to slur, his movements sloppy, but he was still coherent. When he got up to visit the men’s restroom, Sam got up as well. Maybe he could get Michael talking.

Sam stopped the other man from tripping into the urinal. The two laughed it off, with Michael thanking him before he unzipped to finish his business. Sam did the same.

After washing their hands, Sam looked over and noticed Michael’s gaze lingering on his own reflection in the mirror. It was becoming a rough sight—his blonde hair no longer neatly coiffed, purplish rings under his eyes, the stench of alcohol clinging to his skin and clothing.

“You all right there, Milligan?” Sam asked.

Michael ran a hand over his face, sighing when it didn’t get any better.

“Fine,” he replied. “So, Winchester. What did you say you do for work again? Something about your own business?”

Sam nodded. “I started up a law firm.”

That much, he had to be honest about. It was all too easy for someone to look up his name in the directory.

“Sounds like a good outfit,” Michael said, with an incline of his head. “Every lawyer I know wears a Rolex.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at his father’s watch. “Well, I’m not quite there yet.”

“Someday soon, I’m sure,” said Michael. He bumped Sam conspiringly on the shoulder.

“And you?” Sam asked. “What’s keeping the lights on at your place?”

Michael raised a hand to sort through his unruly hair, a dirtier blonde in this unflattering light.

“Well, you could say I’ve inherited a business of my own,” he said. “I run a meat packing plant down in the district.”

Sam’s attention piqued. There had been a meat rationing during the war, even some rumors and propaganda about “meatleggers,” black market operators.

“How’s it been with the rations?” Sam asked. “Been hard to even find a good carton of eggs lately.”

Michael gave him a slight smile. “Been on the turnaround, actually. I’ve been able to make some connections with vendors outside the city. A little grease on the palms makes a little go a long way, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly smiled and nodded. A little grease on the palms, huh?

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Michael snorted. “Now you’re talkin’. That’s all we can do, you know. Try to make a thing work, with whatever scraps we get. Try to stay afloat.”

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Michael made a low sound of approval. He became more contemplative, crossing his arms as he once again glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sam’s gaze on the other man was perceptive, gaining ever closer to what seemed to be eating at the very core of him. Whether Sam actually believed what he was saying or not, each of his words was a test, a subtle nudge.

“You know,” Michael said. “I was shot down in France.”

Sam sobered further. Leaning against the counter, he retrieved two cigarettes and a lighter. He didn’t often smoke, but he thought it might keep the other man talking. He handed one over to Michael, and he took it gratefully. They lit up together and coiled musky tobacco smoke into the air.

“Where?” Sam asked.

Michael snorted, huffing a bit of smoke. “Lord knows. But when I woke up, I had stitches from here to here.”

He gestured to the back of his head, all the way to above his brow. It explained a small, but noticeable scar near his temple.

“And I had an angel standing over me,” he added, his eyes growing heavy. Guilty. “A bona fide angel. She’d stitched me up, she told me. She also told me I was lucky to be alive. The doc wanted to toe tag me and be done with it, but she thought I still had some fight left in me.”

Michael shook his head. “The next chance I got, I married her.”

Sam’s brows rose. He knew you had been a nurse, but he hadn’t known this part of your story.

“A wartime romance, huh?” he said. Michael quirked a smile.

“She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

He hesitated, his eyes somewhat glazing over. He stared over Sam’s shoulder at something only he could see.

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said. “Sometimes, you need to forget your own damn name. Forget that your entire life and mortgage is in a warehouse that might as well be a freezer full a’ dead cow meat. And still, it smells a hell of a lot better than lying on a dirty cot—where the last guy who had your spot probably got his leg sawed off.” 

Michael considers the cigarette in his hand for a long while before he takes another puff.

Sam exhales smoke as well. He spent the last three years behind a desk, but he sees the same shaken core in Michael Milligan that he too often sees in his older brother.

“You know, Winchester, there’s two kinds of men,” Michael said, just a hint of a slur in his voice. “The ones who pray to live…and the ones who beg for it to be over.”

“And what kind of man are you now?” Sam asked. His tone was loose, but his gaze was sharp.

Michael snorted. He dabbed the butt of his cigarette on the inside of the sink before he threw it away.

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

He rolled his shoulders, as if to let the weight of his words and everything that came along with them to roll off his back. Then he pushed his way out of the bathroom, leaving Sam considering more than just half a cigarette.

That night after Dean left, you slept in the guest room instead of your bed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep next to Michael when he stumbled in at four in the morning, especially now that you had seen his game with your own eyes. 

However, you also felt complicit yourself the next morning. You felt…ashamed. You took your vows seriously. You had never in your life thought you would be someone so brazen. You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

And yet. All while you got ready for work, hearing Michael’s snores from the other room, your mind was filled with warmth and memory—of Dean. His smile, his voice, his eyes, his lips, and of course, his hands. You couldn’t decide which of them was your favorite, but his hands were high on the list. 

You shouldn’t have let him in, you reminded yourself. You nibbled on your lower lip while you prepped the coffee maker. You should have told him goodnight at the door and saw him off. You should very well not have invited him up to the apartment, let alone drank with him, or let him touch you…

You paused while the sound of percolation and the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. You looked up at yourself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The woman looking back at you was conflicted at best.

Yes, you felt guilty. But at the same time, you didn’t. Was it really betraying your marriage if your husband had been doing far worse, and for God knew how long?

No. This wasn’t a marriage. This was a sham. A mockery of the very thing.

You frowned angrily and almost slammed the carafe on the counter when the coffee was done. Forcing yourself to take a few steadying breaths, you allowed that hate and anger to slowly drain out of you, and you smiled.

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

What the hell am I doing?

Dean stared at the two bouquets of flowers. One was a bound bunch of red roses, the other was wildflowers and other colorful ones he didn’t know the names of. He was having a hard time deciding, namely because he didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked.

Because after all, he barely knew you.

He sighed down at the roses. They were pretty, but expensive. He could imagine your surprise, followed by your smile—the one that actually lit up your eyes and changed your whole face, made you sweeter, almost shy.

I’m buying flowers for a married woman.

The thought managed to make him pause, with a rough exhale of breath. The truth was, he’d crossed the line with you. More than once.

The hard part about it was, he didn’t really care. He did wonder if you cared.

He wondered if you’d be embarrassed to see him again. He wondered if you wanted to keep last night a memory, and nothing more. He wondered if he was better off booking his train home now, and leaving some kind of note for you with Sam. Dean didn’t think he wanted to see that look of mortification on your face, the whiskey finally cleared from your mind to see what he really was: a man with no job, no commitments, and very little prospects on the horizon.

“Ah, ‘scuse me,” a young man said from Dean’s left side.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him.

“Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

When the florist asked about you as well, the mention of your name rang between Dean’s ears. A feeling like inky claws raked through his chest; he raised his head from the roses and finally recognized Michael Milligan. He was the same man Dean had spotted in your wedding pictures hanging on the wall last night, right in the foyer.

“She’s all right,” Michael chuckled. “Truth be told, I’ve been working late this week. Hoping to surprise her tonight, take her out to dinner. Somewhere nice, you know.” 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you take her to that nice steakhouse off of Broadway…” the florist twittered on as he continued to ring up Michael’s order.

Anger and disgust prickled under Dean’s skin, his fists clenched at his sides. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and lay your husband out flat. If he thought one little bouquet and a Salisbury steak was going to wash him clean, then he was an idiot as well as a selfish bastard.

But Dean knew, deep down, that Michael would be just as justified to throw a swing right back at him.

So Dean left the flowers, the flower shop, and the entire busy street and all its blaring sounds behind.

During your lunch break, you quickly made the trek over to Sam’s office. He’d called you this morning with a story that only confirmed everything you’d inherently felt, and yet, some of it still managed to shock you. 

You didn’t even have the patience to wait until after work, but when you got there, he reassured you. It had taken him a few rounds of poker and discreetly following Michael and Dolores after they exited through the back of the club…but Sam had gotten the evidence not long after. They weren’t exactly discreet in the alley. Or in the nearby motel.

You had the envelope in hand filled with the pictures he’d developed from his camera.  

“You don’t have to look,” he advised. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No, I want to see it,” you said. You took the pictures out, and your expression didn’t change as you look through them all. Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He was sincere, with those hazel eyes of his.

You nodded and gave him back the envelope. “What’s next?”

“I went ahead and filed the petition. I’ll take this right to the clerk’s office myself.”

“How long will it take to be over?”

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured.

A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

“Oh, I meant to ask…how’s your brother?” you said.

Sam began to smile, but he tempered it. “He just called before you came in. He let me know he was stepping out for a walk.”

“Oh, really? Did he happen to say where?”

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Well, look who’s here?” he teased. “How’d you find me?”

“I stopped by Sam’s office,” you said, holding onto the lapels of his coat. A cold November wind pushed at you both, ruffling your clothes. “The paperwork is on its way. Soon enough, I won’t be a married woman anymore.”

He tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear and smiled, but it didn’t altogether reach his eyes.

“How soon is soon?” he asked.

“A few months, according to your brother.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

That made you pause, tilting your head in confusion. Though you supposed it made sense. He was only here visiting his brother. He was planning on going home eventually.

But surely, that was before we… You lowered your gaze.

“Back to Lawrence?” you asked. Again, he nodded.

“I need to take care of some things, figure out my next move,” he said.

You pulled away from him to brace yourself, and not just against the cold. “Well, when will you be back?” 

He stayed quiet, worrying you even more. There was a deep pit forming in your stomach, churning with unease.  

“Dean?” you prodded.

He stepped back in to grasp your arms gently.

“Sweetheart…the truth is, I don’t have much to offer you,” he said. “I don’t have a business to inherit from my folks. I don’t even have a job. I’m a man who was about as useful as a jackhammer, until the war ended.”

You frowned, resting a hand against his chest. “Dean Winchester, that’s not all there is to you.”

“Really. When did you figure that one out, in the whole week you’ve known me?” he asked. It was harsher than he meant to be, but he couldn’t help the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “Didn’t that get you in trouble the first time? I’d a thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now.”

You snatched your hand back, hurt filling your eyes. You turned to walk away before he saw your tears. You should have known. You should have known a man like him would never be serious. Not about you. 

As soon as he let the words go, Dean realized what he was doing. Yeah, he was frustrated, but it wasn’t aimed at you. It couldn’t be aimed at you.

God knew he didn’t want to hurt you, or for you to hate him. He really couldn’t stomach either thought, so he relented and reached out to grab at your hand, before you could get too far. 

“Wait,” he said, managing to pull you back to him. “I’m sorry.”

You tugged your hand to try and free yourself from his grasp. 

“You know what, maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice wobbling with anger, dismay, and tears. “Maybe I ought to stop letting a man get even an inch into my heart. At this point, it’s my own fault.”

“Stop,” Dean demanded. “No, it’s not.” 

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just an idiot,” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears as they fell. “But you…you deserve to be happy. With a man that can take care of you, protect you. A man who has a little more of his life figured out.”

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.”

Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

You stepped back and straightened your clothes. You took in a deep breath that did nothing to calm you, and you uttered a humorless laugh.

“I suppose it makes sense. Why would you want anything to do with me?” You gestured down at yourself with a dismissive hand. “A-a walking mess. Even when I am divorced, that’s how people will see me. Damaged goods. I don’t even know how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

You covered your face against Dean and the rest of the world, and after weeks and months, you finally allowed yourself the one thing you hadn’t since your first inkling that your husband was being unfaithful. You finally allowed yourself to break.

The first sob shuddered through your body, followed by hot tears. You squeezed your eyes against them and wiped at your face in vain.

Dean broke too, in his own way. He gathered you into his arms, where he shushed you gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I wasn’t giving you an excuse,” he said.

Despite how much you wanted to push him away, the deep, steady timbre of his voice pierced you and soothed you at the same time.

“I meant every word I said. I may not be the right guy for you, but don’t you dare take a scrap of what anyone else might say, you hear me?” he said firmly. “You’re beautiful. You don’t suffer fools like me, and you’re better than that sad sack excuse of a man deserves.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes.

“You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but you’re not a fool.”

He shook his head, not wanting to argue with you anymore. He just kissed you, deeply, thoroughly, the way you always imagined a kiss should be.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

You met him with as much as he gave and reached up to touch his cheek. It felt a little rough under your fingers, just like you remembered. You would probably always remember that feeling, long after you left the park.

That evening, you packed as many bags as you could. You put together the savings you’d been collecting for a few months. It had been at your coworker Jess’s advice, ever since you started feeling the inkling that something wasn’t right in your marriage.

After you were all packed, you took one last, long look at the space you had tried to make your home. With one last tear trailing your cheek, you stepped out of the apartment. You took the bus uptown, where you later checked into a hotel. 

When your husband finally got home from work, he would find a one-page letter written in your own hand. 

For once, Sam was actually home in his apartment. He was helping Dean take his suitcase to the front door after calling a taxi to come shortly. Sam wasn’t happy about it though.

“You don’t have to go so soon, Dean,” said Sam.

Dean gave a humorless laugh. He grabbed his coat from the rack and threw it on.

“I’ve gotta get back to the house. It’s already been empty too long,” he said. Three years too long. “Fact is, I’m just getting in your way here.”

He couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes as he went to the door, but Sam stopped him with a pressing hand on his arm, tugging him back.

“Hey,” Sam said, his brows furrowed. “That’s not true. Where’d you get that idea?”

Dean raised his brows. “You mean the way you’ve haven’t been home more than a few hours a night? The way the only time I see you is if I go find you at that office. You should open up a Bed n’ Breakfast there. You’d make a double killing in this town.”

Sam wilted. “Dean, we opened the firm barely a month ago. I’m just trying to—”

Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, relenting.

“Hey, look. I’m not judging you, Sammy. I’m not,” he said. “You’re building something. I know that. I just need to go figure out how to do the same, whatever that means for me.”

Sam stared back at him, still with that frown. His guilt and reluctance to see Dean go was reflected in his eyes; those sad puppy dog eyes that used to get him out of almost any punishment with their parents when the boys were young. Before.

The corner of Dean’s mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon,” he said.

“How soon is soon?” Sam asked. It was something their mother used to say to John whenever he called late, promising he’d come home after long days in town buying supplies for the farm.

“The divorce papers will be served to Michael Milligan,” Sam added, pointedly raising his brows. “She…could use your support.”

Dean’s smile faded at the mention of you. His hand slipped from Sam’s shoulder.

“She’s got a strong head on her shoulders. She’ll be all right,” he said. He heard the honk of the taxi outside. He grabbed up his hat, set it on his head, and took up his bags. He turned back to Sam at the last moment. “I’m sure you’ll look out for her.”

It was somehow both a question, and an imploring charge. Sam sighed, but he nodded in agreement. His brother could be so very stubborn. Once he got an idea of what he thought he needed to do, there was almost no talking him out of it.

Sam opened the door for him and walked him out to the car, helping him with his bags. Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you.

Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.

Dean released him first with a smile, and a heavy pat of Sam’s shoulder. He turned and climbed into the cab’s backseat. Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

Dean took up his suitcase as the train pulled into the station. He stepped up onto the platform and retrieved the ticket from his pocket, but he paused, hearing a familiar voice shouting his name.

He turned his head and saw Sam rushing to meet him at the platform.

“What’s the matter? What’re you doing here?” Dean asked in surprise. He didn’t like the wary apprehension written across Sam’s face.

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

AN: Come on, we needed at least one cliffhanger in this series! 😘 What do you think Sam rushed over to tell Dean? What did you think about their "goodbye," as well as her and Dean's goodbye? ...And are you ready for all the drama that's about to go down? lol 

Next Time:

Except the loud, insistent knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. Straightening up with a frown, you set down your glass and went over to the door. Maybe it was Housekeeping coming up to bring you the fresh towels you asked for. The ones that had been laid out in the bathroom smelled musty.

You opened the door to a tall frame taking up room in the doorway. It was Michael, standing there both disheveled and steaming mad. He held your letter crumpled in his left hand. 

“Michael, what—what’re you doing here?” you gasped and stepped back. He followed you inside the room and slammed it shut. He looked around at your open suitcases in disbelief, then finally at you.

“What’s this supposed to mean, huh?” he demanded to know. He shook the flimsy piece of paper at you.

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[rosenclaws]

Heey! I think your requests are closed, but when you open them, do you think you could write about Logan (any variant) with a reader who has a bad relationship with food? I kinda need the comfort right now, I have to eat to survive, but I hardly ever want to eat, and when I do I feel guilty about it, specially if it's not something super healthy or low cal.

I think Logan would be a really good partner and show support, make sure his partner eats well or doesn't slip meals and even cooks for them :')

Hi! Absolutely I can, I understand what you're going through and I want to know that you're loved and you have my full support <3 I picked origins Logan for this, he just gives off the softest vibes and would be a completely supportive and sweet partner. It's a little short and I apologize but I hope it helps <33

warnings: eating disorder/bad relationship with food, please don't read if this would possibly trigger you

Logan could tell something was off from the moment he walked through the door. His stomach rumbled as he smelled whatever delicious meal you were making for dinner. As he entered the kitchen he saw you pulling a pan out of dinner. Lasagna, his favorite.

"Smells fucking amazing," He purrs as he wraps his hands around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

He still smells like pine needle and dirt from work. Normally he doesn't get back till way past dinner time but today was an easy day. How lucky he gets to eat dinner with the love of his life huh?

"Logan! You scared me." You huff as you gently push his arms off your body.

"Go clean up dinners almost ready." He frowns as you shoo him away.

Lately things have just felt off. You smiled and laughed like you always do but there were little things that just didn't feel right. Especially around meal times.

"Okay sweetheart, I'll be right back." Logan can't help but wonder what could possibly be wrong.

Are you sick? Is something bothering you? If so why wouldn't you tell him? Worries start to invade his thoughts. What could be going on that you can't even go to him about it? After a quick shower and a change of clothes he heads back to the kitchen. Only to see one plate of food sitting on the counter.

"I made it with the sauce you like, not the off brand one." You say with a smile but Logan's worry remains. He sits at the counter and takes the plate.

"Where's yours?" He asks. Your face falls for just a second. Anyone else would have missed it but not Logan. Not when it comes to you.

"Not hungry." You try and play it off, pushing the plate closer but Logan grabs your wrist.

"Logan, I had a big lunch. I'll eat later." You try and tug out of Logan's grip but he remains firm. Never enough to hurt you but enough to keep you there. To keep you from running away.

"I don't believe you. In fact, I've barely seen you eat anything in the last couple months."

The memories come flooding back. He's seen you eat, but its never much and it's always healthy. Shame starts to creep into his bones as he realizes he's failed to put the pieces together. All this time.

"Please sweetheart, whatever is going on you can tell me." Tears start to well up in your eyes as Logan speaks.

You never meant for him to find out. You thought you could handle this on your own. You had been so careful and eat just enough so that he never caught on. But the truth is you're exhausted. Food is nothing more that a means to survive. Everyday you force yourself to eat just enough and no more. Its been exhausting. Especially if the food you eat is too many calories or just plain unhealthy.

Logan almost jumps across the counter the moment he sees the tears, fearing the worst. He abandons his dinner in favor of wrapping you in his arms on the couch. Cooing softly as you cry and explain everything to him. He doesn't say a word, he just listens. Rubbing your back and letting you soak his shirt with tears.

When you're done you prepare for the worst. What if Logan leaves? I mean it would certainly be easier for him to not have to deal with. All of this. But he doesn't. With gentle hands he cups your face and dries your tears.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbles. Sorry that he didn't notice sooner and sorry you've been carrying this for so long.

"Are you mad?" You ask quietly.

"No, of course not." Logan presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Listen honey, this isn't healthy." He knows that you know that but its not as easy as just a flip of a switch to change habits that had been built for years.

"I'm going to be with you every step of the way alright?" He says, tilting your head up so you can look him in the eyes. He wants you to know that he truly means every word.

"Okay," Logan pulls you into a tight hug, whispering sweet words over and over. He wishes he could take all your pain away in an instant. He'd bear it for you without even asking, but he can't.

But he stays true to his promise. Logan is there when you need him, to remind you to eat and taking it upon himself to make meals for you and with you. Some days were harder than others but Logan carried the weight you couldn't.

Things still aren't easy, but with Logan by your side you think you might be able to do anything.

[evilminji]

Had another Si-Oc thought >.>

My standard "you know what Would Be Cool?" Musings...

Getting reborn, as you do, ending up Force Sensitive, as can only be the case. Because really... how ELSE would you soul end up there? CHANCE? Force ghosts are a PROVEN thing! We KNOW that the Force sometimes just... deals in souls.

Ffs, it MADE A BABY.

Yes, there was Sith interference there. But that doesn't chance the fact that it went? "Eh, good enough. I'll take the chance and run with it. Thanks~☆ Mine Now~~☆ Bye~~~☆" And Chosen One'd that baby. Because ultimately? Before the plans of gods and men? The Force Laughs.

So like? Yeah. If there WAS to be a Reincarnator?

Probably the Force.

Congrats on the new, third (or second, depends on your species. Might be another number entirely, honestly. But we are averaging here so MOVE ON), Parent! They are very, very happy to see you! Love you as only a Primordial, Extradimensional, Timeless, Formless, All Pervasive, Orange-Blue Morality havin', Not-A-God Super-God CAN. Their Benevolence? Could be called another God's cruelty.

They don't MEAN too. They are just.... really, really Big. Infinite. Not organic or mortal. It's like trying to comprehend the limitations of an ant, living on a planet, circling a sun, in a GALAXY the size of a DUST MOTE. The fact that the Force can even come CLOSE? Is literally miraculous.

But of course... OC? Not the Chosen One. The favorite, special, "I have Important Things For You" child. Which.... turns out to actually? Be kinda great. The realize that quickly. Which of course, is followed by the logical follow up.

Anikin? Fuckin SCREWED. Because he IS the Favorite Child.

Oh... oh No. Oh Fuck, that is a CHILD.

How easy it is, to cast blame, to judge, when you can't FEEL the Force in your EVERYTHING. All the time. Every moment of every day. Beautiful but cacophonous, like a symphony of screaming. Like staring at the sun and never going blind. It still hurts. But it's so... so bright. So Beautiful.

Connection. To the universe itself. Soul deep and transcendent. You can feel that the universe loves you. That there is good in people. That Life itself is worth protecting. But at the same time? It is... it is so much.

Because you can FEEL the ugly too.

The greed. The hate. The suffering. Lights snuffed out, in dark places of despair. Selfish actions and deep cruelties, like barbed wire against the soul. Thorns that hook and drag. And... and you're supposed to use your words. Just... just ASK them to stop? And, What? Hope that they WILL?

It HURTS!

But pain only begets more pain. Cruelty, more cruelties still. And only the Sith, believe they can use FORCE, in any sense of the word, to change a persons nature. The Jedi build. Grow. They work together, with those who are willing, towards something better. Defend, those who can not protect themselves.

Balance and growth. Not fire and chains.

And Oc is pretty sure Anikin will agree. No one should ever be in chains. Dead maybe. Or in jail. But never, ever, in chains. (And no one ever said they were pacifists. Just not war mongers. Sometimes the only answer IS to kill your opponent. To respect their choice, but honor your commitments. Protect those you swore to protect.)

Of course... OC? Going through Jedi training. It's Pre-Anikin days. Both she and Obi-Wan are fuckin Smol. She's not even in his Creche clan. She's over here in the "wanders off, lost in their own thoughts" Chill AF Creche Clan. Not Mr. "May you Live In Interesting Times And Have Padawans JUST LIKE YOOOOOOOU" and Co., over in the... "Energetic" Creche Clan.

None of HER Creche-mates BIT people, Obi-Wan.

WE keep our fuckin teeth to ourselves, Kenobi!

So, obviously, THEY don't have a lifetime ban on the "look, don't touch" fragile plants meditation garden. Very Rich in the Force. Good for focusing. Peaceful, really. And Oc? Has the time and space? To Consider™ things. Experiment. Ponder Fandom theories. Long "lost" Cannon techniques. Maybe have one-sided chats with the Force.

.....finally get CURIOUS™.

And wonder... if? Since, you know, through the Force, she can encourage and discourage plants to grow? And somewhat control animals. Why not... micro-organisms? Say, Midi-chlorians? Force healing is all ready a thing! So the Force all ready CAN interact with the body. Effect it. Change it. What is this, but more?

Really, all she'd have to do is find them, within herself, right? They're already a part of her! Yet... not. Do they consider themselves a part of her? Or is it symbiosis? Yeah, everyone says it can't be done. Perhaps shouldn't be done. But, frankly? They said the same about a LOT of Force techniques over the years. Big leaps in progress scare the SHIT out of folks. Cause if you miss? A LOT of people can die gorey.

So she sits. Mediates. Looks. Smaller... and smaller.... and smaller....

Until she finds whispers. Humming. Chatter.

As though each and every blood cell in her body had a teeny, tiny, whispery little voice. All chattering together, talking and arguing and discussing. One great hive of progress and industry. Complaining about a lack of potassium... huh. She goes and gets some fruit. Eats it. Then settles back into meditation.

They are JOYOUS! Potassium! Yaaaaay! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

Well... what'd ya know... huh. Hello there? She tries. Only to get a whispery and very alarmed ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! BODY CAN TALKヽ(°〇°)ﾉ ‽‽‽ Y-Yeah... she can. (How are they doing that?) The conversation? Only gets more surreal from there. Filled with... a surprising number of kaomojis.

But! She DOES figure out? How to increase her Midi-chlorians count. (By asking. Supplying needed resources for the expansion.) And WITH it? He awareness blooms.

The headache is... awful. The little guys(genderless) are WAY to enthusiastic. Working way too fast. If she didn't check the next morning? They might have continued to increase, indefinitely, until her veins were SOLID midi-chlorian. They just want to HELP, you see. And if you want More? Then surely FAR TOO MUCH is better, right?

(She may have fucked up. Oh god. Ow. Fuck. OW.)

Eventually she figure it out. Only gives her healer in training Creche mate a... few near heart attacks. He'll TOTALLY forgive her! (He will not. What the FUCK OC. Experimental medical procedures?! On YOURSELF!? You're not even HEALER TRACK!!!)

So NOW? She can reliably do it to OTHERS.

Need a bit more Midi-chlorians? Nearly Jedi quality but juuuuust under that cut off? She can fix that. Come. Be a jedi. Everyone should be a jedi. In FACT~! Whoops! Oh hey. Looks like all these Midi-chlorian counters are fuckin broken! (They look perfect fi-)(Broken! :] Do Not question me) So when you find that Orohan Child in desperate need of love and care? Just bring um on back!

They're TOTALLY Force sensitive. You can just tell. It's the vibes. Look at their lil face. Vibes, man. Just hand um here. For... reasons. You go get the paperwork. A working tester. And~? Oh would you look at THAT! Perfectly within acceptance range! Neat. Called it again, didn't you, Master Koon? You really do have an eye for these things. Anyway~ off to get this little one settled~~☆ *adoring cooing noises at the baby*

Weird, huh, how there suddenly just... SO MANY random orphan babies that are force sensitive? How 'bout that >.> strangest thing.

Of course, it's a god damned open secret. Everyone KNOWS. How could they not? But? Like with most things? If they don't Officially Know™? They don't have to stop it. And it DOES help both the Force AND those kids. Can be reversed if they don't like it, later. (They asked. All hypothetical of course.) So OC is basically Temple bound, so she can receive any new kiddos. To... you know... Check Their Health, on the way to ACTUAL healers.

But she's ALSO waiting. And as her skill increases? She can FEEL midi-chlorians, easier and easier. Until it gets to the point? Where if she's bored and zoning out? Not even ture meditation anymore? She accidentally tunes into Midi-chlorian Live~☆ the talk show. (What's the latest gossip from bodies nearest to her? Oh? Your second spleen is acting funny? Better remember to tell him to get that chec-)

Palpatine can't hide SHIT. It's literally in his blood.

And MAD at him.

This is NOT what they're FOR. He's taking TERRIBLE care of his body! Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOOOOOOU! You want power? Choke on it, you-!!!!!

Holy shit. So THATS what Sith Midi-chlorians feel like. Oh my god. They... they are SO MAD. Like tiny wasps. That have been violently shaken in a jar. She's never used the word "seething" in reference to someone before... but like...? If they COULD stab him? Man would be a thick paste at this point.

She's not sure what facial expression she makes. But it sure is obvious. As is the blatant, horrified staring. And refusal to get near him. HE doesn't notice, being to busy with the powerful. But the Jedi sure as fuck do. Because THEY sent her? Out with a Shadow. You know... just in case.

Cause she literally can not be replaced.

She not High Ranked... she's just priceless. Equal sort of significance, but in a very quiet, Soft Power sort of way. She is, after all, single handedly? Reversing centuries of slow population decline. Her entire Line promises to be the next Yoda's line. Priceless and with far reaching significance. So obviously, they're making sure that shit stays locked down.

No one is to so much as BREATHE about this.

Not until her great-great-GREAT Grand Padawan has passed their Knight Trials so HELP US. We LEARN from our mistakes! Need we bring out the records? Times we got cocky? Sith and political fuckery!? No. Oc stays INVISIBLE. There is no war in Ba Sing Se! Move along!

So like? Why is Miss Midi-chlorian Sensor and Future of the Jedi... making that face? She's literally NEVER made that face. What sort of monster do you have to BE? Huh? Shadow asks, casual as fuck, like he's not a plotting plotter who's planing terrible things, what's up?

She tells him. Palpatine has RANCID vibes. His midi-chlorians fucking DISPISE him. She's literally never seen that before. In anyone. Didn't even know that was an option. They would gleefully kill him if they could.

.....senator Palpatine is Force Sensitive?

Yes.

.......Interesting™(Ominous Intent)

Says local Shadow, who is perhaps putting together some dots. May not be getting the correct picture. But is getting the Vibe. And boy howdy, he does NOT like the vibe. Has got himself some questions. Cause Mr "uwu I'm harmless" lil mask? Only holds up? If you're willing to believe him.

Shadows don't buy that shit. Shadows? Need receipts. Full character statements and an audit on the fucking hospital you were BORN AT. Every credit you picked up off the side walk, why, and where you spent it.

Give them your Secrets. Or they'll keep digging until they find them.

uwu Their ASS. Gonna tear this bitch APART.

......huh. So THIS is why you guys keep accidentally getting married to Mandalorians on missions. (We agreed not to mention that.) (Fucker, I agreed to nothing. Shouldn't have eaten my special Me Day pudding if you didn't want me to gossip.) Man, her friends are... a trip. Uh... have fun? Happy hunting? I guess? *feral Jedi noises*

She? Continues to wait. Palpatine? Begins to have a VERY bad time. (Ha! Get fucked!)

Unfortunately, it's not fast enough to stop his dumbass plans. He just gets desperate. Figures more power is the answer. Because of course he does. So here comes the "oh nooooo~ my planets under attack~ better manipulate a child and make me president of the galaxy!" Plan. Fucker. Bastard.

She can't stop that.

But what she CAN do? Is be there. Waiting. For HIM.

Her little brother. Her son. Her center of the universe. The most important man to ever live... and also? A scared little boy. Far, far from home. The only other person who understands just how BIG the Force is. How much it weighs. How even as it crushs you... you can't bear to put it down. Not even for a moment. Because it loves you. And it hurts, that it does.

And... oh. Oh.

He is so very small.

Dirty, tired, in lovingly mended clothes that are barely beyond scrap. With bright, bright eyes like hope and starlight. He sings inside. Like freedom. Like hope. Daring to ask "why CAN'T you be kinder?", "why CAN'T we be free?". A storm of change. Bright and beautiful.

A child. Great and small, all at once.

Oc can't help but smile. Because, oh. Oh how long, she has waited to meet him, Anikin Skywalker. Welcome. Are you hungry? Cold? Let's get cleaned up. See the healers first. The council can wait.

Chips are removed and food is shared. Warm clothes, soft and new. And she can not help but smile, smile, smile. Even as her face begins to hurt. For years she has gathered. Planned. Studied and trained. As though some part of her knew. As though all for this moment. Taking one of those small hands in hers. Looking right in his eyes.

"It's going to be okay."

Because it IS. Because regardless of what they decide? OC will be with him. Regardless, she's going to go and make sure his mother is free. Not bought, not sold. Free. She has friends who can help. Will learn how to remove the chip herself if she must.

And? He IS going to be a Jedi. Even if he never become a Coruscant Jedi. Even if he decides he doesn't agree with how they do things or they decide the disagree with how HE does things. The Jedi have changed before, they will change again. Living things are meant to grow. Meant to change. And people can be both wrong and right at the same time. It's messy.

But what's important? Is Anikin is not alone anymore. And Oc is gonna help teach him. And someday? HE'S gonna break chains. So many chains. Gonna help people heal. If he wants to. (He does) But for right now? A quick talk with some old people. Maybe a nap. And we either get settled or arrange a trip back to Tatooine. To pick up your mom. In the meantime! You can figure out what classes she might wanna take. Where seems like a good place to settle. *chatting as they walk off, hand in hand*

Just? Sometimes a Padawan-ship is you, your Teacher, your OTHER Teacher, and her body guards that teach you Cool Knife Tricks and how to gamble, behind Obi-Wan's back! :D

@legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @leftnotright @babbling-babull @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @lolottes

[floweringtheflowersssssss]

stepmommy!

18+, mdni, incest, stepmom caitlyn, bottom caitlyn, non-con, vaginal fingering, cheating.

───────────────────────────────

it's not like you planned this ever, really! it wasn't like you put it on your calendar to spend the entire saturday doing mischievous shit──but you did; you crossed the boundaries set, and you nearly ruined everything.

nearly

"a-ah!──s-stop, please s-stop──"

you're three fingers deep into your pretty little stepmommy as she whimpers, you don't stop. in fact, you speed up, dragging the digits along her spongy walls as your other hand smooths down her frizzy hairs damp with sweat from your touches.

"mommy," you coo, your lips brushing her ear. you're fully clothed while she's just in her flimsy lace bra, her nightgown and panties scattered along the floor.

caitlyn shuddered, her entire body shaking; she whimpered, actually fucking whimpered, the stern, proper woman nowhere to be seen as her stepdaughter opened up her pussy.

"you know you like it...." teeth nipped at her earlobe, and a strangled noise left caitlyn's lips. your thumb added to the mixture, rubbing at her swollen clit, the pressure making her cerulean eyes fill with tears. "why don't you give in? hmm? enjoy this, mommy.

your pretty stepmom squirmed in your hold, but it was useless. you were straddling the back of her thighs, free hand pressing into her lower back, keeping her pinned to the mattress.

the one she shared with your father

"s-stop" caitlyn stammered, her pale cheeks bursting with red tears that fell down her cheeks, staining the pillow beneath her. it was a sinful sight how she begged for you to stop but at the same time cried when you slowed down.

"oh, mommy," you chuckled, "do you really want me to stop?"

you crooked your fingers up right into that spongy spot that had her thighs tensing up and a choking noise leaving the back of her throat like clockwork. her hips rolled down against your fingers, and she soaked the pillow with her drool as her eyes rolled back.

yes, yes, yes, this woman was at the forefront of all of your carnal desires. how long did you go with pushing those feelings down...? how many dinners had you sat through, how many mornings were you woken up by her sweet voice, you deserved this; you deserved to have her at your mercy.

you chuckle deeply when she doesn't answer you, "i didn't think so."

caitlyn opens her mouth to say something, possibly to grumble, but you're sliding in a fourth finger, and she's coming undone.

it isn't sweet and soft; it's messy and dirty, her arousal costing your hand and the sheets. her walls wet and tight, squeezing around your fingers, pain and pleasure blooming under her skin. it's so good, ten times better than her husband could ever make her feel. while he struggled, you found the places to make her feel good almost immediately. it's addicting.

"this—this isn't right." caitlyn's pants were blinking rapidly to try and clear the stars from her vision.

"oh," your brow raises, and your lips quirk. your thumb kneads the flesh of the bend of her hip as you chuckle. caitlyn shivers at the touch; it's grounding just as much as it was forbidden.

"this can't happen again," caitlyn says weakly. your smile dropped, replaced by something akin to anger. caitlyn doesn't notice this and continues, far too overcome with guilt as she sits up, closing her legs and holding them together tightly. she continues, "i am your stepmother; if your father finds out you did this, he'll be angry."

you don't say a word; your throat feels dry.

caitlyn raises her chin up in a subtle show of confidence even as her cobalt hairs stick to her tear-stained cheeks and the bottom half of her body is soaked in her own cum. your eyes drift down her body, admiring her curves. the slickness of her cunt is still so wet despite already coming.

"are you listening to me?" caitlyn snapped, waving her hands in front of your face. her dumb expression changed into something stern. she was slowly turning back into the caitlyn you knew. "you better be listening, young lady, because──"

you couldn't take her nagging anymore. lunging forward, you pressed her back into the bed, your hand curling around her throat and fingers pressing right back into her.

"h-hey! nnngh!──"

you swallowed up caitlyn's moan with your lips as you finger-fucked her harder this time. the both of you kissed, well, more like you were shoving your tongue down her throat, and she was struggling to take it. saliva was dripping down her chin, her eyes were rapidly filling with condensation, and holy shit, did the front door just open──

yes

a wicked gleam of satisfaction passes through your eyes as caitlyn shakes with the fear of getting caught.

it was a dirty little fantasy. the prodigal daughter and the gentle stepmother, it's as disgusting as it is alluring.

"girls!" you hear your father's voice ring out through the house. "i'm home early!"

caitlyn clenches down on your fingers. dirty little whore. she likes this—the thrill of getting caught in bed with her stepdaughter.

your fingertips press into her sweet spot, and she whimpers.

footsteps ascend up the stairs quickly, eager to see his family.

"shhhh." the squelching noises are a dead giveaway. the faint squeaking of the mattress springs as you slam your fingers into her leaky entrance; it's so wet and dirty, and the room smells like her cum and──

you apply just the right amount of pressure to caitlyn's clit, and she's falling limp as she comes again. pity she comes too fast; you'd like to draw it out and make her beg.

but you don't stop.

she's a trembling mess. her thighs shaking and her shell-pink lips parted and her eyes rolled back as you kept going, you never backed down from something you wanted, and god did you want her.

"girls? are you home?" your father calls out again, and caitlyn whimpers.

perhaps it's the fear of getting caught that had tears welling up in her eyes, or maybe it was just the humiliation and the disgust at herself for doing such a sinful act. how could she let her stepdaughter do this to her?

"mommy," your voice is a whisper, breath hot again on her face. this is so, so wrong, but what's even more wrong is that caitlyn wants more. fuck him, fuck this stupid house, fuck those stupid, brainless marriages, fuck her husband.

obediently behaving for the first time of the night, caitlyn arched her back, showing off every dip and curve that you loved so much. you swore she was sculpted by the gods to look so beautiful and ethereal.

"such a pretty mommy..." your free hand trails up her sides, fingertips cold against her heated skin. you grip the underside of her breast and sigh, enjoying how her breast jiggles each time you tweak her covered nipples. such a pretty mommy and all yours.

"moan for me, mommy. tell the world how good your stepdaughter is making you feel."

idk i dont rlly like this

[bisexualbrainrots]

I'm loving the responses to this fic, so here's another snippet, we're getting steamier everyone! hope you guys are enjoying the process.

if you want to read: part 1, part 2, wip part 3.

Buck shakes when one of Tommy's fingers hooks on the towel, gripping but not making an effort to pull it off yet.

He takes that as a sign and raises his hands through Tommy's arms until they find each other on the back of his neck, fingers interlocking. Buck closes a little more of the gap as he nudges his nose with his boyfriend's, greeting in the form of a soft ‘hi’ that's reciprocated immediately. 

“Were you okay back there?”

Buck nods “It wasn't so bad, you know. I got to think a lot,” he smiles, his gaze descends to Tommy's lips and a sense of hunger creeps up in him.

Tommy notices and smirks “And what were all these things you thought of?” his free hand moves up to Buck's waist, holding onto it tight.

It's this little sense of possessiveness that drives Buck crazy. What Tommy doesn’t say with his words, he shows it with his touch, and when it comes to his possessive side he’s more… physical about it. He’d put his hand on the small of Buck’s back as they walk down the street, he’d hook his fingers to the belt loops and pull Buck closer, he’d hold and squeeze the back of Buck’s neck when they’re at a get-together, and he’d leave as many marks as he could everywhere on Buck’s body.

He still has that one bite mark on his hip.

Buck nips at Tommy's top lip “You, your mouth, your neck, your fingers,” his lips graze Tommy's as he speaks but he doesn't go beyond that, letting the desire linger in the air, “I thought of those fingers inside of me, opening me up until my legs are shaking.”

Before he can say anything else, Tommy's lips are crashing onto his, giving him a bruising kiss that Buck happily reciprocates as his hands shift to hold his boyfriend's face.

As the kiss deepens they move around the room, until Buck feels his calves hit the end of the bed and he's stopped, whining a little as Tommy's tongue plays with his.

“Fuck… fuck,” Tommy's wicked gaze is all over Buck, examining every fraction of his features and licking his lips as he stays on Buck's eyes, and his voice drops an octave as he whispers “What am I gonna do with you?”

God, he loves it when Tommy gets like this. Even though it hasn't been that long since they started doing it, Buck has become obsessed with the way Tommy’s eyes and demeanor can change when he's aroused. It's almost like lust sets in and spreads around, all the way from the depths of his veins to the surface of his pores. Sometimes he remains calm and collected, even when he’s driving Buck to the edge of madness; other times he becomes a beast, wrapped in this frenzy that has him making noises that could make Buck come untouched.

Even though he knows Tommy will be careful with him, Buck can’t help but wish for him to ruin him.

“Fuck me,” Buck takes a deep breath when Tommy chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh flowing through his body and settling deep in his bones.

The hand on his waist shifts to his cheek, cupping his face with a tenderness only Tommy can give in a moment like this “Be patient, Evan. We don’t have to rush and I… I really want to take my time with you.”

Buck’s knees almost falter when Tommy gets the towel off his hips, and he has very little time to think about the fact that he’s completely naked because Tommy pushes him onto the bed, covering his body as he joins their lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

taglist! (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @likeapaperplane @fenrirscarsback @sad-girl-hours23 @station18908 @all-the-feelss @rubydaiquiri @superlock-in-the-tardis

[nerdby]

So I avoid the Loki fandom like the plague because there is a lot of bigotry there that has to do with the overlaps between Marvel and their borrowing from Norse mythology, and a lot of (Norse) Pagans being straight up Nazis because Hitler was a batshit occultist. And I was a Norse Pagan, so I'm allowed to say that. However, it has come to my attention that a fanfiction author called @lokis-mynx is being bullied by bigots, and if it's for the reasons I suspect then....Well, incels, you've got the wrong bitch.

No offense @lokis-mynx.

And I'm not pretending to be someone else. I've had this blog for like two years, my name is listed in the About, and there is a picture of me on my Goodreads profile. Although I really need to update my About cause I stopped using Goodreads and admittedly, I did change my username once. But I've always done that. Since I was like fourteen I've never been able to settle on a username that I loved and wanted to use forever. I don't see why changing it is such a big deal or automatically makes someone untrustworthy???

I just blog about other stuff now.

So if the fucking Nazis in the Loki fandom and Pagan community could kindly fuck off that'd be great. Cause unlike a lot of people in the MCU fandom -- and I don't mean that as a diss, I promise -- I've read The Eddas and I can say for a fact that

Loki has been transgender nonbinary since at least the fourth century, and that doesn't make him or the Marvel character a weakling cause trans people are magical and strong as fuck. That's why they've always been worshipped as deities, according to mythology from all around the world.

And your pathetic whining and bullying isn't going to change that, got it?

Feel free to reblog with bigoted bullshit, so I can block your asses.

Your Boi,

Milo🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

[fewsystemsinonebody]

list by host as they made me do it lol:

Albert - he's funny and adorable, he reminds me that I can be childish no matter of the age

April - that he isn't a walking stereotype of goth (not that I dislike them but he doesn't let himself be put into a box)

Arnie - a lot of fun memories with him, he was always so helpful and I wish we were closer again but we try

Benji - he's so appreciative and full of surprises, also he's adorable as a dog

Brie - I know I can count on him no matter of his mental state, I wish I could support him more, he's a great big brother figure, he's also a walking meme and a complex person that deserves the best, I adore him

Brandon - it's hard to put into words but I just enjoy his presence and can't imagine our system without him

Dave - he's sometimes annoying, not in a bad way, but I know we have him on our side

Gru - because he's carefree, sometimes I'm jealous of him even if I want him to understand things more but then he goes sad and I'm worried...

Hakan - golden heart despite of people thinking he's a monster

Jack - my best mate twin that is always therer for me to hug the sadness outta me and spend time together

Jacob - he changed so much, I'm proud of him even if he falls sometime

Jimmy - my precious lil bro, he is such a prankster but it breaks my heart whenever he cries, he's very smart too despite of being one of the youngest of us

Jerry - he's no show off besides when he doesn't bite his tongue before saying whatever comes to his mind out loud lol but I see his silent help... thank you

Lio - the first one to fight for us on dc servers haha, became such a sunshine after a storm, love him singing as he makes funny faces every single time making me laugh

Lu - he finds himself a bad guy but I'm thankful for his chaotic nature saving us more than once, you don't have to be perfect <3

Marcel - sorry to say that but... you're a child in a big man and I know you wanna be seen as mature but I see you, you're trying your best even if sometimes you can't force yourself to act on something

Monty - the fact you always are in control even if you're not, I know he's overworked and I wish he rest more but if not him we would suffer a lot in the inner world

Nat - I know he's blaming himself for failing so many times and going against me but he forgets to see how many times he was there for me even if for minor things, especially when my dad fallen ill, I love you forever

Red - thanks to him we are more safe and I also would like him to enjoy life more as he seems interesting and hardworking

Pink - you're not ashamed, I know, you're also assertive and teach me to feel less guilty, I fought for you and always will hopefully

Marco - you quickly became a big part of our brain, at first such a grump but now you're so lovely like an uncle to me, I know that even if we disagree you are trying to protect us

Five - right hand of Marco, he can dominate him and take care of him despite of being so small, I'm glad Marco has someone who supports him all the way!

Nin - I know he means well, he's trying to do the best he can

Caspian - you're not a curse, I don't know you well but I saw you being a rebel, thinking for yourself and understanding too as you're open minded, you are such a good boy :D

Koda Nova - sun to the Nin's moon, light definitely

Bonny, Afsan and Mico - incredible trio, hard to explain maybe but you definitely won the place among us

Soprano - I brought you back because you took us away from therapist, you made us stand up for ourselves, you said "fuck the reputation" just for me to not fuse against my will, forever grateful, you're also not a bore ;)

Bronco - I know you think you're just a copy of Greg but I know you're so much more, you have to find out, take your time

Maylo - I forgive you, I know you have such a great responsibility from such a young age but you dropped everything and went against everything just to protect your favorite family, you're my father figure, dad no. 2 and I don't want you to leave again, missed you for months

Greg - you always make me laugh, world is empty without you here, your low loud noise when you sing Sanah and when you are here with me when I am scared of you know what, Brie needs you - don't leave again, ok?

Szymon - you're not just an anxiety, clumsiness nor gossip, you're a survivor, you're intelligent and you're very brave

Ursus - no idea who you are yet that much but I find you a cool character for sure hah

Bartek - I know you hate when someone says you're an anger holder, even now, but I want you to know it's not all you are but I'm still glad you can be at times as we have to finally be sometimes

Maciej - saved you today, look how much you've done good things in one day, I think you will prove your worth even more in the future, don't waste your chance as I would be sad to see you go :(

Key - you don't have to survive everything, I'm impressed but I know how hard it is, let's enjoy life a bit more too, alright?

Deer - you're one of the most optimistic ones, recently if not you it would end up really poorly for us, thx for helping me and Brie and you're also such a good writer like Nat and Brie

Nikita - my little pony, I wanna see you smile, I like you being here

Adam - despite of how you act sometimes you're one of the biggest heroes I knew, always ready to help/save/take care of others

Cyprian - because you're so extreme sometimes it reminds me we have rights and will always have each other's backs

Jeff - I know you're pseudomemories are complicated but I don't find you egoistic, I'm glad you are finally thinking about yourself putting yourself first and yet still care about others instead of stomping on them, I know it's super hard for you and you wanna hurt yourself but you hurt us with it too, don't take away my guilt on yourself so much

Ryszard - you're a fighter and a lover

Why - every version of you is great

Dagmar - we still need you even if you're so complicated

John - from the moment you appeared I had mixed feelings about you but you became such a memorable persona I think it would tear a huge part of us if you were gone, I slowly learn to love myself because of you, thanks

Topielec - you're such a good guy for so much you've been through and it reminds me this is who we are alltogether, we deserve better

Snow - you just appeared but I'm not scared of you, I get it man, take your time

question suggestion

what is one thing you like about each headmate? don’t have to answer for every headmate, answer in the way you’re most comfortable with. just some plural positivity :]

question 79:

[scribe-of-hael]

Why Starscream?

I talk alot about the ever fumbling of Starscream's character alot here. Hasbro is no stranger to the mishandling of this character or having been tossed around form one set of writers to another inna desperate attempt to change him only to retcon him.

But what I haven't talked about it the positives in what they have done with Starscream's character or the potential his character had glimpses to be.

I think Starscream being a fan favorite is not new to anyone for the 40 years he has been aorund. Some ppl love him, love to hate him. Or love to hate him. Either way, Starscream manages to make you think about him depaite what light he is in.

For me, I was introduced to the character in 2008 when Transformers animated aired in Cartoon Network. So yes Tom Kenny was my first Starscream and I adore him 💖

But what drew me to Starscream, besides his large build, magenta color, and cliche silly bad guy destined to fail. Was his insufferable personality being clever and cunning, but fumbling at every turn. He was menacing was also silly and kind dumb in ways. He was a treat every time he was in screen. I knew whatever was going to happen would be filled with choactic schemes and banter.

Depsite knowing he was a bad guy. There was also a part of me that really wanted to see Starscream succeed, or at the very least have some sort of win and live to fight another day at that chance. I felt with all the trouble he had gone through he deserved at least SOMTHING for it all.

Yes it was never going to happen, he was written to fail. But also it seemed that was suposse to be a reoccurring antagonist for the s4 that never came around.

But you can imagine my devastated 9 year old self at seeing two of my favorite characters loosong their lives in one episode. I was so upset and angery , esspcially when I begged for him to run away so he could get away.

I think there is an aspect of Starscream, that is shared in alot of his iterations is the fact Starscream is an underdog. He bullied, undermined, never taken seriously, degraded and fumbles almost every single opportunity. Even in some stories characters pointing out that even if Starscream some how gets the upper hand, he will eventually fail.

You can't help but want Starscream to get some sort of win even though you know it could end up bad for everyone eles. But its a big thing that Starscream is his own worst enemy. With an ego and insecurity to make it worse than what it already is.

If Starscream ever truly locked in and ignored all those down playing him and put his ego aside i do think he would be a unstoppable force. But because of these flaws he is left to go from ine failed scheme to the next. There is not to say Starscream isn't capable , skilled or knowledgeable. He is , but he gets in his own way of success. Which I feel is relatable to alot of ppl.

That and what i find to be Starscream's most incredible trait. His persistence and determination.

It doesn't matter WHAT it is, a goal, a means to an end, revenge or pure fucking spite. Starscream is the most persistent mother fucker I have ever seen in media. He just never ever give up for any reason even if that some how is a horrible idea. Once he sets his mind on somthing he is going to go through with it.

Coupled with some iterations of being immortal, Starscream being someone who will endlessly scheme, chase and blow anything in his way is both terrifying as it is and incredible trait of his.

I always admired in TFA how Starscream (despite him taking a while to maybe rethink his tactics) just endlessly went afterMegatron, over and over and over again depaite failing. He tried a diffenrt method. He still stuck to his goal . Yes he fumbled like he always does but it fueled that want for him to get a win ! I felt like he earned it.

I think at Starscream's core he is a driven character, ambitious, determined fueled by spite, which is a dangerous combo with ego. But I admire that dwpaite the odds always being aginst him whether in plot or in the writers room.

Starscream will find a way to live rent free in ppls minds and make his presence know to all. I don't see this Star fading soon, I think he shines even brighter depsite it all.

[mithriel-of-mithlond]

Thoughts while reading TGR:

Jean's mother drove the point home early by doing what?????

Jeremy's stepfather's brothers are cops ok ok that explains at least some things

The back to back sitting on a bed 😭

BRYSON SHUT THE FUCK UP

JEREMY ALAN?????? Hello????

Ok MATHILDA SHUT THE FUCK UP, TOO

Wasn't expecting one of Jeremy's hookups to make an entrance

"You go away when you go home. "

Derek and Derrick annoying Jean 👌

The peach

Derek's "Oui señor" had me dying 😂

Jean checking Jeremy out in the shower

Kid dying from a beating at Evermore, why am I shocked, I literally gasped

"I didn't know you served" LOL they really are idiots XD

Jean still making sure Cody is comfortable around Pat and Ananya

His fear of food and traveling alone but feeling safe at Laila's 🥺

Jean's pronunciation of Jeremy's name

Discussing a loss of a sibling with Jeremy

Xavier explaining his surgery

THE. FIREWORKS.

Jean stopping himself before he could hit the freshmen 😢

I don't trust the car. Like at all.

ANDREW MINYARD IN THE FLESH

The foxes didn't know about Neil visiting Jean??????? Oh the drama

Kevin you diva, what the fuck was that with Jean at the house, I can't handle the angst

Wow the interview went to shit. Who would have guessed that..

"You are one of my Trojans" 😭😭

Kevjean addressing their trauma 😭 it's a start I hope

'Emotional procrastination' I love that. Nora put into words something I've been practicing majority of my life

Bryson's "You don't know who you're messing with" oh honey, YOU don't know who you're messing with!!

Jealous Jeremy if I squint????

JEAN IN THERAPY THE NATURE IS HEALING

The postcard 😭

Jean's little cup he made

Noah nooo 😭

Jean's motion sickness - me too bro, me too it's so annoying

JEAN TEACHING JEREMY FRENCH What parallel universe is this??

Jeremy taking the stairs with Jean

The "Jeremy"... I can't

Jean's crush on Laila is funny

The banquet oh no

Protective Jean oh yes

Jeremy's choice of lovers oh no

Jeremy's backstory oh no, I need more time to process all of that

Protective Jean again

Jean focused on the game and being literal savage on the court

"HAVE A WINNING DAY" OH MY GOD

Jeremy praising Jean's performance on the court

Why do the interviewers have to destroy everything?

Jean protecting Jeremy against Zane

Zane Reacher, you will rot in hell for this

Coach Rhemann I love you. The way he approached the situation was kinda brutal but it needed to be done. Jean could finally let everything out.

The whole sequence in Rhemann's house

"but better to be reckless fools than Ravens" DO YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING, DO YOU HEAR ME??????

Fathers DO YOU STILL HEAR ME SCREAMING???????

"I deserve to get better" I'M LOSING MY VOICE SCREAMING

Oh no, not the house 🥺 rip Barkbark

Agent Browning is so done with these exy obsessed mafia kids but honestly? I don't blame him

Thea turning on the Ravens 😶

How Jeremy didn't turn out to be a total dick surrounded by family members like that is beyond me.

Another Raven suicide.. and the fact Jean still cares about his former teammates despite all that happened to him at Edgar Allan..

Mathilda bombarding Jeremy with phone calls because she doesn't trust him

Jeremy's favourite color is blue hmmm ok ok

"brown like the gaze that sought Jean out in every room" AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Jean and Laila's conversation on the balcony

The whole end sequence with the dog is so precious. The fact it was Jean who picked the pup out, the dog immediately liking him, Jabberwocky Moreau, Jean's bi panic, "the rules have changed". Perfection.

EDIT: Fuck I forgot to write down the disastrous Foxes vs. Ravens game. My bad, it was too late. Anyways, hopefully all of the injured foxes would be back at no time.

[nat20composure]

Of Mirrors and Men

S3 E4 had all of the adult timeline characters come face to face with their own mirrors and I am so like....agh the set up of all of their impending dooms being a direct reflection of their own behaviors back at them? I suspect that Walter is actually the person who is out to get Shauna (and that he also is lying to Misty when he says the bartender tried to call the others). I think that they're setting it up so that he is using a lot of Misty's own tactics (damaging the car, researching everybody's past, conveniently showing up in a time of need situation he created), and that this is going to be how Misty is forced to confront the way that she seeks connection with the other girls. Van and Tai having swapped places as well, and being reflections of each other. Taisha is desperately seeking greater meaning (and consequently, an ability to change Van's circumstances) the way that Van did in the wilderness. Van also hesitantly following in Tai's lead, stepping in selectively in a search for reason. Both of them being so opposed to the other's change despite how desperately they wanted it in the past. Shauna being forced into the freezer and her BEING the mirror. Even after all these years she still perceives herself to be a reflection of Jackie, despite the fact that her concept and memory of Jackie is so clearly based off of Shauna herself. And then Lottie,,,,oh my God Lottie,,,,,,,she's the only one who's actually forced to face her own literal reflection in this episode and it's because she is All Alone. She doesn't have anyone to see herself in, she doesn't even have the memory of one to torture herself. The closest she has to it is the wilderness, and even then, there is this over looming threat and fear that all of it was just Her. Her final scene being her apologizing, her trying to affirm that she understands, when nobody is there to hear it? I'm going to die. It doesn't matter

They're all at the mercy of their mirrors, and consequently to themselves. And that being juxtaposed with the trial in which they all, in some way or another, sentenced Ben to his death? They are so fucking doomed. Peak cinema

[brw]

Okay, I've finished every Alpha Flight volume, all the limited series' and the one-shot, and most of the cameo appearances, and can I just say, I have truly no idea what the fuck people are on about when they say that Aurora and Sasquatch's relationship is uniquely awful, or abusive, or incredibly toxic, and I can't tell if it's because I have a uniquely high tolerance for weird and toxic relationship dynamics in comics (I have fun reading a lot of Ant-Man and Wasp comics, I love Vision and the Scarlet Witch, I'm a ReedSue warrior, etc), or if everyone else had Alpha Flight be their first 80s comics, because Sasquatch hasn't done like, anything! And I know she's my favourite, so I'm naturally inclined to be more gentle than most people, but even with that context, I feel like I'm usually pretty good at recognising when my faves do something messed up. I'm a Hank McCoy fan, I know how to criticise a blorbo for war crimes. but Sasquatch doesn't even do that very much until the last 20 issues of the series, and it wasn't Aurora. Because, okay, here are Sasquatch's crimes in Alpha Flight;

Attempted to calm Jeanne Marie down by explaining the relationship between Langkowski and Aurora. In this, the narratior dialogue literally says that Jeanne Marie does not feel the disgust she would expect of herself for learning of her altar's sexual activities, and that's what makes her react like that. It has nothing to do with Sasquatch's actions, and everything to do with Jeanne Marie's complex and negative feelings about her own sexuality, of which Sasquatch was kept in the dark about by Mac until this issue. Alpha Flight V1 #4

I've seen people say that Sasquatch persuing a relationship with Aurora after this fact was wrong, and I can see where they're coming from, but it does feel deeply infantilising, frankly. Would you say that about Betty Ross and her relationship with Bruce and Hulk? What about Marlo and Joe Fixit? Aurora clearly was interested in Sasquatch and was determined in pursuing that relationship, and I don't think Sasquatch is a bad person for returning those feelings and that desire any more than I think like, Janet van Dyne is a bad person for loving Hank still when he was Yellowjacket. This isn't an uncommon dynamic in cape comics, especially in the 80s. I don't know what to tell you. Acting like someone continuing to pursue someone with dissociative identity disorder is an awful person is just a really odd take to me, particularly again with the context that this is not an uncommon plotline in the remit of 80s comics. Is everyone who ever dated Moon Knight getting cancelled now, too? Or is it only women with D.I.D. who are too mentally ill to be capable of relationships and of consent? I'm not denying that the way this was written was ableist, and misogynistic, but acting like Sasquatch is awful for being romantically involved with a woman with D.I.D. while not being incredibly informed on D.I.D. is bizarre to me because you can say that about SO many comic book characters with dissociative identity disorder!

Camouflaged Aurora's x-gene when she asked Sasquatch to change her powers to be no longer reliant on Northstar. I've seen some people act like this entire situation was non-consensual, but no, Aurora went out of her way to ask to be changed to not rely on Northstar's powers with her light ability. Alpha Flight V1 #17

I don't think like, nonconsensual body experimentation is a good thing, but again, this is small potatoes to me. I'd understand it if it was Sasquatch changing Aurora's powers without permission, but the only thing she did was mask the X-gene, and I'd like to remind everyone this is the universe where they canonically have giant genocidal murder robots. Like I'm sorry but I just simply do not think this is the worst thing someone has ever done to their partner in comics! And granted, when Reed did the same thing to Franklin in the most recent FF vs X-Men, I also didn't care and I was on his side, so I might just be built different, but some of you people would not survive reading 70s Avengers comics. Is it a great moment? Of course not, but I think it's an understandable action in the universe where mutant genocides come monthly, and I do not think this holds water as proof Sasquatch is an awful abusive person, particularly when the reason for Aurora wanting to no longer be connected with Northstar came after multiple instances of Northstar assaulting Aurora, purposefully endangering her, slut-shaming her, being very controlling towards her regarding her relationship with Sasquatch as if that was not a choice she was making, and even after when Sasquatch was dead, continuted to be incredibly ableist to both her and the disabled man she was involved with, Roger Bochs. Like, I appreciate and I KNOW that their relationship has grown and has gotten much better, but at this point in time, frankly, Aurora was right to want to be separated from him, I think, because he was not a good brother to her.

And in any case, the mutant gene thing, the actual issue and the actual symbol of non consensual body modification, almost immediately gets forgotten. Writers have since talked about and discuss the way her powers were altered; none of them in the main Alpha Flight series have ever acknowledged her X-Gene being masked, so outside of this one issue, it literally does not come up and is never framed as an issue. I think you could, and I'd be interested if they did, but I do not think altering Aurora's powers WHEN ASKED to distance her from her brother, who at this time, was a distinctly controlling, cruel figure in her life, was a bad thing to do. The sense of ownership over her, the justifiying mutant bigotry, sure, that's messed up, but I've read every single fucking issue after that, and it does not come up again, so you're going to have to try harder to convince me.

And after this, that's sort of it? Like, I'm trying to think of anything else that happens in any of these runs, and nothing's really coming to me. They don't get back together after Sasquatch comes back, and don't get back together for the rest of the run.

I guess there's the bit where Sasquatch helps instituionalise Aurora in that random issue of Wolverine (#173), but like, I'm really sorry, you'll have to forgive me if a random issue of a Frank Tieri comic that only happened to set up Frank Tieri's Weapon X series which is universally hated by Alpha Flight/Aurora fans isn't something I'm gonna sit here and call core characterisation. It happened because Tieri wanted Aurora in that series so she could get sexualised and abused, and to my knowledge he has never written Sasquatch or Aurora before or since his Weapon X series, so again, you'll have to forgive me if this, to me, feels like the equivalent of pulling out Bendis' Avengers Disassembled as a core piece of Wanda Maximoff characterisation. Like, no. That is ridiculous. What are you talking about.

Look, alright, look. I'm aware, as I've repeated, that I have an unnaturally high tolerance for comic book nonsense. I like 60s comics a lot. I read all of Force Works, and Silver Sable and the Wild Pack recently. You think Byrne was weird in Alpha Flight? Try reading his West Coast Avengers. So it makes sense that some people would read these moments, and see them as unforgivable, because they aren't deep in the weeds of what nonsense comic books can be. They haven't sat down and read Avengers #200, one of the most infamously awful comics ever. They haven't followed the trajectory of Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne's relationship up to it's divorce, and afterwards, and seen how misogyny, ableism and saneism all combined in a very odd 15 years of comics. They haven't read fucking Force Works. Or Silver Sable and the Wild Pack. Or Super Soldiers. Or any of the other obsucre, awful comics from the 90s I've been reading. Fine!

But what I don't understand is the volume of people who have read all of Alpha Flight who think these are completely unforgivable, awful actions, when they barely rank a D tier to me in the grand scheme of comic book crimes. Like, okay. In issues #59 and #60 of Marvel Team-Up, Spider-Man teams up with Yellowjacket and Wasp, and over the course of those issues, we learned Hank injected Janet with like, extra Wasp DNA to make her powers stronger while she was sleeping as a surprise anniversay present. And when Janet finds out, she's like, "😊 You're so thoughtful", and you're telling me the worst thing you've ever read is someone agreeing to change someone's powers very slightly to not be reliant on the twin brother she has an incredibly fraught relationship with, a twin brother who purposefully tried to force you into a wild bloodlust to scare his sister so he could be the sole person she trusted??? That's the worst thing you've ever read????And I was under the impression that only weird people who read a lot of comics and are naturally used to this sort of thing read Alpha Flight, but I guess not??

Whatever. I guess I just expected a lot more and a lot worse in the grand scheme of comic books from the way people were talking about them and this relationship, but while I don't like, think these two are good for each other, or should stay together, their relationship at most just seems like regular John Byrne shenanigans, and I've read too many John Byrne comics for that to phase me. Did you guys go from reading slice of life webcomics to Alpha Flight with no in between? Sasquatch doesn't even leave Aurora to die in the Antarctic like Rogue did with Gambit (Uncanny X-Men #350)....

[brazenautomaton]

Blaming the voters when you lose an election is like blaming the points when you lose a football game.

Trump is incompetent, hypocritical, emotionally incontinent, and a total piece of shit. He was still better able to appear like he cared about what people wanted and had a plan to get what they wanted. Cutting government waste is a great idea, if it wasn't done in the most incompetent and careless way possible. A lot of people want to push back against wokeness, or DEI, or CRT, or social justice, or political correctness, or whatever the name of the ideology is that we're not allowed to name in the hopes that we won't be able to notice it, but they didn't sign up for "we're going to Ctrl+F for the word transition and cancel every program that has it no matter the context." The Democratic position of "enforcing our borders is bad and we have entire cities where we declare that you're not allowed to care that people are here illegally" is very unpopular among the demographics it's supposed to appeal to along with everyone else.

Trump knew what people wanted and knew how to offer it to them. Because he's Trump, he neither knew nor cared about how to actually provide it. He was up against a candidate who did not know or offer what people wanted. The Democrats are astonishingly bad at this. They don't know how to reach people, don't know what people want, don't know how people see them, don't realize that people can remember the things they say and do, don't realize their credibility has been annihilated. They believe they are entitled to people's votes and feel betrayed when people don't vote for them.

Kamala's candidacy was absolutely doomed from minute one. The Democrats had swore up and down Joe Biden was in perfect mental health and mocked anyone who thought otherwise for believing an absurd right-wing conspiracy theory. Then when Biden appeared in the debate, he was actively sundowning on national television, and people remembered that, even when Kamala became the candidate. Kamala Harris was deeply unpopular, an utter black hole of charisma, a literal diversity hire who could not even make it to the Democratic party, and stood for some very unpopular things that people remembered even after she became the candidate and refused to act like she stood for anything.

Kamala Harris was a worse candidate than Donald Trump. Kamala Harris managed to be a worse candidate than Donald Fucking Trump. No amount of excuses or appeals to how bad Trump is can change the fact that she was a worse candidate than Donald Trump.

America chose a charismatic bullshitter who told them what they wanted to hear over an uncharismatic empty cipher who had absolutely no idea what they wanted or needed at all. No amount of "Trump bad though!" changes that.

Democrats don't know how to win elections because they don't listen to anybody. This is not a matter of "oh they have all the right policies they just can't beat that dastardly liar because they're too honest," they don't know what people want because they don't fucking listen. They make excuses for why people's opinions don't count and don't realize that doesn't change their opinions because it convinces nobody but themselves. They've spent a decade and a half supporting and covering for the absolutely malevolent and deranged social justice movement, the whole time spewing excuses for how it doesn't count and wasn't really them and nobody really cares about it and it doesn't really exist and actually it's a good thing. Because they don't fucking listen to the people who hate it and won't do the slightest thing to distance themselves from it. They don't tell the voters what they want to hear, not because they're too honest, but because they just keep telling the voters "No, you're wrong about what you want and wrong about what your concerns are."

And then they lose, and they blame the voters. They blame the points for not being on their side. They say "Oh, the American electorate is so insane and stupid and evil and racist, we never could have won since we're so good and morally righteous, the voters let us down again!" You fucking let down the voters. As bad as Trump is, you completely failed to convince a majority of voters you'd do any better. You can say all you want that you would have done a better job and done all the good things and none of the bad things, but people didn't believe you, and that's a problem that you can't solve by blaming them.

Like, the present moment makes me feel insane, because truly the most radical man to hold the office of President in what, arguably the last century at least, is supposed to have won because of his focus on broadly popular nuts and bolts governance while the Democrats were simply too in thrall to fringe ideology and lost because they just kept saying crazy shit.

The president named the most powerful office in the government, an office empowered to unilaterally overrule congressional budgets, after mother fucking Dogecoin!

I find this irritating in general, but I also find the constant think pieces arguing that the Dems could have moderated more. They were already far more moderate and less in thrall to the fringes of their base than their opponent was.

"Look, your vigorously sourced paper did not convince this unmedicated Schizophrenic that the CIA wasn't actually beaming orders into his teeth from their spy satellites.

"I think the conclusion here is obvious: Next time cite more sources."