#not to mention we have no idea if this is a permanent or temporary solution

[itzrafee]

SPOILERS for The Sandman comic book series. All of it. Especially the ending. Okay spoiler alert over.

And a content warning about suicide.

I'm not into the fandom of Sandman so I don't know if Gaiman addressed this or if this is a widely held thought but from the incredibly affecting day I finished it so long ago, I've always held the belief that the series is essentially Morpheus's suicide note. Essentially, it being a series of him wrapping up his affairs as he orchestrated his death. I remember reading the quote from Gaiman, "“The Lord of Dreams learns that one must change or die, and makes his decision." and then realizing his actions in a purposeful way, lead to his death. He set it all up. I know he says he didn't but how else can you see his actions? He even finds his own successor. He comes back out into a dreamless world that could use him more than ever and he's tired. He's playing catch-up and barely keeping up. And his devotion to his duty doesn't let him rest. He sees the need and knows he can't fill it. He can't meet the change. He tells his sister as much. And his constant orbit around his sister shows him everything he can't be. And the opportunity that lies there.

But that's not what The Sandman is about, it's just what it is. What I find the most interesting is when the Dreams of Morpheus come together with Stories that are a result of those Dreams. And how Death wraps those two up in her arms. They're all intrinsically tied to each other. The Inn at the end of the world serving as both the prologue and epilogue to Morpheus's death really shows that they are. We are a lot of things, people I mean. Or maybe just even living things. But in one way we are the same. We are stories. We have a beginning. We have a middle. And unfortunately we have an end.

I don't know if it was just me but I remember feeling a profound emptiness and hollowness at the end of The Sandman. A grief at the story ending. And I feel as if that is what Gaiman intended. Through the inn we learn of the ways Morpheus had affected people. When we leave this world we leave a lot of grief behind. Grief in the form of stories and dreams. I remember once seeing an ask of Gaiman where it was mentioned he was the one who said "Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem". And I think The Sandman reinforces that philosophy through the grief it shows. In a way, the tales those at the World's End Inn share are a form of grief but we also see the way dreams, death, stories and grief intersect in many of the important side characters. Hod Gadling, an incarnation of dreams as much as death, an outlier and an immortal. Someone who more than almost anyone would mourn Morpheus. We see it in the Dead Boy Detectives, a ghoulish emptiness where a story should end. And in Orpheus, forced to live on in grief. They are all twisted apparitions of dreams, of death, of stories, and of grief.

We are stories. And when we end, people grieve. They grieve through retelling and remembering. One of my favourite iterations of this idea is the story of Shakespeare and Hamlet. Shakespeare pays for the price of his dreams through his son and as we in the real world know, he grieves through telling a story of Hamnet. Hamnet gets turned into a tale that lives on long after he passes. These are all imperfect forms of life and death but they're all stories that do end. They have to. Maybe through telling and dreaming up these stories we keep them alive just a bit longer. Maybe until the heat death of it all, Hob Gadling will live on, being the last person Death take in, but she will take him. Death may be a mug's game but it's a game we all have to play. And grief is the price those that love us pay for it. It's the high cost of living.

[flock-talk]

Sorry if this has been answered, tumblr search is being tumblr search, but what’s been going on with Mia? I see mentions of mobility issues, is this a temporary injury or a chronic thing? So glad she has such an attentive caretaker to help her with her difficulties!

It’s a combo of age and old injury. From the get-go Mia has had problems, she has birth defects in her legs and beak and she had liver disease when I first got her, sometime down the road she injured her wing (still have no idea how that happened, vet thinking a tendon was harmed which there isn’t a solution for) which didn’t change much for her for a long time but now she’s almost 10 years old so it’s starting to impact her more.

So it’s just a matter of her getting old and her body not being able to function as well with her limitations anymore. We were forewarned that she’d likely end up developing arthritis due to her legs - at the moment her climbing is largely normal she just tires more quickly. Her wing injury would start to impact flight more as she ages - which it now is, she largely just glides or does really short upward flights now. And from there just about anything else could start up since she already has visible external birth defects it’s very possible that there could be internal defects that we just aren’t aware of. And since she had her fight with liver disease there will be some permanent damage that will make things hard for her as she gets older.

She’s otherwise a very happy and active bean, just having the years catch up to her now. Spending a bit more time cuddling and sunbathing than she does committing crimes

[bluetyres661]

Punctures and Blowouts: Reasons and Precautions

Tyres are made up of rubber and other ingredients like fabric, metal, carbon black and anti-ageing ingredients. If we consider the sidewall and tread of car tyres, rubber material is the main material for the construction of these areas.

Tread pattern and sidewall are strong areas to endure unfavourable driving conditions but sharp objects like iron nails, pieces of glass and sharp blades may damage these areas easily. Sometimes, Car Tyres Reading explode due to several reasons. This issue takes place because of a weak and worn area in the sidewall or tread. Weak areas of car tyres are unable to bear the air pressure. Therefore, air pressure tears these areas to cause serious damage.

In technical terms, we call these issues punctures and blowouts. Punctures and blowouts can be extremely problematic if you are not ready to face these issues. In other words, you must be ready for these issues when you drive your car to reach your office or home.

Read this blog if you want to learn about punctures and blowouts for better preparation.

What is a tyre puncture?

As mentioned above, sharp and pointed objects like blades and nails can easily penetrate into the tread part of car tyres. These objects cause a small hole in the affected area. The size of the hole depends on the size of the object’s edge or point. Even a small hole is enough to cause low air pressure in the faulty tyre. Therefore, you have to repair your tyre to fill it with air again.

Common ideas to deal with a tyre puncture

Drivers do not deal with a puncture but they have to find a solution of low air pressure. According to tyre experts, you cannot drive your car on a flat tyre due to the risk of damage. Therefore, you cannot resume your journey without getting an appropriate solution for the problem.

You can easily replace the flat tyre with a spare if you have one. Moreover, repairing the faulty tyre is possible with the help of a tyre puncture repair kit. Using a puncture repair kit is a temporary solution. You must repair your tyre permanently according to your comfort and preferences. Calling a mobile tyre fitting service is also a common solution because a lot of garages offer this special service to car owners.

Other reasons for the leakage of air

Puncture is not the only reason for low air pressure. Air may leave your tyre because of other reasons as well.

If you detect low air pressure in car tyres, it is possible slow puncture is present somewhere on the body of your tyre. Moreover, damage in tyre components like beads, and tyre valves can cause leakage of air as well.

Remove these reasons to maintain the level of air pressure in your car tyres.

What is a tyre blowout?

A car tyre may explode at any moment to cause a tyre blowout. This issue is fiercer than the problem of tyre puncture. A tyre explodes due to several reasons. Some of these reasons take place in car tyres as a warning sign. So, you will save your tyres from blowouts if you do not ignore these warning signals.

Common reasons for a tyre blowout

Tyre blowouts take place in car tyres due to the following reasons:

Speed, friction and heat:

Tread rubber makes direct contact with the road surface when you drive your car at high speeds. The speed of car tyres generates heat and friction. These two factors usually cause tyre blowouts. The tyre is more likely to burst when it already has some weak areas in its tread.

Road surface:

Road surface also plays a role in tyre blowouts. Chances of a blowout are higher if you drive your car on a bumpy, uneven and rough road surface.

Incorrect air pressure:

Low air pressure is responsible for a larger contact patch. This large contact area will generate more heat and friction to cause a serious blowout.

Bulges and cracks:

The presence of bulges and cracks is a clear indication for tyre blowouts. Bugles take place due to impact and show internal injury. Cracks occur on the tyre sidewall because of the ageing and changing behaviour of tyre rubber. You must not ignore these issues because of the risk of tyre blowouts.

Overloading:

Tyres come with a loading capacity. It means they can carry the load of your vehicle without serious damage if you respect the loading limit. Overloading increases the level of pressure on car tyres. As a result, factors like heat, and friction may cause a serious blowout at any time.

Blowout due to overloading can be extremely dangerous because a vehicle with overloading already faces handling problems. So, controlling an overloaded vehicle will be extremely difficult for a car driver after the event of a blowout.

Common steps to deal with a tyre blowout

You must park your car in a safe place because driving on a blown-out tyre is extremely risky. After parking your car, you have to replace your faulty tyre with the spare. Using a puncture repair kit is not suitable in the case of a tyre blowout. The pressure of air tears a large part of the tyre tread. Therefore, repair work for the damaged area is not possible.

You can surely call a Mobile Tyre Fitting Reading service if you want an instant solution. After your call, a mobile tyre fitter will arrive at your place soon to replace your tyre.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 262

Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox

Another day, another night I fucked around to much to watch more than one show before going to bed

“Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox”

Plot Description: an assortment of hunters gather to commemorate a fallen brother, but Sam and Dean soon realize that a demon has come to kill them all

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I don’t know. I don’t even understand when this is supposed to take place. I’m piecing together that it’s before Dean was born but the only thing they did to make Mary look younger is put her hair in braids. I swear there’s a whole other actress who plays young Mary, but….k, so it was about how Mary influenced this kid and he grew up to be a hunter and then died. Yeah. I wouldn’t become a hunter. That is not the life for me

Please let this be a running joke this season. PLEASE let Dean tell EVERYONE “oh, yeah. Just to catch up since the last time we saw each other? I killed Hitler” it WILL hit every time. Omg he’s so proud

(Ok I had to go back a few seconds because I couldn’t believe Sam said what he said to Jody. I’m now gathering that Dean HAS been telling everyone who knows them this so I’m not surprised when) Sam really just aired out his brother’s hentai habits to Jody. Dean’s very grateful that phone rang omg

Ohhhhh, Jody, you LIKED him. You liked Asa

(Weird question, are Cas and Crowley just…hanging around Cleveland still?? Are we gonna hear from them again??)

Here’s the thing. Here’s the thing. Here’s the thing. This guy who’s asking Sam about having been possessed by Lucifer is such obvious “this is the demon who’s here to kill everyone” bait, like it’s TOO obvious. But because this IS supernatural, it actually could be him

And then sometimes…you know, you could be wrong because a hunter just died and that guy was still in the room with everyone else. I did say he was TOO obvious

Oh, Mary’s here now!

Oh…the amount of parental troubles in this house has shot through the roof. Like, on so many fronts. Jody, who’s a bit of a surrogate mom to the boys (even though she’s not that much older than them. Yeah, the actress who plays her is only 9 years older than Jensen) has chastised Dean for not telling her Mary’s back but also is now thinking about if she had the chance to have her husband and son back…at her kind of boyfriend’s wake. Then there’s just the awkwardness between Mary and Dean. Not to mention Mary and Asa’s mom, who’s mad at Mary because she’s the reason Asa didn’t grow up to be an astronaut…but if Mary hadn’t saved him from that werewolf all those years ago, he wouldn’t have grown up at all. It’s not Mary’s fault she left an impression on this kid she saved. She had no idea

Fascinating that they’ll still say w****go but will refer to a First Nations girl as that (this episode takes place in Canada)

Oh, so EVERYBODY’s getting possessed tonight. This demon’s body hopping like there’s no tomorrow. Ah shit, they just killed off the obvious bait guy

Mmmmmmm, not trusting whoever got a hold of the angel blade…this is like watching Clue (1985) but way less funny

The thought to make a large devil’s trap for everyone to stand in is a good TEMPORARY idea, but it’s not a permanent solution unless you all plan to die there

THIS must have been a fun scene for Kim Rhodes. Any time someone gets to play a fun chaotic demon after being a no nonsense character….ooo, I just love that for them. She is just airing EVERYONE’S laundry here.

Wait…Asa’s friend killed him????? (It was an accident, but it’s the coverup that reallyyyyyy sucks about it)

Ohhhhhh nooooooooo, when Billie got Dean back in the house she said he’d owe her one………she meant Maryyyyyyy because Mary’s not supposed to be heeeeeere

Ok, she’s not going yet…but also…she’s not going with Sam and Dean yet either

[rainbowloliofjustice]

I wish people would make up their damn minds in this community. 

People complained for years and years that the models were shit and needed to be changed and/or updated.

and now that they are getting that, they’re “threatening” to boycott because not every pokemon is gunna be in the game on release. 

“Future proof” means that the models will be useable in further games. However, that doesn’t exactly mean shit if you are changing the models to update or make them better. 

Either you want them to make new models and update the pokemons and shit (which would mean not everything is available on release) or you want them to use the same models (that y’all have been complaining about) and everything is available on release. 

Pick one cause ya can’t fucking have both

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 13: Insecurity

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

Liu Kang chapter!! Fluff <3

A/N: I'm running late today, what day is it anymore even??

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

By the time that Liu Kang was free it was the middle of the night. It had been a busy day. He longed for the day before when he’d done little more than rest with you. Instead, there had been mountains to catch up on. He would have given anything to be with you and Kung Lao in the city instead of being buried in books, archives, and unpleasant conversation. Sometimes he was tired of being responsible Liu Kang.

And the subject he’d been immersed in was too close to home especially after the last week. Somehow, he had managed to remain professional and objective. He’d even gotten a chance to sneak away so he could buy condoms which was not something he was particularly practiced in. It had wound up being the highlight of his day which spoke more to the quality of the rest of his day than anything else.

The halls of the temple were mostly abandoned. He considered going to see you so he could see how your day had gone. You’d been afraid to go into the city with Kung Lao but he was glad that you’d done it. He’d spoken with Kung Lao that morning about your hesitation and asked him to keep an eye on it.

Then reality had crashed on him after getting back to work.

If they didn’t find a solution soon then things would take a dark turn. It wouldn’t be a slow burn but a sudden crash. They’d spoken about you in a clinical sort of way. Would Y/N succumb to whoever was controlling your curse and become their puppet? Or would you simply… die? Either end was unacceptable. He shut out those conversations.

Raiden had suggested trying to buy time by suppressing your gift.

You’d suppressed it as a child and maybe with his magic you could do so again. But even those ideas had involved leaving you unconscious or frozen in time. Liu had spent hours upon hours researching and making lists of ways they could suppress your visions only to be told Raiden had gone to consult with elder gods. Liu Kang had little faith it would work. Even if it did, it was a temporary solution to a permanent problem. You had to get rid of the curse. It was the only thing that made sense.

Just around the corner Liu Kang found Kung Lao seated on a windowsill with a jug of wine next to him, staring into the starry night sky. That was more Liu Kang’s go to thing but Kung Lao had been known to do so on rare contemplative nights.

Liu couldn’t think about the starry night sky without thinking about that night he’d stolen his first kiss from you. You had shared in the comfort of the night sky. Liu leaned against the wall by the window, arms folded over his chest while he waited for Kung Lao to acknowledge him. Lao was quiet. A rare thing. Then he tapped the jug.

“Want a drink?” He didn’t sound like he’d been drinking for long.

“No thanks. It’s late.” Liu Kang would likely pass out from exhaustion if he had a drink and he wasn’t ready to do that yet even if he was sure to have another long day tomorrow.

“I know. That’s why I’m drinking.”

“Instead of sleeping?” Liu Kang watched as Kung Lao took a long drink from the jug in response. “Something on your mind?”

“Nope.”

That was a lie but a harmless one. If Kung Lao wanted to talk then he’d talk. Liu had known him long enough to know better. Pushing was a waste of breath. Liu wondered if maybe you had told Lao something about what had happened between you. He felt his stomach take a sudden dive- not at the idea of Lao finding out but because he hadn’t really had the guts to tell you how he felt. He’d spoken in vague niceties and had kicked himself while doing it. He wanted to drop to his knees and confess that you were the most important woman in his life but he’d stopped himself.

It was selfish.

Kung Lao deserved you.

Lao had spoken of the girl from his childhood for years on and off. When he had a bad day or felt sick, he brought you up and it made him smile. Liu Kang hadn’t realized it back then but Kung Lao had a special place in his heart for you. It was unfair of Liu to have fallen for you. But he’d also never meant to. He’d never felt that way about anyone before.

What was he supposed to do?

If it were up to him then he wasn’t sure what would happen.

Kung Lao was chosen by fate and given the name of Earth’s greatest champion. He was there to save them from Outworld. Kung Lao was a hero. What was Liu Kang? An orphan.

Kung Lao had been your best friend. You had a connection that he could never match.

Liu was just the monk who had taken care of you and showed you kindness.

He was undeserving of your affection.

But at the same time he wanted it. He craved it. Sharing the same air as you was the purest and most tantalizing form of torture he’d ever experienced and he was addicted to it. And he’d grown to care for you deeply. You had become a part of him. Losing you would be like losing a limb. He wasn’t sure if this was what love felt like but he didn’t shy away from the word either. It felt right.

Ultimately, he was glad the choice was yours to make. Not his. Not Kung Lao’s. It would be unfair of him to push you one way or the other. He trusted that you would follow your heart. Liu Kang only wanted you to be happy. He considered again that he was in love. He would have broken his own heart a thousand times to make you happy.

“How’s research?” Kung Lao interrupted his thoughts.

Thank the stars. He was tired and his brain was noisy.

“Stressful.” Liu Kang was looking forward to a change of pace. Even if it was more research in Korea it would at least be a different kind of research and it would at least be with his two favorite people. “The sooner we find out about her heritage the better. Hopefully it gives us some answers.”

“Raiden thinks we’re cutting it close?”

“He does.” Liu averted his eyes. He’d talked about the inevitability long enough that day.

“She knows, by the way.” Kung Lao shrugged and then swung his legs back into the hallway, jug in his lap. “Better than any of us do.” Liu turned to lean on his side. “I think she’s ready to go behind our backs and have Raiden lock her away until it’s over. I don’t know how to bring it up. Being encouraging is all I can think to do. She was… off today. Scared. You were right to be worried. I had to drag her the whole way.” Ah. That explained the liquor. Liu wasn’t sure what to say. “Sure you don’t want a drink?” Lao offered him the jug.

“No. I’m too stressed and tired. It’s a slippery slope. I don’t… want to think about it anymore. All I do all day long is think about it.” Liu Kang rubbed his temples, feeling a headache settling in.

“What, and I want to think about it?” Lao set the jug down next to him and rested his elbows on his knees. “This is killing me. It’s too serious.”

“Sometimes things have to be taken seriously, Kung Lao.”

“I know.” Kung Lao couldn’t seem to sit still. He tapped his fingers against the stone. “Here we were making bets over who she’d date and she’s worrying about whether or not she’s going to accidentally kill one of us.”

“We were selfish.” Liu sighed heavily. “Where is she?”

“Sleeping. It’s late.”

“Good. How was the trip?”

“It was fine. Chen’s a big cock block of a human being though.” Kung Lao rolled his eyes. Liu laughed. That answered whether or not you had mentioned anything. What was holding you back? It was unfair of him to speculate. They’d put you in a tough position. Your childhood love or him. And he couldn’t seem to keep himself together around you anymore without thinking with his dick so it wasn’t like you’d had a proper discussion about it. He laughed at himself and rubbed his temples again before loosening his jaw. He was clenching. “When are we going to Korea?”

“Not tomorrow but the day after. Maybe you could help her pack.”

“But I haven’t packed. And how long am I packing for?”

“Since when have you cared how long? Just pack what you usually pack.”

“But…”

“You should stop drinking and get some sleep. You’re exceptionally stupid when you drink.”

Kung Lao didn’t even laugh. He picked up the jug and jumped into the hall. “It wasn’t helping me feel better anyway. And being hungover sucks when I have work to do.” Kung Lao nodded down the hall. “I’m hungry. Food?”

“I’m exhausted, Lao.”

“Fine. I can’t sleep so… food.”

“Go.” Liu patted his brother on the arm and then walked down the hall toward his room without another word. He stopped at the end of the hall and considered going to see you instead. He would just check on you. Make sure that you were resting. Then he could rest in peace. He knew if he went there, he’d be unable to control himself and would likely end up crawling into your bed. He wanted to hold you. They were all trying to stay optimistic and avoid discussing the truth but Kung Lao was right.

You would rather lock yourself away and rot before you hurt anyone. You’d proven that by asking to be in isolation.

That had been enough to convince him.

He walked to your room and knocked lightly on the door. There was no answer so he let himself in. The lantern on your desk was burning dimly in the corner providing just enough light so he could see the shadows of the furniture. You were curled up in bed and looked exhausted and pale. He couldn’t remember if you had always been that pale but he also couldn’t help but think that you were beautiful.

Even looking as troubled as you did. Why would you look troubled in your sleep?

You deserved peace and rest.

He should leave.

Selfishly, he wanted to hold you.

Even more so after talking to Kung Lao. This day had been hell on his nerves. All he wanted was to make sure you were okay. To take care of you the way that he used to. Maybe he would be able to slip into your bed without waking you.

Screw it.

This was where he wanted to be so it was where he would stay. Slipping off his shoes, he tucked them neatly beneath the bed. Then he slipped off his shirt and draped it over the back of your desk chair. Trying not to disturb you, he lifted the blankets and climbed beneath them. Each movement felt like the loudest thing he had ever done in his life. But he managed to make it into bed and you remained asleep next to him. For a few minutes he watched you but the moment he’d laid down he knew it wasn’t enough.

He should have known better.

His usual control was out of his hands when he was near you. Pulling you into his arms would definitelywake you up. You weren’t a heavy sleeper and he knew that but also damnit, he wanted to hold you.

He had to hold you.

He slipped his arm around you and urged you closer to him and you leaned unconsciously into his touch but didn’t wake up. Then he adjusted himself onto his back and suddenly you stirred awake, stiffened up and recoiled as if frightened. Your breath was suddenly sharp and you stared at him with wide eyes. He leaned up on his elbows.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me, Y/N.” He soothed you, drenched in guilt that he’d woken you. “I didn’t mean to wake you… I…”

“Liu…?” You exclaimed in relief and then much to his surprise you buried yourself against his shoulder. You were trembling so he held you closer.

“Are you okay?” He tilted your chin up with his forefinger. You nodded but he could see behind your dark eyes that you were still frightened. He was sure his worry was written on his face. He’d been terrible at hiding it. You looked guilty, as if you realized he knew. “Well?”

“Nothing it’s… just…” You deflated and then pouted your lower lip. He couldn’t help but smile. You were so damn cute.

“Bad dream?” He guessed. “You looked pretty peaceful.”

“Yeah. They’re not rare these days. Fades pretty quickly after I wake up but… was scared, that’s all. I’m okay. Happy to see you.” You rubbed your tired eyes.

“Need to talk about it?”

“No. No, I’m fine. Is everything okay?” You leaned suddenly on your elbow and looked him over then back at the door. “Wait, hold on. When did you… when did you end up shirtless in my bed? Am I…? Having a different kind of dream now?” You pinched the bridge of your nose. He laughed and pulled you into his arms. You melted against him, like his arms were all you needed to be okay. You might have been the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. He ran his fingers through your hair and swore that you were bewitched by his touch. Without having considered doing it, his lips brushed down the bridge of your nose, over your cheek and then to your lips.

They were tender, ever-so-slightly swollen from all the kissing you’d done in days past.

You were powerless to him and not in a way where he had stripped you of that power but as if you couldn’t help but kiss him back. Being with you made his doubts and fears fade away. The guilt he’d earlier felt was the furthest thing from his mind. He was confident when he was with you. This was where he was meant to be. And he had almost no control over his hands. He’d wrapped his arms around you and leaned you back, resting almost on top of you. The warmth of your body was familiar but also foreign, your womanly curves pressed against him in the best way. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it and that was a wonderful feeling. No matter how many times he held you it felt special.

You laid there kissing, tangled in each other. His lips trailed over your jaw and down your neck but he stopped himself. He had to find a little self-control. You’d been dead asleep and there he was waking you up, holding you, wanting you and you were looking to him like he was a drug you were addicted to. But you were smiling too.

“What was that for?” You sounded as dazed as you looked.

“Uh…” He laughed nervously and then buried his face against your shoulder. His lips barely brushed against the skin there and he could feel your skin warm beneath his touch. It made him quiver. Your fingers reached to tangle into his hair almost on instinct. Another thing he’d become addicted to. If your fingers were tangled in his hair for the rest of his days, he could die a happy man.

“What? What is it, Liu?” There was the slightest tug on his hair and he had to focus solely on his breathing.

“…I have a difficult time being this close to you and not kissing you or holding you or…” He lifted his head from your shoulder and looked at the little space between you and then back to your dark eyes. “I don’t think you’ve noticed that yet.”

“What?” You couldn’t have sounded more skeptical which surprised him. He thought it was obvious. Every single time you’d been close even since that first day it had taken all of his effort not to pull you even closer. Each time he tucked your hair behind your ear he’d wanted to kiss you. He’d fought it because of Kung Lao but in the end, he’d been unable to control himself. Your connection was beyond fighting. “Me? Seriously?”

“Yes, you.”

Your dainty fingers rested on his cheek. He closed his eyes and sunk into your touch. It sent shivers down his spine and he rested his fingers over yours, dwarfing your tiny hand in comparison. Then instead of speaking the way he expected you to, you kissed him. He wouldn’t deny you that kiss but he laughed against your lips when you made a sound of surprise as if you hadn’t realized that you’d done it. Maybe you were in the same boat with this attraction. That was a wonderful thought.

“Oh no… this is dangerous.” You muttered against his lips and each word that left your lips made his curl into a smile.

“Extremely dangerous.” It was only then that he’d realized how much better he felt. You had a way of lifting the weight from his shoulders. All other worry that had plagued him, even regarding you, were replaced with hope and light. He was unsure what this thing was between you, this draw, this romance, but he was addicted to it. He wasn’t sure he could go back to being without it. “…but I’ve never been the type to back away from danger.”

You giggled and leaned your head back, pushing your hair away from your face. No matter what happened he would find a way to save you. You hadn’t asked him to save you and he knew what you would say if he said it out loud. But he cared about you too much to watch you waste away. Even if you did as Kung Lao worried you would, he would chase you to the ends of the earth and find a way to bring you back.

“Is it okay for me to stay?”

You cleared your throat.

“Are you asking me if it’s okay if you keep these ridiculously strong arms around me all night long? Seriously, your biceps are bigger than my head.” You tapped his arm and he laughed then nodded to confirm that this was exactly what he was asking. “I wanted to make a joke and saw ‘ew, no, gross’ and then roll away before rolling back to you and saying of course but… I can’t even pretend that it’s not what I want.” He chuckled again and all the laughter made his stomach hurt. It felt good to laugh. “Laying on top of me to sleep is a little much though. Can we readjust?”

“Sure.” He hadn’t even realized just how on top of you he’d been until you’d pointed it out. This really was dangerous but like he said, he had never shied away from danger before. It was kind of nice to feel out of control of something and it was such a good and sexy thing to not have control over. He laid on his back and you curled up against him. Then he adjusted the pillows and urged his arm beneath you and pulled you to rest against his shoulder.

“Oh, me on top of you? That’s fine.” You laughed. He bit his lip as you hooked your leg right over his. That was very dangerous. Thank god that you’d chosen to be responsible today and get the things you needed to keep you from getting knocked-up because this was an inevitability. It wasn’t a question of if you would end up together again but when.

“…so uh… did you get what you needed today?”

“…did I rub against you the wrong way, Liu?” You teased and his face burned. He leaned his head back with a laugh. “Wow, you’re on fire. I’m never going to get to sleep with you making me this hot.”

“You’re definitely not getting to sleep anytime soon if you keep teasing me like that.”

“Wow.”

Your hot breath of laughter on his shoulder and neck forced him to try and focus again. A few deep breaths and he thought he was okay. “Really though, how was your trip? Lao said it was okay.”

“I was a nervous wreck through most of it. I’ve never been this nervous around people before. I’m scared I’m going to hurt someone.”

“That’s a real fear, Y/N.”

“Thank you for understanding that. I don’t think Lao quite gets it.”

“Oh, he gets it he’s just… Kung Lao.” Liu smiled down at you, brushing his thumb against your lower back. You were exhausted. He could feel the weight of you sinking against him which was great because he was exhausted and if you kept it up then you were going to exhaust each other and be sorry for it later. Closing his eyes, he felt you growing heavier with sleepiness. “Y/N?”

“Mmhmm?” You adjusted yourself against him as if trying to find the right spot to drift off.

“Thank you.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder. Your hair was wild and you were half-asleep. “For what?”

“I had a hard day and being with you has made it better.”

“I didn’t do anything, Liu.” You tried to fix your hair but it was impossible. It was mostly white now. The black was only at your ends. He loved it. “Do you need to talk about today?”

“No, no… I’ve gotten exactly what I needed.” He picked up your hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it. “This isn’t working for me though. I’m a side sleeper.”

“You’re the one who pulled me on top of you.”

“I know. Everyone makes mistakes.” He readjusted onto his side and then pulled you so your back was resting against his chest. He slipped both of his arms around you, hands flat on your stomach. You laughed and buried your face against the pillow.

“That’s actually fine. Your arm was too big to lay on that way. I was uncomfortable.”

“Is it okay like this?” He adjusted it beneath you. You nodded.

“Perfect, big spoon.” You snuggled further back into him and he stiffened up and readjusted.

“Dangerous way to sleep though. You’re all… pressed against me…” He placed a lazy kiss on the back of your shoulder.

“I think we established that everything we do is a little dangerous so… is this par for the course or do I need to be less of a nesting spoon?”

“No, no… you’re perfect.” He closed his eyes and had every intention of saying more but exhaustion finally won. He fell asleep holding you.

[ralfmaximus]

My Dentist is Jeff Goldblum

Well, not really. But he looks and talks exactly like Ian Malcolm from the first Jurassic Park, if Ian Malcolm were obsessed with dentistry instead of chaos theory.

I’m not kidding. I have witnesses.

His hair, his build, speech and mannerisms... the way he holds his hands when he talks, the way he gazes off into space and smiles when a particularly cool idea strikes him. It’s all Ian Malcolm.

He’s also got strong ideas about dentistry. 

And he will tell you about them. Forcefully.

He will tell you that dentistry is holistic; that by fixing (say) an overbite you can also correct spinal issues, cure migraines, and improve your vision. Ask a simple question (not even about teeth) and he is off on a 15-minute digression about HOW THERE ARE. DISCIPLINES. OF BELIEF! IN DENTISTRY and some of them are not his (which is okay) but really... dentistry is holistic and you are a fool if you don’t recognize that.

And you know, he’s probably right? I’ve seen him work miracles.

Which leads me to tonight, during which I had a dental emergency.

Yeah. Earlier tonight I broke a front crown -- shattered it into pieces, really -- and called his emergency number. He called me back, and Ian Malcomed his way through a quick video exam of my mouth via cell phone camera, then proclaimed he would be in his office awaiting my arrival between 8:00 and 8:15 pm. 

At 7pm on a Friday night.

When we got there, we met his wife who’d invited herself along because she TOO is a dentist (of course she is) and brutally intelligent & witty as well.

“This is our date niiiiight!” she sing-songed when she met me. 

They both took me into the back and did a quick exam, fabricated some emergency goo, jacked the broken shards of 40-year-old porcelain crown out of my head, and proceeded to reproduce the color, shape, weight, and feel of my original crown. All painlessly, all reassuringly. 

In about 20 minutes.

And they had never seen the inside of my mouth before. 

Because did I mention? This is my kid’s dentist. I’d never seen him professionally before tonight.

It’s a temporary job (”avoid corn on the cob ha ha!”) and I’ll be in to see him this coming week for a more permanent solution, but my god I have never experienced such professionalism AND Jeff Goldblum levels of care in my life.

I have no idea what this visit cost me. I’m a little frightened.

I’ll check with the office on Monday and find out, because Ian Malcolm does not do invoicing (”I don’t even know where the computer is ha ha!”) but I’m certain it will be expensive as hell and I’ll be paying it off over time but I DO NOT CARE.

Tonight went from abject body horror to professional care to things being back to mostly normal and really? 

There’s no price for that.

[nev3rfound]

i’ll be waiting : b.b

brief summary: you are suffering after a traumatic mission and are moved away from the compound to recover but remain in touch with your closest friend sam whilst someone else longs for your company

word count: 1.7k requested: yes - by the sweetest gal @saturngirlz thank you for the support behind the scenes and patience for me to write this warnings: mention of ptsd, some violence described but nothing much 

* masterlistin’ 

* commissions 

(if anyone has a good idea on how I can set up a permanent taglist so people can easily add themselves do let me know! i’m v close to 2.5k and i want to do this to celebrate)

Two years ago your life fell apart in more ways than you could ever have anticipated. Five years ago you were discovered, captured and kept hostage in a base where no one spoke the same language as you. Four years ago, you were saved and found a new home, with a family who finally accepted you for who you were. The same year you were declared an Avenger, part of the family officially.

You were finally being put back together, the sense of security you had longed for was resonating for the first time in your life. Everything was going too well, part of you anticipated something could happen to ruin it, something always happened whether you wanted it or not. Nothing could stop what happened, not even your family.

There were seven of you on this mission. All split up to cover different sectors of the forest. You knew the risks, you took responsibility for your actions and reasoning for going off course. Your eyes followed a strange man, his armband glowed and you couldn’t stop your legs from moving in his direction.

Bucky was the first to find you. He could barely see you at first beneath the rubble. All he heard was the explosion, the sound of your scream as someone screamed to you. Sam screamed for you to get out of the way, to run. But you were solid, stuck in the spot as three men held guns to your face. 

That was when the explosion occurred. 

You were thrown off of your feet, your body slammed into a series of trees as you fell into the shrubbery. Slowly you were surrounded by dismembered limbs, burning pieces of clothing and the smell of death. When Bucky found you, your smile was vacant, you were lost inside of your thoughts.

He tried to help you to your feet, but you were covered in blood. You had a large gash across the right side of your scalp as it oozed down your face, dripping down your eyelashes as you blinked up at him. Silently you pleaded for him to reverse it all, stop it from happening. But there wasn’t anyone who could take back the past, what was done was done. 

Bucky didn’t let go of your hand as you were carried back to the Quinjet. He sat by your side in the long hours of silence that droned through the hospital ward in the compound. You weren’t responsive, despite his best efforts of making you laugh, you weren’t in there. 

All you could hear was the sound of your name being screamed by Sam, the fear of death hanging heavy as the heat hit your body. You still felt weightless, the moment where you felt like flying before you were harshly reminded of gravity as your body weakened on impact. 

You were told Sam kept coming by, talking to you about old memories from when you first joined to help snap you from the painful state you were encased in. Bucky would tell you he sat and laughed to you, wiping his eyes when you weren’t looking. For once he wanted to be the strong one in your friendship, not let you see him weaken. 

After you were recovering, you moved back to your bedroom. A place you could feel secure as you were surrounded by familiarity. You could curl up into your own bed, wear your own pyjamas that felt comfortable and didn’t itch against the scratches that lined your skin. But that didn’t happen, you weren’t comfortable, no matter how much you tried to hide it.

You felt suffocated beneath your bedding. The pyjamas you once sought out felt alien on your skin as you wished to tear them off. Every time you closed your eyes, you could picture it all happening. You woke up screaming, hearing the sound of your name being softly whispered as strong arms were holding you close.

He was the first to you when it happened, always was. Your screams echoed through the corridors, even in the dead of night. Bucky rushed to your room, not caring who he woke up as long as he knew you were safe. He held you close to his chest, whispering soft reminders to you as you screamed, you sobbed loudly and soaked his shirt once again. But Bucky didn’t care, he just wanted you to know you were safe.

Sam would walk in next, rubbing his eyes as he found his two friends tangled together beneath the sheets. He would let out a silent sigh of relief to see you calm in Bucky’s strong arms and to see Bucky smiling in his sleep as he kept you close to his chest. Bucky quickly learnt you needed to hear soothing sounds. His heart beating, a steady repetitive beat to remind you someone is still here, even if she falls asleep the sound won’t stop. 

Despite this being a temporary fix, everyone knew it couldn’t be a permanent solution. 

Tony sat with Sam, Steve and Bucky to discuss the matter. They witnessed the mission, saw the aftermath first hand. All of them had dealt with PTSD and suggested methods to help. Despite the long hours of discussions, debates and arguments they settled on a single option. They had your best interests at heart and knew this would help you in the long run; they’d send you away. 

That was two years ago. Two years ago you were helped by your friends as you packed your bags with tears in your eyes. You felt numb about the entire thing and obliged. Deep down you knew it was a good choice to make, but it didn’t make it any easier. 

Your room was left empty, the door closed as the faint smell of lavender and vanilla remained etched into the walls enclosed. 

Bucky walked alongside you to the car, fighting back the urge to stop you from going. He wanted to be selfish, not let you leave before he could tell you how much you meant to him. But he couldn’t be selfish. He knew you needed this, something Sam continually reminded him in the weeks after you were driven out of sight. 

Out of everyone, you spoke to Sam every week. He was the first person who let you into his life. Sam wasn’t nervous or afraid of your outspoken attitude when you first joined. He understood your defensive mannerisms, and couldn’t help but see himself in you when you laughed at something stupid. 

Sitting down in the cabin, you curl up in front of the fire. You zone in on the flames, holding your hands out to them and feel the heat slowly starting to burn against your flesh. Staring straight at it, you breathe through the pain, forcing yourself to stop associating heat with that day. 

The sound of your phone ringing snaps you out of it. You quickly retract your hands, rubbing them against your thighs as you wince at the blisters that begin to form. Looking down at your phone, you smile as his goofy expression illuminates the screen, one you’ll never tire of seeing in lapses of doubt. 

“What’s up bird brain?” You answer the phone as you wander into the kitchen, switching the kettle on before you curl up on your sofa, staring into the fire.

Sam scoffs down the line, making you smile to yourself. “You ever going to pick a new nickname?” He questions and hears your light laughter, something he misses hearing. “I’ll take that as a no then.” He mutters under his breath, feigning annoyance with you.

“I’ll consider it, Sam. Just for you, that is.” You joke back with him, wishing he was sat opposite you rather than hundreds of miles away on a phone that lacks the best of signal. “Now why are you calling me when it is obviously your bedtime?”

Smiling to himself, Sam glances over seeing his fellow Avengers watching, listening closely to his phone call with you. His eyes watch Bucky, the cold blue melting at the faint sound of your voice, a sweet laugh he’s longed for. 

“I just, you know it’s been a long time and I know you’re getting better,” Sam starts, unsure where his words will lead him.

You rise from your curled state and sit upright, leaning on the edge of your small sofa. “Yeah, you know I am I mean, you’ve seen my therapists reports.” You remind him, having sent him daily updates after the first few months of you living here. Every day you were registered for an hour with a therapist to talk everything over. With each passing day, it got easier to talk and not cry throughout the whole thing or remain silent. 

Tony flicks through your medical reports, nodding to Sam. “Exactly, and I’ve never been happier for you, Y/N/N. I just, I think it might be time we come and see you?” His tone becomes questionable instead of making a clear statement. 

Sam’s eyes widen as Bucky clenches his jaw, shifting uncomfortably on the spot as Tony facepalms. Inside, Sam begins to breakdown, realising he might’ve just messed everything up, their chance of getting you back. 

Silence echoes through the phone line, and Sam pulls the phone away to ensure you’re still there. “I know it’s been two years, Y/n. But we really miss you.” He mutters softly as he shuts his eyes and leans against the table, turning his back on everyone else. “I miss you, and a certain soldier won’t stop staring me down when I get off the phone with you.” 

Your soft watery laugh sends a wave of relief through Sam as his shoulders slouch back down. “I, I’d really love that.” You whisper down the line as you clutch your phone close to your ear, tears filling your eyes as you smile like a Cheshire cat to yourself. “Thank you, Sam.” You mutter to him. “I, I’ve missed everyone too. And you of course,” You add for his sake, picturing him smile. “and, and I’ve missed him too.” 

Behind Sam, Bucky smiles to himself, hoping it goes unnoticed as his heart flutters in his chest realising he’ll finally see you once again. He might have a chance to hold you close and finally hear his heart beating only for you. 

[antillonbukhari90]

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[gatesofember]

Frailty and Fortune: Chapter 7

PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU Part 10

Rating: T | Pairing: Solangelo

Prev | Next | AU directory | Read it on AO3 (Recommended) | Arranged Marriage AU Masterpage

Summary: A few months have passed since Prince Nico’s wedding to William of Solace. Even with his husband at his side, Will sometimes feels lonely as he settles into his new life. He misses his home, his family, his friends, and his studies in Venadica. Meanwhile, Nico is uncertain how to help him, awkward about expressing himself, and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to truly make his husband happy. As time goes by and Will continues to feel lost in his new home, Will and Nico must both learn how to make their marriage work.

Will had intended to start working on city improvement plans as soon as possible, but Nico appeared to have other ideas.  After Will returned to the palace, Nico spent the rest of the day and most of the next doting on him.  While the gesture seemed sweet at first, by the afternoon Will found himself so distracted by Nico hovering over his shoulder that he could hardly think, let alone theorize ways to reconstruct the Plutonian economy, so he subtly suggested Nico ought to help Hazel brush up on her fencing.  Nico’s expression fell and Will felt immediately guilty, so when Nico asked if he was being bothersome, Will hurried to explain that he wanted to do some research and that Nico’s presence made it difficult to focus—“because I love you so much,” he said, which provoked a blush and a soft, sweet smile from his husband, and then Nico agreed to give Will some alone time.

Will found Reyna flipping through papers in her study.  He’d never visited her chambers before so he hovered outside the door awkwardly for a moment, holding a large scroll under his arm while he watched the top of Reyna’s head and tried to think of a way to politely announce himself.  Reyna made an excellent friend, but she was intimidating as a soror and advisor.  Will always felt small around her—unless, of course, she chose to dull the sharp, authoritative aura that she normally gave off, but she was selective about the circumstances under which she did so.

Finally, Reyna looked up.  “May I help you with something, Your Highness, or would you prefer to continue lurking in the doorway?”

“Oh,” Will said.  “Uh, yes.  I wondered if you had a moment to spare?  I’d like to talk to you about a few things I noticed in the city yesterday.”

“You mean when you decided to run off without telling anybody and set the whole palace in uproar?”

Will bit his lip.  “Um—” he started, but Reyna gave him a knowing, if exasperated, smile.

“Have a seat, Your Highness,” Reyna said, gesturing to the chair across her desk.  When he did, she folded her hands in front of herself and leaned back.  “I presume you want to talk about the financial state of Divitia?”

“Well, uh, yes,” Will stammered.  “I thought, if you’re amenable, we could discuss some ideas I had for recovery.”

Reyna nodded for him to continue.

“I’ve been looking into Divitia’s aqueducts,” Will said, unrolling the scroll he’d brought on top of the desk to show her a map of the city’s sewage system.  He’d uncovered it from the palace’s archives that morning before Nico had woken up to distract him.  “It’s all horribly dated.  Nothing’s been touched for a decade.  No maintenance, no upgrades—nothing apart from an occasional cleaning.”

“And for a reason,” Reyna said.  “You know what happened a decade ago.”

“Yes, the Scarlet Delirium,” Will answered.  “But the system needs to be renovated.  I didn’t have an opportunity to examine anything while in the city, but I’m sure it’s in desperate need of repairs and I know it’s inefficient.  The streets are filthy, Reyna.  All that sewage not being properly drained—it must be affecting the health of the citizens.  Sanitation and clean water greatly decrease the risk of spreading disease.  Construction would provide at least temporary employment for some of the citizens and jobs in sanitation would offer a more permanent solution, which won’t fix the economic troubles of the people but should somewhat ease them.  We could contract engineers to design a new system.  Venus’ aqueducts are supposed to be incredibly brilliant—perhaps we could implement something like them here.”

Reyna sighed.  “Will, your enthusiasm is admirable, but you need to think smaller if you want to help people.  Venus has the most sophisticated sewage systems in the world.  The Duchess had the entire island updated less than half a decade ago, but we don’t have the funds to build anything like it in even one city.”

“Then what about the Venadican system?” Will asked.  “Or the Phrygian?  I can write to my aunt and Lityerses to ask for the city plans.”

Reyna shook her head.  “A new system is impossible.  The most we can do is repair and give some minor updates to the one that already exists.”

Will looked down at the map of Divitia’s aqueducts.  “I’ll put more thought into it, then,” he said, rolling the paper back up.  “Smaller thoughts.”

“Have you talked to your husband about your ideas?”

Will paused.  “That’s...um...well, no.”  Nico hadn’t seemed very keen on discussing things earlier.  He’d been more interested in distracting Will with kisses and light touches and pretty smiles.

Reyna sighed and rubbed her temple.  “Gods above, then what do you talk about?”

Her tone caught Will by surprise.  “What do you mean?” 

Reyna shook her head.  “Forgive me, Your Highness, I shouldn’t have said anything.  That wasn’t appropriate.”

Will’s frown deepened.  Your Highness?  Just a moment ago, she’d called him ‘Will.’

Reyna pursed her lips when Will didn’t let her relent.  “It’s really not my place,” she said.  “Only, the both of you seem to be building a habit of not discussing things with each other.  Like in Phrygia.”

“But we talked about what happened in Phrygia,” Will said.  “Besides, do I really need to tell him everything?”

It came out sounding more sour than Will intended, and Reyna picked up on it.  “Are you still fighting?” she asked.

“No,” Will said.  “It’s just that I don’t see why I need to report to him so much—or anyone else, for that matter.  After I went to town yesterday, everyone kept scolding Mellie and I.  Why do people need to know where I am or what I’m doing every second of the day?”

“Everyone wants to see you safe, that’s all,” Reyna assured.  “Well—your husband has the additional motive of wanting to know your schedule so that he can put himself in it whenever possible.  He likes spending time with you.”

“I’m just not used to having to report my activities so much.  I used to leave the Sun Palace to explore Phoebus and Delphi all the time, and in Venadica I lived in the city.”

“Phoebus, Delphi, and Venadica don’t have the same level of crime as Divitia.”

“Yes, I noticed,” Will admitted, thinking of his lost coin purse.  “But it’s still restraining.  Almost suffocating.”

“You could tell the Prince you feel that way,” Reyna suggested with a faint clip of exasperation in her tone.  “Just an idea.”

Will frowned.  “You really think Nico and I don’t talk seriously enough?”

Reyna folded her arms.  “I didn’t say that, precisely.  It just seems like there are a few important things that you’ve neglected to mention to one another.”

Will had to admit, they did spend a considerable amount of time kissing or talking about unimportant nonsense.  “Then is there something that Nico hasn’t told me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Reyna repeated, but she didn’t deny it, either.

“Perhaps I should talk to him,” Will said.  “You’re right, after all.  We’re married.  We should talk to each other about these things.”  And if there was something Nico hadn’t told him, Nico might feel better about discussing it if Will opened up to him first.

“I’m going to see Akhlys and offer my assistance in the infirmary again,” Will said.  “If Nico asks for me when he finishes Hazel’s fencing lesson, will you tell him I’ve gone there?”

Reyna nodded.  “Yes, Your Highness.  Leave the aqueduct map here and I’ll look over it.”

Will glanced at the rolled paper in his hands.  “Really?  But I thought you said we couldn’t do anything.”

“I said that you need to think smaller,” Reyna corrected.  “It’s a good idea, Will.  We can’t do it on the scale you’d like, but if you and I do more research, we’ll find a more obtainable solution.  I’ll contact some engineers to hear their initial thoughts.”

Will beamed.  “Thank you, Reyna,” he said, setting the map back down on her desk.  “I appreciate your time.”

“Always, Your Highness.  And good luck with Akhlys.  Maybe this time she’ll be more agreeable.”

“Somehow I doubt it,” Will mumbled, but he thanked her all the same.

Will, as usual, found Akhlys alone in the darkened, dusty infirmary.  The door was only barely cracked open, like she was trying to make the space as uninviting as possible without rendering it unavailable.  Will saw her silhouette shadowed in the back of the infirmary behind the desk, handling a silver instrument and blinking at it with bleary eyes.  Will squinted, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

“What’s that?” Will asked as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Akhlys slammed her instrument down on the desk and Will cringed.  He hoped the instrument wasn’t too expensive.  “You again!” Akhlys barked.  “How many times must I chase you off?”

“But I—”

“Out!” she said, standing up and waving her arms to shoo him away.  “Leave!”

Will almost backed into the corridor again, but then reminded himself to stand his ground.  “I thought if we talked a bit more, we might come up with an arrangement that suits both of us.”

“My current arrangement is miserable enough,” Akhlys said as she stormed out from around her desk.  “I do not need men puttering about my infirmary making a mess of things, too.”

Will blinked in surprise.  It had been a while since the last time his gender had caused an issue; healing was a women’s discipline, but it did not actively exclude men.  People generally did nothing more than express surprise at seeing him in a woman’s role.  It wasn’t uncommon for patients to feel more comfortable with a female doctor, but they were usually polite if they requested another physician, sometimes not even speaking up until Will noticed their unease and asked if they would rather be treated by someone else.  Comfort and trust were of utmost importance when treating a patient, so Will considered it his duty to provide that for them.

But Akhlys wasn’t a patient.  Akhlys was a fellow healer clinging to outdated rules of conduct, brushing Will aside because of his sex.  Will was reminded of a few researchers at the Grand Expo who had all but ignored him until they realized who he was—a student of Asclepius and the nephew of the Matestra.  Within the first few days of the Expo, Will had learned to introduce himself as Asclepius’ pupil at the beginning of every conversation so that he’d be taken seriously from the start.

“I understand your apprehension,” Will said, forcing his tone to sound polite.  “But I am a perfectly qualified student of medicine.  I studied in Venadica under Asclepius, and if you like, I can share my research with you and—”

“I do not care!” Akhlys interrupted, now standing so close that Will could see the yellow crust that always seemed to line her eyes.  “I do not want anyone’s assistance, least of all a bastard like you.”

Will felt like he’d been slapped.  People didn’t call him that—not to his face, at least.  Natural-born, yes, but bastard?  Most people wouldn’t dare.

“Akhlys!” roared an angry voice, and Will and Akhlys both whirled around to find Nico in the open doorway to the infirmary, still clothed in his fencing gear and eyes blazing with fury.

Will had seen Nico angry before.  He’d been formally introduced to Nico’s temper during their trip to Phrygia.  But he hadn’t seen Nico angry like this.

“What did you just call my husband?”

Akhlys’ usually pallid face went white.  “Your Highness, I did not mean—”

“Oh, but I think you did,” Nico snapped.  “I demand you apologize this instant.  I will not allow anyone in this palace to speak to my husband that way.”

“Nico, it’s alright,” Will said, trying to sound soft and soothing.  “She doesn’t need to—”

“Yes, she does,” Nico interrupted.  “No one speaks to the Prince’s consort that way.  Akhlys, now.”

Akhlys, Will had thought, only seemed to know two emotions: anger and misery.  But now he realized she also knew fear.  Akhlys’ sunken eyes had grown in terror, her thin body recoiling in fright.  And despite how unlikable her personality was, Will couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” Akhlys croaked.  “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s quite alright,” Will said.

“It isn’t,” Nico insisted.  “I don’t care how long you have worked here, Akhlys.  I don’t care how many kings you have served.  If you treat my husband this way again, I will see you removed from the palace.”  His hand latched firmly around Will’s wrist and he tugged his arm.  “Come,” he said, pulling Will through the doorway.

Will followed obediently, but looked back at Akhlys as they left, worried in spite of himself that she’d be alright.  Regardless, his chances of developing an amicable professional relationship with her seemed worse than ever.

*   *   *

Only one person, aside from Nico himself, had ever called Nico a bastard to his face, but that had been more than enough to cement the idea in his mind as a child: Nico was a bastard, and that was unforgivable.

And yet, it had been a long time since Nico had last thought of himself as disgusting due to his birth.  He didn’t think he was lesser than anyone else because of it and he didn’t think that it made him undeserving of his title.  Without realizing it, Nico had become more comfortable with the knowledge that he was natural-born, and while Nico knew that he had been improving since long before his engagement, he was also aware that a large part of it was thanks to Will.  After all, Will was natural-born, and Will deserved the world.  How could being natural-born be disgusting?

So when Nico heard the word ‘bastard’ directed at his husband, his temper flared into an uncontrolled inferno.  He knew what it felt like to be called a bastard, to be told that his very existence was shameful, and to be forced into believing that he was worthless.  Nico wouldn’t hesitate to banish anyone to the depths of Tartarus for making his husband feel that way.

From over his shoulder, Nico heard Will’s voice, small and uncertain: “Are you upset with me?” 

Nico slowed to a stop in front of their rooms and turned back to face him.  “Of course not,” he said.  “Why do you think I’m upset with you?”

“You are pulling me.”

Nico looked down at their hands, finally noticing that he’d grabbed Will by the wrist.  He let go immediately, but Will’s sleeve was already wrinkled.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Nico frowned.  Will kept saying that, but it wasn’t alright.  It wasn’t alright for Akhlys to speak to him the way she had.  It wasn’t alright for Nico to drag him away without permission.

But Will entwined his fingers with Nico’s and led him through the door to their apartments.

“I’m not upset with you,” Nico repeated, closing the door behind himself for privacy.

“Yet it seems like you disapprove of how I handled Akhlys,” Will said as he deposited himself on the chaise in front of the cold fireplace.

“No, I—” Nico stopped.  “Actually, yes, I do.  You can’t let her speak that way to you, Will.  What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?  Would you have just allowed it?”

Will raised an eyebrow calmly.  “It’s not as though her opinion is particularly uncommon.  I’m not ashamed of who I am, but I do realize that with my parentage being what it is, I was never the ideal candidate for a prince’s husband.”

“You were the perfect candidate for a prince’s husband!  I chose you, didn’t I?  And I did so knowing very well that your natural parents weren’t married.  That at least should be enough for Akhlys to know better than to speak to you that way.  How dare she call you a...a....”  Nico waved vaguely, unable to say the word.

“It’s nothing that I haven’t heard before.”

Nico clenched his fists.  “Who else?  I’ll make every one of them apologize—”

“No one in the palace,” Will assured calmly—too calmly for Nico’s liking.  “I don’t think I’ve been called a bastard since before we were engaged, actually.  It wasn’t uncommon for the families of prospective suitors to either refuse me or offer little in return for my dowry—‘on account of the circumstances of his birth,’ they’d say, if they were being polite about it.”

“Polite?”

“Oh, and Octavian calls me a bastard all the time, but that hardly counts.  No one listens to Octavian.  The point is, I’ve gotten used to it.  It was a bit of a shock to hear from Akhlys, but it doesn’t bother me much.”

“Well, it bothers me!” Nico snapped.  “It’s disgusting.  How could anyone imply that you’re sullied or...or impure?  And what does the marital status of one’s birth parents mean, anyway?  That doesn’t make you a....”  Nico gestured again.

“But I am a bastard.”

Nico felt something inside himself shake and threaten to crumble, like he was ten years old again and Minos...Minos....

It’s no wonder you’re so incompetent, bastard that you are.

Selfish bastard brat!

Your sister may have been a bastard too, but at least she was intelligent.

You’re nothing but a whore’s filthy bastard!

But I am a bastard.

“Stop saying that word,” Nico choked.  “Natural-born.  You are natural-born.  You’re not...that.”

“Natural-born, then,” Will relented, but the hint of exasperation in his tone suggested that he was growing frustrated with Nico.  “And it’s not disgusting.  I thought you didn’t care?”

“I didn’t!” Nico said.  “Don’t,” he immediately corrected.  Why was it that he always said things wrong when he got this way—angry and nervous and too emotional to string words together properly?  “I meant they are disgusting—the people who call you that—not you and not your birth.  I just hate that vile word.  I don’t want anyone to use it on you.”

Will sighed.  “Nico, I appreciate you trying to defend my honor, but—”

“Will,” Nico interrupted, “the Queen Consort is barren.”

The silence that followed lasted only a second, but it boomed and echoed in Nico’s ears for what felt like hours.

He’d said it.  He’d finally said it.  Nico had always intended to tell Will about his biological parentage, and now that Will was his husband, Nico didn’t have to keep the secret from him.  He still felt a sharp, brief jolt of terror that Will would be disgusted and announce he couldn’t love Nico anymore, but that fear was quickly crushed beneath the heel of certainty that Will would not abandon him or begrudge him for being natural-born.  Nico had said it because he trusted Will, he reminded himself.  It would be alright.  After all, he and Will were the same.

“Barren?” Will repeated.

Nico nodded.

Will was quiet for another moment.  Then he said, “That’s nothing to be concerned about.  It’s normal for women her age to stop cycling—”

Nico blinked.  “Wait, what?”

Will tilted his head curiously.  “Haven’t you heard of menopause?”

Nico hadn’t, but he felt fairly certain that Will had misunderstood his point.

“Will, she’s always been barren,” he said.

Will stared at Nico, his head still tipped to one side.  At first, all Nico could read in his expression was confusion, but then the lines of Will’s face began to change—slowly, then all at once.

Will sat up straighter.  “Then you mean...you mean, she’s not....”

Nico ached to hide his face, but forced himself not to look away from Will’s eyes.  “She’s not my birth mother.”

“Oh,” Will said.  “Oh.”

And he fell silent.  Nico watched and waited until the shock in his eyes had dulled just a bit more before he spoke again.

“Will, you can’t tell anyone.  If it becomes known that I’m not the King and Queen Consort’s natural child, the country will go into chaos.  People hate me enough already; they’d love a reason to throw me out of the line of succession.  No one else can know about this.  You understand that, don’t you?”

Will nodded.  “Yes, of course,” he said, his brow furrowing adorably.  Nico wanted to kiss the wrinkles away, but it didn’t seem like an appropriate time.

“You have questions,” Nico observed, gingerly sitting beside him on the chaise.  Will glanced at Nico when he sat down, his mouth opening to say something, but hesitated.

“You may ask anything,” Nico said, weaving and unweaving his fingers anxiously.  “I’ll answer what I can.”

Will wet his lips.  “Can you tell me about your birth mother?  Who is she?”

“Do you recall my governess, Lady Maria?  I’ve mentioned her before.”

Will nodded.

“She was my birth mother.  Before Bianca was born, Maria was one of my mother’s—that is, one of Persephone’s ladies.  When my father and Persephone discovered she couldn’t have children, Maria became...a surrogate, I suppose you could say.”

“How did they manage to keep it a secret?” Will asked.

“When Maria’s condition became too obvious to hide, they said Persephone’s pregnancy had complications,” Nico answered.  “Everyone in the palace was told that she would remain in her rooms and was only to be attended by two of her ladies—Maria being one of them.”

“And the other?” Will asked.

Nico pursed his lips.  “Her name was Marie.  She was Persephone’s half-sister and Hazel’s natural mother.  When I became heir to the throne, I was already fixated on the idea of taking a husband, so if I was to remain childless, my father needed another heir to continue the royal line.  Maria and Bianca died around the same time so with Maria gone, Marie was the best option for a surrogate.  She already knew that Persephone couldn’t have children.”

And Nico’s parents had trusted her.  Why wouldn’t they trust Persephone’s sister?

That trust turned out to be misplaced, in the end.

“And what happened to Marie?” Will asked.  “You speak of her in the past tense.”

“She’s dead now,” Nico answered.  He tried to remain impassive when he said it, but something in his voice must have alerted Will.  Will watched him with a studious gaze, like he was trying to answer a puzzling question, and Nico avoided looking at him directly.

“I’m sorry,” said Will.  “I know that Lady Maria was important to you, but was Marie...?”

“No,” Nico answered.  “Marie—she was...well, that’s another story.”

Memories of that night still tormented Nico’s dreams.  Sometimes, he still woke up gasping, desperately clawing at the invisible hands clamped around his throat.  He still saw the shadow of someone looming over him in his nightmares, reaching down to strangle him in his sleep.  Just last month, he’d bolted upright in bed, clutching his own neck, coughing, gagging—it was a miracle that he hadn’t woken Will.

“Does Hazel know?” Will asked.

It took Nico a moment to remember Will was still asking about their natural birth.  “No,” he said.  “I wasn’t supposed to know, either.  I found out on accident.”

“Accident?”

“My tutor, Minos.  He told me while we were on the countryside.”

Will frowned.  “How did he tell you on accident?”

“He was angry,” Nico explained.  He couldn’t recall why Minos had been so furious at that particular moment.  Perhaps the memory had been lost in the shock of what happened after, or perhaps Nico hadn’t known why to begin with; towards the end of Nico’s stay at his estate, Minos’ temper started to become so easily tipped that Nico had a difficult time keeping track of exactly what he’d done wrong.  Minos hadn’t always been so harsh with Nico, but once Nico found out about the baiting....

“He lost control of himself,” Nico went on.  “He shouted at me and called me a....” He cut himself off, unable to stomach saying the word.  “But he didn’t mean to say it.  At least, not the first time.”

“Nico,” Will said, slowly and deliberately.  “That does not qualify as finding out ‘on accident.’  You do understand how that’s not an accident, don’t you?”

“He was angry,” Nico repeated.  “He couldn’t control himself.”

The lines of Will’s face drew tight and hard in that unforgiving way that always caught Nico by surprise.  “I don’t believe that’s true,” Will said.  “People don’t do things on accident when they’re angry.  They use anger as an excuse to justify themselves.  And you couldn’t have been more than ten years old at the time!  What sort of person says that to a child?”

Nico bit back the urge to argue that Minos couldn’t be blamed.  After all, Nico knew what it was like to be that angry—to feel fury well up inside him so hot that he saw red.  He knew what it was like to lose his grip on himself and fly into a rage, to do and say things that he’d be ashamed of later.  Nico had done it before.  He’d done it to Will.

Nico’s stomach lurched.  No—he wasn’t like Minos.  He couldn’t be like Minos.  He wouldn’t.  He’d never, ever hurt Will the way Minos had hurt him.

“Where is Minos, anyway?” Will asked.

Nico clenched his fists.  “Gone,” he said firmly.

Gone, Nico repeated in his mind.  He’s gone, he thought again, the way he’d practiced.  For nearly a year after returning to Divitia, Nico had stayed up late each night, holding his knees, rocking back and forth, and reciting the words over and over until they were firmly planted in his head.  Minos was gone.  It was over.

Will nodded.  “Good,” he said.  Nico flinched, but Will didn’t seem to notice.  “So Minos knew about your birth.  Who else?  Akhlys would have overseen the pregnancies, I assume.”

“She didn’t,” said Nico.  “My father requested a sororal midwife—your aunt.”

Will raised his eyebrows.  “Artemis?”

“Maria’s first pregnancy happened while Artemis was still a soror in Venadica.  She was sent here when my father asked for a midwife,” Nico explained.  “She became Soror Princepa of Delphi before I was born, but she still answered the call when my parents asked for her help again.  Maria was without a midwife for the first few months, though. Artemis had other matters to attend to in Diana before she could travel to Pluto—she was helping deliver you, actually.  By the time Hazel was conceived, Artemis was the Matestra, the Scarlet Delirium was in its downswing, and I was living on the countryside.  Artemis left Venadica to stay here in the palace under the guise of diplomatic purposes.”

“And I must have already fled Pluto with the other Venadican children, so I didn’t even know she’d left the city,” Will said.  “Did Bianca know any of this?”

Nico shook his head.  “No.  The only other people who know are Reyna and a few of my father’s closest advisers.  Hestia, too.”

Hestia had been there the day Nico found out.  She’d entered Nico’s room to find him crying, and Nico, too distraught to feel more ashamed than he already did, had told her everything.

Will looked confused for a moment, then his expression cleared and he said, “I’d forgotten you were friends with Hestia.  She was a maid at Minos’ estate, wasn’t she?  I always wondered how you came to know each other so well.”

“We looked after each other,” Nico said.  “We had to.”

Had to, from the moment Hestia found the beaten dog hidden in Nico’s room.  Had to, when Nico needed her help smuggling food to Asterion.  Had to, when Minos discovered them and....

Nico looked up and found himself pinned under the gaze of Will’s soft blue eyes, almost crushed by the gentle understanding in them.

“You can tell me anything,” Will said, but he didn’t ask for details.  Nico was grateful.  One day, he’d tell Will everything, but today he’d already said enough.  He could only bear his soul so much before the pain immobilized him.

“I know you brought all this up because of what Akhlys said, but you realize you could have told me any time, don’t you?” Will said.  “If you were trying to comfort me with the knowledge that both of us are natural-born, or if you felt you somehow owed it to me to tell me....”

“No, that wasn’t why,” Nico assured.  “At least, that wasn’t the only reason.  I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.  And yes, maybe I did think you’d take comfort in the fact that we’re the same, because I know I do.  I was ashamed of it for a long time, but then I met you and...you weren’t.  If you don’t feel ashamed, why should I?  So when I told Akhlys to apologize to you, I wasn’t just trying to ‘defend your honor’ or whatever it was you said earlier.  I think I was trying to defend myself, too.  It sounds selfish, but—”

“It doesn’t,” Will said.  “Not in the slightest.  And it bothered you when I wasn’t as upset with Akhlys as you were, didn’t it?  You wanted me to stand up for myself because then I’d be standing up for you, too.”

Nico swallowed thickly and managed a short nod.  “Maybe being called a ba— being called that doesn’t bother you as much as it bothers me, but my experience with that word is different.”

Will’s head inclined encouragingly.  “Minos?” he asked.

Nico nodded again.

“Then you must have really hated it when I called myself that.”

Nico’s eyes drifted towards the tiled ground.  “I don’t mean to tell you what you can and can’t say—” he started.

Will reached out and placed his hand on top of Nico’s.  “It’s alright,” he assured.  “No, you can’t tell me what to say or not say.  But this?  I can do this for you.  I won’t use that word anymore and I won’t allow anyone to call me it, either.  It’s not like I’m especially fond of it, anyway.”

And then Will kissed Nico, and Nico hadn’t realized how much he needed it until that moment.  He knew Will still loved him, but the physical affection made it feel more real.

Will didn’t care that Nico was natural-born.  He would love Nico no matter who his birth parents were.

“Thank you for telling me this,” Will said.  “It couldn’t have been easy for you to talk about that, but I’m so grateful that you did.”

“I wanted to tell you sooner — almost did, a few times.  But I decided to wait until we were married.  It’s a family secret, and now you’re part of the family.”  Nico didn’t add that he’d also wanted to wait because once they were married, Will wouldn’t be able to leave him.

Well—that wasn’t quite true.  The marriage was unconsummated.  Will could still leave.  Will didn’t know that, though.  He wouldn’t leave if he didn’t know it was a possibility.

Nico’s stomach twisted.  How could he even think that?  Will wasn’t disgusted.  Nico had known that Will wouldn’t be disgusted.  And besides, he couldn’t trap Will in marriage—he wouldn’t do that to someone he loved.  So if Will had wanted to leave him....

It was best not to think about that.  Will would never have left him for being natural-born and it was an insult to Will that Nico had ever worried.

“I trust you,” Nico said, partly to remind himself.  Something about speaking the words out loud solidified them further in his mind the same way the kiss had, allowing him to reaffirm his grip on their truth.  Will had never given Nico a reason to doubt him.  Nico could trust Will.

“And you always can,” Will said.  “I’m your husband.  You can tell me anything.  Happy things, sad or angry things—even simple, unimportant things.  Anything, Nico.”

Nico resisted the instinct to avert his eyes.  Eye contact was hard for him, especially at times like this when he felt uncertain, or scared, or guilty.  Nico trusted Will, but he couldn’t tell him just anything.  Most things, yes.  But not anything.

“But only if you want to,” Will continued, like he sensed Nico’s hesitance even though Nico had tried to hide it.  “I understand that some things are difficult for you to talk about and other things you may rather keep private.  You can tell me anything, but you don’t have to tell me everything.”  Will waited a moment, like he was giving Nico a chance to say something, but when Nico stayed silent, he said, “Anyway, you were right about Akhlys.  That was an awfully nasty thing to say.”

Nico wrinkled his nose.  “It was completely out of line.  Even if I weren’t natural-born, I would have been furious with her.  No one speaks to the Prince’s consort that way.”

“My gallant protector,” Will said, sliding his arm around Nico’s back and kissing his temple.  “What do you say we spend the rest of the day like this?  I seem to have a free schedule.”

“But I thought you wanted time to yourself,” Nico said.

“I did,” Will answered.  “And now I want time with you.  Are you agreeable?”

Nico sighed contentedly as Wills lips brushed over the crest of his ear.  “Yes, I’d like that,” he said, and he leaned into his husband’s side and let the comfortable warmth of Will’s love wash over him.

[architectuul]

Curating an Exhibition in 2020: Handle with Care

Architecture exhibition Handle with Care: Tales of the Invisible opens at the Lisbon Architecture Triennale on October 15, as part of this year’s program of the Future Architecture Platform. To mark the occasion, here’s the interview with Sonja Lakić, architect, researcher and curator of the exhibition.

Preparing the exhibition at Lisbon Architecture Triennale headquarters, August 2020. | Photo © Sara Battesti

As we’re approaching the winter season of the pandemic which has pushed the entire world into various forms and intensities of isolation, it seems like there could hardly be a better time to reflect upon the practice of care and its relationship to architecture. Our rooms are becoming our worlds. When you began dreaming up this exhibition, did you anticipate it opening in this context of increased awareness of the spaces we inhabit? Absolutely not. The only spaces that curating this exhibition was supposed to unfold in, apart from Lisbon Architecture Triennale headquarters, were, obviously, interiors of Future Architecture platform partners institutions that I was, as it was originally planned, about to visit last spring. I would also add interiors of airports and airplanes to the list. Hotels included. I am still curious about all the breakfasts I missed due to pandemic. I, obviously, ended up making my dreams happen in front of my screen, meeting people sitting in front of their own laptops and/or computer screens, mostly inside their homes around Europe. I vividly remember the variety of blankets, cozy sofas and afternoon naps that violently came to an end due to numerous online meetings across Europe, as well as scaffolding outside an apartment in Turin that reminded me on L’Aquila, where I completed my PhD, planting a garden on a rooftop terrace in Lisbon, dilemmas from Berlin, and, finally, being taken next to a window in Barcelona to clap and support all the caretakers. I dreamt inside all of these homes without stepping inside any of them, appreciating them as the new landscapes of care, and, finally, landed in Lisbon: we are all, obviously, still in the mode of the increased awareness by all means, yet, the exhibition will get you covered from A to Z. It is, after all, handled with care.   

Space Which Meditates: Future Architecture Accessories | Photo © Sonja Lakić

How did your background in architectural research and your lasting interest in lived forms of buildings inform your work on curating this exhibition?

I am somewhat a dissident from the discipline: I work visually, yet, I operate at the scale of the everyday, chasing after the non-evident and doing the storytelling by often using the language of urban anthropology and urban ethnography. I do not believe that architecture is only a physical matter: there is more to the story than meets the eye. That being said, there was only one way to curate the “Tales of the Invisible”: zero concrete. Zero final solutions. Hardly any material architecture. From the very beginning, I knew there would be no space for the permanently built structures: instead, I, again, chose to focus on the human clay and bring different people and thinking experiments to light. I searched for different concepts and ideas, digging deep for passion and determination, attempts and failures, individuals and groups that once made the architecture world turn around, traveling back and forth in time, myself unlearning what architecture may (not) be. There is never a wrong moment to celebrate humankind and this exhibition is, to a certain extent, an excuse to do so: a gentle reminder of what still surrounds us and what we are made of, or, at least, once were.

The creative process: keeping it as analogue as possible. | Drawings and photos © Sonja Lakić

Curator's Log. An excerpt. Preparing "Handle with Care: Tales of the Invisible" exhibition for Lisbon Architecture Triennale under the Lisbon sun. | Video © Sonja Lakić

In your curatorial statement, you refer to this exhibition as to “homage to the quirks of the human mind”, “a call to re-think where we stand” and “a gentle reminder that life comes before buildings”. Can this be interpreted as an invitation to (re)consider the political role of architecture? I, most of all, envisioned the exhibition as a conversation, or, more precisely, a call for heart-to-heart exchange of this kind: my intention and desire is that people experience it and understand it in a variety of ways, yet, in full accordance with who they genuinely are. I never aimed to reach a consensus of any kind since that would mark an end of any debate. I, therefore, thank you for this question: I am more than happy to see that, days prior to the opening, the exhibition already lives its purpose by being interpreted. Thus, to a certain extent, the answer to your question is: yes, this is also an invitation to (re)consider the political role of architecture. What, for example, influenced my curatorial approach is “the awareness to the wonders” that Alberto Pérez-Gómez believes and, moreover, propagates in the book “Built upon Love: Architectural Longing after Ethics and Aesthetics”: we, whoever we may (not) be, should develop and nurture this skill that I interpret as “to stop and smell the roses”. This exhibition does this as well. Referring to your question, I have to say that I, obviously, find architecture political and this is, with no doubt, where consensus is inevitable.

Creating models from a discarded box of chocolate cookies | Photo © Sonja Lakić

Can architecture amplify the human potential for care-giving and care-receiving, and if so, how?

I believe that architecture itself stands for the noble discipline of care. This is why I, once upon a time, decided to study it: I recognised it as an opportunity to care about people while never letting go of mathematics, arts and drawing. For a nerd like me, to be engaged in this wide spectrum of disciplines is even nowadays of crucial importance, and was, therefore, as equally important during the early university days of mine, when I managed to detect  traces of psychology and sociology in very few courses I was enrolled in. 

Architecture, most of all, is all about a very particular responsibility that first comes with the vision of an architect and next translates to “a program” of how to use a building: this is where one needs to be very careful, while, simultaneously, to care a lot. The program is, say, often a recipe for how to live one’s life, as prescribed by an architect: of course, this rarely happens, for the life itself is not to be tamed. Architecture already amplifies the human potential for care-giving and care-receiving. Or, should I say that there are architects who do so? Maybe that would be more ethical. There are beautiful individual minds and collectives who stand for care by their mere existence, embracing their ethics in their texts and variety of programs. To paraphrase Esra Akcan, one of my favorite minds of all times: architecture can heal. And I believe it should. The process of healing may happen through the process of (un)learning, collaboration with other disciplines, seeing the world through the eyes of the other, while, simultaneously, never ever considering anyone as the other. Same goes for care. 

Taking a break in the summer of the 2020: the Sun, the ocean, the drinks, and the disinfectant gel. | Photo © Sonja Lakić

What, however, instantly comes to my mind when thinking about architecture and care, especially the healing process, is whether it is possible for the healing of post-conflict societies, including the country of my origin, that is, the region of former Yugoslavia, to happen via architectural programs that, to put it simply, celebrate life. What if, instead of constantly exposing one to memorabilia that recalls past events and somewhat advocates for the culture of mourning, we take care of people by gently reminding them of all the reasons why it is good to be alive? I am aware that this is somewhat calling for a revolution, yet, this is how “the awareness to the wonders” I previously mentioned may be attempted to achieve, without any actual construction happening: this is where temporary structures, installations and performances and engaging in performative planning and tactical urbanism, could play an important role. We owe it to ourselves, as well as to each of our individual human potentials, regardless of who we as individuals are, to, at least, try, having a little faith in architecture as an event rather than the final say. 

Sonja Lakić at Lisbon Architecture Triennale headquarters, August 2020. | Photo © Sara Battesti

The exhibition draws from the collections of the Museum of Architecture and Design in Ljubljana, MAXXI National Museum of 21st Century Arts and the Estonian Museum of Architecture. What does curatorial collaboration with museums scattered across Europe look like in a time of Covid-19? 

On the one hand, it resembled any other “new normal” kind of experience and, in that sense, it was not any different from any of the pandemic-imposed daily routine since it evolved around the absence of movement and the impossibility of touch. Simultaneously, it was quite a challenge: can you imagine curating an exhibition without stepping into an institution and getting to see a collection? I did dig deep within myself, looking for answers, and have to admit that, occasionally, it seemed to be a bit of a challenge. However, I have to say that I am immensely grateful to all the people that I crossed paths with and whom I collaborated with on this project: words are not enough to describe how easy and smooth the overall process was and how helpful, patient and caring were partners from Ljubljana, Rome and Tallinn. I learned a lot and indeed grew, yet, not only in professional terms: rather, collaboration with Museum of Architecture and Design in Ljubljana, MAXXI National Museum of 21st Century Arts and the Estonian Museum of Architecture had a profound impact on me personally as well and was, in this sense, a game changer. They were all extremely devoted and committed, helping me connect with architects and scientists that I, prior to this exhibition, have only read about. Oh, I went places I never dreamed of, and I will come back for more, however, in person. Hopefully no more screens.

Lisbon people and their balconies. | Photo © Sonja Lakić

A while ago, you stayed in Lisbon as a visiting researcher at ISCTE-IUL; now you’re back to curate an exhibition commissioned by Lisbon Architecture Triennale. What about the city preoccupies you these days? If Lisbon, as a living archive, could preserve one message from this exhibition, what would you like that message to be?

People. People always preoccupy me regardless of my geographical location. I am currently collaborating with ISCTE-IUL again and am also affiliated with ETNO.URB, so there are many big fishes to fry, and I am extremely happy and beyond excited for this. Of course, I could not help it: again, I observed the Lisbon edition of glazed balconies, and I found that one of them is especially dear to my heart, as it conceals the story about the most notorious apartment in the 1980s neighborhood where I found my home. 

As far as the message, I would say it is rather evident: life comes before buildings. People first. Always and forever.

Sonja Lakić (1983) is an internationally trained architect and researcher with a PhD in Urban Studies. Her work evolves around open architecture and dialectical urbanism, with a keen interest in lived forms of buildings hence anthropological and sociological aspects of architectural design and the built environment. Topics of her curiosity that she nurtured in Gran Sasso Science Institute and while briefly appointed as visiting researcher at ISCTE-IUL in Lisbon, include the everydayness of architecture, home(making), housing and informality, buildings as living archives, post-conflict societies. Sonja operates across different disciplines and scales, works visually, and collects oral histories, practicing unconventional ethnography and storytelling mainly through photography. --- By Sonja Dragović

[zenithlux]

Cadence 23 - Update

In which Vergil and Roxy discuss their options.

Catch up on the story here!

‘Cause I’ve been shaking I’ve been bending backwards till I’m broke Watching all these dreams go up in smoke

Ashes - Céline Dion

 ------------

For a long moment, Vergil was silent. He thought he should be furious. How could Dante lose Yamato at a time like this? Vergil had entrusted it to him because he assumed nothing, not even Mundus, could steal it from him. But when he tried to pull on that expected anger, he found nothing but fear; an all-consuming terror that gnawed at his chest and pulsed through his blood. It threatened to consume him with every breath he took as the world closed in. 

You’re mine, Nelo. 

He didn’t know if that was his paranoia or Mundus himself. 

“Vergil?” Roxy said. 

“How did it happen?” Vergil shook his head as he instinctively caressed her cheek to calm his nerves. He didn’t know why that was his go-to. He’d never tried it before. But it seemed to work, despite the storm that threatened to overtake him. 

The panic in Dante’s voice didn’t help. “I don’t know for sure,” He said. “Nico wanted to look it over. She thought she might be able to use another demon to replicate a portion of its power or something. She was trying to make a new sword for your guy’s temporary pact.”

“Clever,” Vergil said, his voice hollow.

“She had it in this container thing to analyze it when a portal appeared outside. It took me seconds to take the demons out, but by the time I got back, Nico was in a panic saying a portal opened or some shit. A hand broke through the project and grabbed it right from under her.”

Mundus. That was the only name he could think of. Mundus. Mundus Mundus. Who else would go looking for Yamato? Who else would be able to track it so well? Maybe there were other demons that knew about it. And there were probably a few that wanted it. But surely none of them were stupid enough (or maybe clever enouigh) to try stealing it from Dante. 

“I’m sorry, Vergil,” Dante said. “I really… I shouldn’t have let it out of my sight.”

Vergil took a deep, shaky breath. Roxy’s head tilted into his hand as he relayed what Dante had said. “If Mundus has Yamato, then he can call you back,” She said. 

He didn’t think it was possible for his heart to sink any lower. “How easily?”

“I don’t know.”

“The pact,” Dante said. “Can you make it now?”

Roxy grimaced. “Dia was still looking into it, and we don’t have something strong enough to contain his level of power, even for a few seconds.”

“So we’re fucked?”

Vergil didn’t repeat that. “Call Dia,” He murmured. “She’ll know what to do.” It was difficult speaking like this. He felt like he was in a haze of nothingness, going through the expected motions with none of the effort. But what else could he do? He could feel something pulling at him, but was it him thinking of all the ways this could go wrong? Was it Mundus making a move? Was he losing his mind?

“Breathe, Vergil,” Roxy said, reaching for his own cheek. “I need you here, okay? Or none of this will work.”

He nodded, but it was as empty as his words. “Can you get back here, Dante?”

“Do you want me to leave the kid and his family here alone?”

Vergil closed his eyes. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Nero’s safety should be his top priority, yet all he could think about was himself. “No,” he said. “Roxy and I will deal with this. Protect…” His voice broke. “Protect Nero.”

“You’re going to be alright, Verge,” Dante said. “I promise.”

Vergil wanted to believe it. But, as he hung up, he realized just how broken he felt inside. He didn’t hear Roxy speaking. He didn’t realize it when she hung up, and barely felt her tugging on his arm. “We’re going to Dia’s home,” She said. “But we have to hurry.”

Vergil let her drag him away, trying to escape that one, single name… and the voice that accompanied it.

Soon, Nelo.

You’ll be all mine. 

Vergil had no idea how they reached Dia’s home. One minute, they were in Roxy’s apartment, her going through her bookshelves as he watched her from the bed. The next, she had grabbed a book, shouted, “aha” then he blinked and the room was gone. Instead, he was sitting on a stump in the middle of a forest that just happened to be as tall as her bed, and she was staring at an evergreen tree. To their right was a cottage with a thatched roof, cream panelling, wooden beams around the windows, and an old oak door that looked like it was seconds from falling off. The door slammed open before Vergil could react. Dia stormed toward them, yelling,. “More warning would have sufficed!”

“I could have said the same thing about you,” Roxy snapped. 

Dia glared at her. “I know you’re upset, but don’t you dare start taking it out on me.”

“Please tell me you have a plan.” 

“Barely,” Dia said. “But you are safe here.”

“Safe?” Vergil said. “How can you guarantee that?”

“My home exists between worlds,” Dia said, almost offended. As if Vergil was supposed to magically know such a thing. “It is very difficult to find if you’ve never been here before. Even those capable of making portals like our mysterious Yamato thief would need years or significant luck to make it here. ” She hobbled over to Roxy. “Now you mentioned this Nico girl may have an idea.”

“I’m not sure the specifics,” Roxy said. “But it sounds like she was making a false Yamato of sorts. Something we could use to make the temporary pact. But I’m not sure how far she got before it was stolen.”

“That is an interesting solution,” Dia said. “Theoretically if you imbue it with the power of an unrelated demon it could work.”

“Maybe Kuro?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But…”

“He needs to be as strong as possible to keep you alive,” Dia said. “If something were to happen to Kuro’s power, then either you would die, or Vergil would have to take his place.” There was a long pause. “Permanently.” 

Permanently.

Vergil was only vaguely surprised that that word barely bothered him now. Considering the alternative…

Wait. 

“Is it because of her paralysis?” Vergil said. “I can work with her if the stasis becomes more severe.”

The hesitation on Dia’s face gave Vergil pause. Even Roxy looked a bit confused, glancing between them. “He’s… not wrong… right?” She said. “There has to be a way around it.”

“It’s not that simple,” The demoness said. “Both of you stay here. I am going to see if I can get your friend to my world without too much of a fuss.”

“You think she can help?”

“I think she’s on the right track,” Dia said as she sauntered away. “The cottage is all yours for the next few days, but please try not to destroy anything. I only have one.” She paused for a moment, and glanced at Vergil. “You should probably tell her the truth. Sooner rather than later. That fruit is the reason this is such a problem.” 

And as her words hit him like a ton of bricks, Dia vanished into thin air. 

“Truth?” Roxy said. “Vergil?”

Vergil closed his eyes. Which truth did she want? There were so many mistakes. So many failures. Which truth would Dia even know? He was too exhausted to think. Too… 

Broken.

“Vergil,” Roxy whispered as she stepped up beside him. He hated how weary she looked. Hated the way she approached him like some kind of wild animal. Like he would snap at any moment. But could he really blame her? Who knew how close Mundus was to his mind now. And who would stop the demon king if he appeared right now, or pulled Vergil away? Or, even worse, what would she do if Mundus forced Vergil to fight her? 

What would he do if he lost someone else?

“Leave, Roxy,” Vergil said. “You can’t…”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Rage coursed through him so fast he couldn’t stop it. “Don’t you get it?” He snapped. “I’m nothing but a monster, and that’s all I’m destined to be.” He rose from the log, his mind racing. Words spilled out before he could stop them. “I’m the one who rose the Qliphoth Tree. I’m the monster who wanted power so badly that I destroyed the entire city for the power of the demon king. I tore myself in half, discarded my human form, killed hundreds of thousands of people,” He choked on his words. Something pricked the corner of his eyes; a feeling he hadn’t felt in decades. “So go, Roxy. Leave me to this fate. It’s what I deserve.”

Silence fell. Her eyes were as wide as they could go. And even though she had taken a long step back. Even though she had postured herself to run as far away as possible, Vergil didn’t see fear in her eyes. He didn’t see the hurt or betrayal he expected. And, as she took a long and deep breath, she stood up straight, closed her eyes for a moment, and tightened her lips into a thin line. 

“Mundus did that to you, didn’t he?”

Vergil stared at her. “What?”

“He tortured you,” She said as she took a step toward him. “Did he not?”

“That doesn’t…”

“Kuro told me all the stories,” She whispered. “How the demon king tore demons apart, just so they could put themselves back together again. How he manipulated and murdered whoever he wanted. How he made people forget who they were, took away their names, and enslaved them.” She stopped right in front of him, her eyes steely with determination. “You escaped, and your broken mind did what you thought was right.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then keep going,” She said. “Tell me everything. Talk until you can’t think anymore. Until everything is off your chest and you can move on.” 

Vergil froze, dumbfounded. How could she talk like she was forgiving him? Did she not hear what he’d said? Did she not understand the pain he’d caused? The destruction he’d wrought because he hadn’t believed in his human self?

Then, her hand touched his chest. “That scar,” she murmured. “The marks… they represent the day you broke yourself in two, don’t they.”

“Yamato separates man from devil,” Vergil said, his voice hollow. 

“You stabbed yourself?”

Slowly, he nodded. “My body was crumbling… every step I took was pure agony. I couldn’t remember anything. All I knew was that I had to fight my brother. I had to win. I had to prove I could… but my demon half did more than I ever expected him too. He was… pure evil incarnate. A creature that ate the Qliphoth fruit because power was more important than life.”

“And your human half?”

That was the moment Vergil realized that her voice was soothing. His anger and fear had all but evaporated. His thoughts had slowed. His mind was clinging to the memories she wanted to hear, desperate to prove that he deserved a second chance. “He regretted everything,” Vergil said. “He realized his mistakes, and fought desperately to fix them. But…” He took a deep breath. “He also wanted to live. He wanted to reunite with that demon… that monster… and keep fighting. He wanted to prove that he was worth something, despite the endless pool of regret and failures.” Despite his deep breath, his next words were spoken in a whisper. “He wanted to be protected... and loved.”

She brushed his cheek. “Maybe that’s why your demon changed.”

“What?”

“You said this demon form of yours is a new one, right?”

Once again, Vergil was baffled. “He changed because I ate the fruit.”

She shook her head. “I think he changed because you did.” Her hand pressed harder against his chest, as if attempting to reach his very soul. “Can you ever atone for what happened? I don’t know. But I believe this you is different from the demon that you unleashed. This you cares about this world. This you has a purpose. A family. A future.” She looked up at him. “A reason to be a better person, and keep fighting for a better world.”

If he were any other person, Vergil would have crumbled right then and there. But as her arms slowly wrapped around him, and as she whispered over and over about how everything would be okay, Vergil found himself humbled by it all. And when she gently pushed him back to sit on the log to meet her gaze, he didn’t stop her. He watched her eyes as she ran her hands up onto his shoulders and kissed his forehead. 

“I don’t know how yet,” Roxy whispered. “But I will protect you, Vergil. As long as I breathe, he will not take you from me.”

In that moment, he believed her. 

[alliyaaites]

Tmj 80 Astonishing Diy Ideas

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Magnesium Dosage For Bruxism

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Obstructive Sleep Apnea And Bruxism

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[vvirgils]

Chronicles of Straith #2- The Witch’s Dragon:Chapter 3

Chronicles of Straith #1-Fate’s Door///Chapter 2/Chapter 4//Masterpost

Nobody seemed to know what to do about the situation at hand. Virgil managed to find Rafaela after a few hours, but she was unusually quiet on the subject, and offered no useful advice. Roman was dealing with everyone asking for a solution, which they couldn’t offer.

After the thousandth person they had to turn away, saying that everyone was working on a solution, Roman rather rudely slammed the door in the face of the next solicitor to their rooms. What were they supposed to do? Virgil and Rafaela had to be working their hardest to figure something out, but Roman had no idea. The explosion had happened hours ago, and Roman was as shocked as anyone else.

Trying to pressure their brain into some sort of solution, Roman took a seat at their desk. There had to be some way to fix it, or at least provide temporary peace. Of course, no solutions were becoming clear to Roman. Looking for a distraction, they scanned their desk. Perhaps a solution was there, just waiting to be found.

Yet there was something unusual there, that Roman’s own hands had not placed. While it wasn’t uncommon for there to be something there from a passing courtier or maid, this letter bore a seal that wasn’t Straith’s. It was familiar in some way, and Roman let all thoughts of the woods step away as they opened the paper 

From the Land of Canea, read the top of the letter. Their hands froze around the paper. How long had it been since someone had even mentioned their mother? Roman glanced at their red scarf, hanging from a coat hook. Straith had forgotten its former queen, but the current king had not. Filled with a sense of urgency, Roman read further.

Dearest Roman, 

I am very pleased to see that you have taken the mantle of kingship in Straith. The news was shocking, but I believe that despite your youth, you have the capacity to be one of the greatest kings your nation has ever seen. Pleasantries aside, my reason for contacting you is that your father, Epos, is no longer ruling, due to your taking the throne and banishing him. I have heard conflicting stories about how this took place, although I hardly think that you took out twelve guards single-handedly on your way to the throne room.

As it has been so long since these two branches of our family have had any contact, I would like for you to come visit Canea. I miss your mother, Madeline, to this day, and I would love for you to meet her family. I understand Epos’ policy following the death of my dear sister, but I am sad that it has kept us apart for so long. If you wish, I have arranged for my representative to remain in Straith for a week following this letter. They are staying outside the castle grounds, in a tavern called the Nag’s Head. Get your affairs in order, and they will gladly take you to Canea for as long as you wish. I hope it wasn’t difficult for them to get this letter to you.

I am anxious to see you soon, and I hope that we can discuss your mother together. 

King Markus, Ruler of Canea and Lover of Dogs

Roman wiped a tear from their eye, not sure why it had appeared. Their instinct was, of course, to go. Pack a small bag of clothes, disguise themself as a peasant, and climb out the window. But…there were responsibilities, after all. Advisors who wanted a solution to the problem in the forest, one which Roman did not have. The letter had instructed that Roman get their affairs in order, but that would be a pain.

If there was one thing Roman was certain of, it was that their advisors, cabinet members and the like, would not want them to leave. So…well, it was easier to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission, after all.

They scribbled a quick note, addressed it to Virgil, briefly explaining why they were gone. Hopefully, she would think to check their desk. Roman grabbed a bag and shoved some various clothing into it, not caring too much. With another glance at the letter, they took the scarf off of the hook and wrapped it around their neck. Hopefully, their uncle get new clothes for Roman if they needed it, because they knew they hadn’t packed well.

When the bag was packed, Roman threw a cloak over their clothes. They didn’t want to change—it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for the king—and there was always the risk that the embassy wouldn’t recognize them in street clothes. For good measure, Roman slipped the note into their pocket, rubbing their thumb against the wax seal. They threw the small crown on the desk next to the letter.

A quick walk later, and Roman stood outside the Nag’s Head. They asked the front desk about a Canean representative, and the clerk checked to make sure no one was around before giving them the room number. Roman climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked on the door, apprehensive.

Someone opened it; a short man with round black glasses and a permanently surprised expression. “Are you—are you Roman?” He was dressed in a very formal blue outfit, making Roman feel underdressed. The crest of the Canean royal family was proudly displayed on the uniform’s chest.

“Uh, yeah,” Roman answered, suddenly aware of how awkward they were. “That’s me. I um, got the letter.” They held it up, the blue Canea seal visible.

“Come in, come in. I’m Tyler, nice to meet you.” He offered a surprisingly firm handshake, and let Roman into the room.“So, we can leave as soon as you’d like, although if you need to fill up on anything or get special…“

“I’m fine with just, um, leaving as soon as possible. Is it just you?” Roman asked, glancing around. They really hadn’t thought this through, but Roman was positive that the sooner they left, the better. Tyler’s professionalism reassured them, though. 

“Yeah, just little old me. I mean, I could bring in more people if you want—“

“No, that’s fine. I just thought, you know, Canea is a big country, might be more people. It’s no big deal, though. So, what’s the transportation?”

“We’ve got a boat, and we just have to take the North River a ways before we’re in Canea. It’s about a half-day’s sail, and it’s quite pretty. Have you ever been on the North River before?” Tyler heaved a trunk out from the closet and took a glance around the room, eyes searching for anything out of place. Roman followed his gaze. It was immaculate—which impressed Roman, because Tyler had to have been staying there for at least a few days. “Let’s go.”

“Now? Like, now, now? Aren’t there like…things to do? Do I have to sign something?” Typically, a situation like this would be considered kidnapping if there was no clear sign that Roman had gone willingly. Roman learned that the hard way when they went on a hike with Virgil, Logan, and Patton one day, and they were rudely interrupted by Roman’s personal guard.

“You got your affairs in order, right? It should be fine, I know Straith can be a little more strict concerning royalty, but if any issues arise, Mark can just send a letter.”

With that, they left, and Roman kept their head down as they walked the short distance from the hotel to the river. Guilt was starting to pool in their stomach; it felt wrong to be walking away from everyone like this, just to sate their curiosity. But this was a chance to learn something about their mother, and there were other people who were much more qualified to lead a country within the castle. It would be fine, it would be fine.

Perhaps, they could even ask the king of Canea about how to deal with the problem in the woods. Considering it was magical, and Straith was just starting to get a handle on magic, Canea would probably know more. Roman knew that the citizens of Canea practiced magic more commonly, another reason for Straith to not associate with them in the past. They still didn’t know much about the circumstances of Epos and Madeline’s marriage.

They boarded the boat. It was, thankfully heated, and Roman felt comfortable taking off their cloak and looking out at the winter landscape. Tyler filled most of the conversation, perhaps sensing Roman’s unwillingness to talk. He narrated the cities on the banks of the river as their small, private boat passed the buildings. The beautiful sight helped keep Roman’s mind off of everything they were running away from, and let them ponder what exactly they were running to.

[polygamyff]

35. Part 9

Feeling the sharp pain in my foot as I moved it “uh, ah” looking down at myself with my eyes still feeling ever so heavy, I winced in pain resting my head back. This really hurts me, I sighed out looking to the side of me and my smile grew. Robyn and I just slept like this; she is still holding my hand. This is the cutest thing I have seen in a while, besides my daughter but she really held my hand still, all them hours. This really caught my heart to see, I am not even moving my hand actually, I am keeping it right there. Lifting my head forward a little, she is going to be in pain when she wakes up but she looks like she is sleeping well and looks kind of content, I am sad she don’t have no blanket on or anything when I asked her to have a bed. Resting my head back, I hate this stupid oxygen mask with a passion. Using my free hand and yanked off from me, I don’t like it and I don’t want it on me at all. I will not be moving my hand; I love this so much. I want to marry her, she doesn’t understand this at all, she doesn’t understand how much I can’t wait to call her wife, I mean she is my wife but I want it official. Speaking to Wade he said it would be so much easier for us, in terms of how things will automatically go to her, no fussing or fighting. I will get my divorce, but I want to marry Robyn on her birthday, I say her birthday because then I will always remember it. I also don’t want Robyn to think I am being tight, and that I am not going out of my way to not give her the world but I just want it with minimum fuss and I will do the biggest most lavish party for her, I am not sure what her plan is. She may turn around and say to me she wants a big wedding but I will also take that on, I can make a wedding happen in days, I have the money “oh shit” how can I forget, it’s that stupid event they call Valentine’s Day coming up. I am stuck in this shit ass place; well I can always make Ally run around for me but that will be on my to do list straight away.

I do feel like shit again, I have been awake since and I think I need my medication “it’s me” the nurse finally is here “took your time” I said as she walked in “I did? It’s seven Maurice, I didn’t know you was awake” I am grumpy now “I didn’t know what time it was; I need my medication. The pain, I can feel it” she needs to hurry the fuck up and give me something “Maurice, if you want us to release you. You need to calm down, stress also makes it worse. Talk about it” rolling my eyes groaning out “being here is stressing me out, I have a business to run” she don’t understand “you also have a ulcer on your foot, which can take a month to heal. You will end up back here you know that right?” the nurse started to place her latex gloves on “I can get better you know�� this nurse is side eyeing me and I am doing the same, thinks I will be back here which I won’t be “I will speak to your doctor, he may need to inject you again, he may need to give you it to take home too. Here” she held out my tablets “you going to let her hand go?” looking over at my hand and Robyn’ “mhmm I don’t want to really but I suppose I got not choice” my hand was getting a little sweaty “that is adorable, I must add” I smiled at her “we are adorable” I said in agreement.

I want Robyn to wake up, we need to have breakfast, I can’t eat without her “Robyn” tapping her hand that is hanging over the arm rest “Robyn, Bonita. Mi amor, por qué no te despiertas, te extraño” she is really not waking up, she must be really tired “you know, I kind of understand why you are reluctant in marrying me. I am a soon to be divorced man, an ill man, I mean I got money but I don’t have much to go on do I? but it’s nothing to do with anything, I want to marry you because I trust you, if I was to drop dead I know you would get everything, no hassle at all. But I get why you don’t, imagine being a young lady and then being with a guy that pissing in a bag, shit. I wouldn’t marry me either, it’s not cute. But I shall try again Robyn, see if you do take pity on me. I do love you so much, this old man loves you and I feel like I have aged ten years, I feel old inside. It’s actually easier to speak to you asleep, then you don’t have to give me false ideas about shit. Thank you for coming to my ted talk” I blew out air, I am very bored right now and I do have my phone but I don’t want to speak to anyone, I am not in the mood for it. I just want to be alone; Ally can handle it all she is good like that.

You would think there is so much other shit going on in the world that my name didn’t need to be mentioned, imagine that. Watching Good Morning America innocently and my face pops up, I mean there is other shit happening in the world. It’s just shit, and they use the worst videos of me, the ones where I am leaving the clubs “well we do hope he makes a speedy recovery, because who else is heir to the company?” George said “it was said he is trying to put it under his daughter’ name but Marquis has not fully gave him the company, so it would go to Malik, his younger brother now I don’t know how it would work out, things didn’t look good in Dubai. He has been seen with his wife Naomi Davenport, she has come out and has said she wishes the best for Maurice, hope he gets better when we saw her last night, this is what she had to say” frowning at the TV “do you know about Maurice being in Hospital? What do you have to say?” the guy asked “wish him the best, hope he gets better. He will never change his ways. I tried with him, thank you” she got into the SUV, shaking my head in annoyance “that is what she had to say about the situation, I do hope he gets better and that he brings to light how serious this illness is-“ turning off the TV, I am done with it “my neck, my god!” Robyn groaned out, my eyes widened “you’re awake” I am like an excited child right now, she has taken her time “I think I need a neck brace” Robyn said as she tried to stretch her neck slowly “I can massage it for you?” I offered “it’s ok, you had a good sleep yeah?” nodding my head, like she is even looking at me “I mean yes, I waited on you so we can have breakfast together” least my leg is feeling a little better but I still feel like shit “ok, I will get ready first though, change of clothes and brush my teeth” I grinned at her “I will wait here for you” I mean I am trying to be funny, I can’t go anywhere fast.

I had to take some painkillers for that, my back is a mess “did this come from iHop?” I said trying to not laugh “you ain’t ever going to drop that are you?” shaking my head laughing “I mean I will soon, did you sleep well yeah? When did you wake up?” even though I was in a chair, I slept like a baby because I was really tired “I would reckon I woke up about six, I woke up early and then I got so bored just waiting but I woke up in such a surprise, you was holding my hand still. You didn’t let go, it really made me happy to see that. I love you” I chuckled “it was comfortable, I also wanted you to be comfortable, I know how unsettled you are feeling, and I wanted you to fall asleep, then you did. All I want is for you to get better, and I want to be here to support that. Even if that means hold back on going back to California, as long as you’re ok first. And besides, you left me alone with Channing, I could lust in peace” I giggled “you get wet too?” he questioned, I shrugged “maybe, I am joking with you. But I watched it all and then fell asleep, warmed my heart seeing you sleep though. How are you feeling that they may discharge you today? I hope they do, I can’t do that chair again” I need to go home “good, I guess” raising an eyebrow “I know with patients they tend to get used to this, sense of security. I know their faces when I say they can leave, why don’t you want to go?” Maurice shrugged “I am ok with it” I won’t push him on it, he is clearly feeling a type of way about something, he will speak to me when he feels right.

Pulling a face “when was you feeling pain, in the morning?” I asked, the doctor is injecting him and that is like a step back “yeah, I said to the nurse. So, what you suggest now? You said the new medication was working” the doctor placed his covers over his leg “that I am going to give you a set of injections, remember I only gave you one when you came in. That was it, the tablets you take. I want to discharge you still. Unless you worsen but I don’t see it happening, these injections are very powerful, it took a few days to wear off didn’t it. The thing with these, is that they make you tired, sleepy and it’s not good for the reproductive part. Before you say to me no, this is not a full-time solution, the tablets will work. They take a week to get in the system, this is just temporary fix for it. You need to have the injections until the tablets can fully work, Maurice we need to let the tablets work” Maurice is staring at his doctor like he wants to punch him and then he violently placed his head on the pillow “so you saying my dick don’t work?” he asked “it can affect it, but it’s not permanent” he looks so heartbroken “leave me alone” his little pootie face, like I am sad for him but I don’t want to say anything to him.

Maurice is very upset, I don’t know what to say to him because I may annoy him if I do but then I don’t like to see him like this either “Maurice” turning the chair to him “baby, listen to me. It’s not anything bad, medication can have those affects if he knew it was permanent he wouldn’t have done it but he knows it’s not, everything will go back to normal” I am not worried at all “I am impotant, he did that and he didn’t warn me” pressing my lips into a hard thin line “you’re not impotant Maurice, he did it because he was helping the pain. It’s just for now, it’s not bad Maurice. It will be just for now, then the tablets will fully kick in, I’ve done it before where I have to make the decision because that is my patient and I have to make them feel better” Maurice huffed out “I don’t want to fucking know, just don’t look at me” he moved away from me “I can leave you alone if you want, you will be falling asleep soon anyways. Maurice, I do love you” Maurice shook his head, he is so upset “I will give you space, I will be back” he needs space and I am probably annoying him.

I don’t really have much to do “hey!” I shouted at his doctor, he turned to me “oh hi, is he still upset?” nodding my head “is he getting discharged today?” I need confirmation “he will be” that is great “ok, thanks anyways” walking off, let me call Leon back as he did call me, but I couldn’t exactly call him back as I was with Maurice. Pressing my phone to my ear as I made my way to the cafeteria “Robyn, why didn’t you say? Maurice, is he ok? You out here not telling me shit!” I didn’t tell him, he is right “did mom tell you?” I did assume he would have found out quicker “yes, I just come to the house because you was supposed to be here, we was meeting remember” letting out an oh “yes oh!, but is he ok? I am sorry to hear about him” pressing the elevator button “erm, he is not taking things well, I will be here for a few weeks I would say but he is ok in the sense, he is in safe hands but yeah. He should make a recovery but he can’t walk on his foot so that is a bonus for me, valentines day is going to be dry” Leon cooed out “well his dick ain’t broke” I shouldn’t laugh but I smirked “you right, what are you doing anyways? What male is going to be dicking you down?” he always has somebody “erm! I will be doing the dicking but I do have a man, it’s actually a man that I think is a potential boo, imagine that. Leon being a taken man” I gasped “I would be so happy for you, is he cute?” walking onto the elevator “is his dick big? I mean we need that information, you tried before you buy?” Leon laughed out “oh chile, I did try. He is thick, in every fucking sense sis. Bitch he is cute, I can’t wait for you to meet him” that is serious for Leon “well when I arrive back, that is number one on the list, I need to see him. Send me pictures, of him! Not his dick, you always do that. If Maurice ever sees that, he would kill me. Just him, his face thanks” Leon gives me heart attacks, sending me dick picture of other men.

While he slept, I changed his dress on his foot, got his things laid out. Everything is set, just waiting on him to wake up. Least I know he will be sleeping at home; he seems to want to sleep more but I just want him better and I hate to see him so sad “coming in” the nurse said “oh hey” getting up from the chair “we have got him a wheelchair to get him back, also a stick for him to use when he wants to walk to and from the bathroom” he is not going to be amused, and he is awake “am I going now?” Maurice said opening his eyes looking over at the nurse “yes, that is what we are aiming for now, if you are ready to do that” Maurice nodded his head “I can take it from here, he will be ok”  I said to her, I can get my man out of bed and dress him “that is fine, I will get the discharge papers ready, just call me over” smiling at her as she left, looking down at Maurice. Placing my head over his head “I don’t want you upset ok, nothing upsets me more than you hurting. Listen to me when I say there is nothing to worry about, I have your clothes ready. Get you dressed so we can go. It’s cold outside so luckily, I have a blanket in here too. Get you ready” he looks so deflated, he is not speaking either so he is feeling defeated.

Dressing a grown man is way harder then dressing a child “so I need you to stand up for me, when you ready, pull your sweatpants up. Come, give me your hands. Do not put weight on your bandaged foot” grabbing Maurice’ hands “I won’t” he will be the one in pain “so, ready?” I said, he nodded his head smiling. Pulling back as he got up, balancing on one foot “there we go, just hold my shoulder” Maurice placed his hand on my shoulder, pulling up his sweatpants and then pulling his top down “I do appreciate it, thank you” zipping his jacket up “for what? I can only help you if you tell me. You know what, I am glad you’re not big with muscles, cause I don’t think I could push you, I am glad I got with a skinny man. Comes in handy” zipping his jacket all the way up “so I am good to have around, you tell the driver to the back yeah?” nodding my head “you will get used to hopping around on one leg soon, now you need to just sit in the chair for me” wrapping my arm around his back, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder “be slow now” he hopped towards the chair and then lowered himself onto it “I don’t want to see anybody when I get back” grabbing the blanket from the bed “that is fine” placing it over his legs “it’s cold out there, don’t worry about it. You can just sleep once you get back” placing the hood over his head.

Reaching over to Maurice’ hand, holding his hand “are you ok?” I asked, he is so quiet in the SUV, I mean he is quiet. I can tell he doesn’t wish to speak to anyone “it’s weak, it’s dumb. I hate it. I just need to have some space, I love you. I do but I just feel like my pride has been beaten out of me, humiliated” that is all in his mind “which is not true, baby I love you. It’s not humiliating, stop it. That is me being a wife towards you. This is why I do this for you, I care about you so much. If I know that what he did could harm you I would say, stop it come on” shuffling over to him “don’t cry Maurice, you love to be so prideful, I don’t want that for you. I want you to be happy, healthy too. The cloud will lift and I will be here, this doesn’t put me off you if you think that?”  Maurice wiped his tears quickly “I’m fed up, I just need time. I don’t want to see anybody, including my parents. I am not feeling it, just keep it between us” frowning at him “who am I going to tell? Why would I tell anyone any of this? I am sure that is what you’re used too but that is not me” I just need to give him space, some time to digest everything.

We entered the hotel through the back, nobody saw us at all coming through besides the hotel manager and we just got into the elevator. It was best we did come into the hotel from the back because I didn’t want anybody to see us “am I heavy? To push that is?” Maurice asked “erm not really, it’s ok. But you know you must say hi to your parents” the elevator door opened on the apartment floor “not really, I don’t” pushing him off the elevator “Maurice, my baby boy. You’re out!” Joy rushed over to him so quick “well you tried” I said to him “yes he has come out now, he just needs to rest” Joy rushed over to Maurice, moving away from the chair and stepping to the side “mom, please I just want to go to bed. Please, leave me alone” he really wants to be left alone “aww Reign, you with grandad?” Marquis is holding her like he don’t need a damn walking stick “Robyn please, push me to the room. I just need to sleep” Marquis just looked at Maurice and then walked off, he didn’t even utter a word.

Maurice is out of the way, he is in bed where he wants to be and alone “I have missed you so much! I really did, how was she?” taking Reign from Marquis “she was a delight!” he smiled “you happy to see mommy!?” Reign is here giggling “I am happy to see you, missed you” pressing a kiss to her cheek “she was very good but Marquis doesn’t know rules, he let her sleep when she wanted, which was naughty” I knew that was going to happen, Marquis is not happy Joy said that “is my brother back?” turning around, seeing both Nalah and Shawn “he is out yes but he doesn’t want to see anyone, at all. He is in bed, asleep by now” Nalah huffed out “he refused to see me at the hospital too, why? But is he ok?” Nalah said “erm, getting there” what more can I say, I hate to be the person to refuse people seeing someone but Maurice doesn’t want it.

[gretchensinister]

Here’s the thing. If the MCU had been animated from the word go, and in Endgame they’d decided to make Thor fat, I would be neutral about that character design change. (The fatphobic jokes would still be awful and overall extremely negative storytelling choices.)

But instead the MCU is live action, and the people who had final decision making power made the decision to but Hemsworth in a fat suit. Fat suits should be unacceptable for the following reasons:

They bolster the idea that a fat body is not a real body (you know, permanent, with nerves and sensations)

They reinforce the idea that fatness is something that can be taken off. It’s too late at night for me to fully explain this but the temporary taking on of a characteristic that real people experience bigotry because of, for the sake of entertainment, is in fact bad, and would be bad even in a compassionate story

Also there’s no good way to move forward from the fat suit. Hemsworth wears it in his next appearance as Thor? More metabolically probable for a living being, but as an audience we know very well that it’s a fcuking fat suit and that should be unacceptable. 

Hemsworth doesn’t wear it in his next appearance as Thor? Human metabolism doesn’t work that way, but current culture thinks it should, and anything that reinforces this idea is just another brick of misinformation in an edifice that really ought to be torn down.

Honestly the best solution would probably be to have Hemsworth not wear the fat suit (because fat suits are unacceptable) and do a handwave about Asgardian biology and then never mention anything to do with it again, because the writers haven’t proved they’re able to treat a fat person normally.

(Note: All of you out there who like Thor’s new look (and are horny for it, too, I see you), you’re valid. But sometimes the Doylist decisions are so bad that Watsonian appreciation cannot balance them.)