#opposite beta sally

[sleepymuch]

Here take this unfinished picture of opp beta Sally in the Christmas update

I didn't really finish it because I realized half way I didn't make a opp beta Eddie so I didn't really finish this because of that💀

[cthulhushibainu]

There's so many...

Cthulhu may have a problem...

(deep inhale)

the blob- @yesameh royalty- @neonross yandere- @qep0ermint stage on- @imjade381 ENA- @eechytooru RF- dodozoi Red- licoricecookie1 reboot- @bloodrediscream opposite- henneysilly gray scale- sweetesrosiebee cat- @cloudy-dreams candy land- shishiminty vaquero- charlotterose pirate- @rainbow-neko-artblog mafia- @brightkillerx3 unhinged- @dumblittlejay evil- krunch

hopefully thy got them all, if not thy be so mad

[glitch-pep]

Let's get into the process of Sunny's creation! I seperated it into two parts under the cut. ❤️

Final version of the design:

Concept art:

Old versions of these two drawings:

#1

Ok, so, the story behind Sunny's creation is actually an interesting one.

Basically, some time last year I had the idea to create an Opposite AU for my oc's, which would have essentially been an au where all of my oc's would be the complete opposite of who they are.

I gave up on the idea of it, because I realized how much of a spoiler it would be for some of the oc's stories if I turned everything on its head.

Molly Moon, was turned into Sunny Sunrise. Thing is, this version of Sunny was very different from the one we have now. I actually saved the description I wrote down, please note that some of this stuff is NOT CANON anymore. Here:

[I'll keep it short, the whole unused character thing still stands, but, instead of it being aired before nightime it was supposed to be aired in the morning. Sunny's segment, named: "Way to start the day" was entirerly focused on her favorite thing: the world finally waking up! In the segment she would mostly teach children about the importance of a healthy breakfast and not oversleeping every day. She would also do some simple morning exercises. Personality wise, Sunny is harsh with her words and loud with them at that. Overly confident with a massive ego, she thinks she's the most important person in the room at all times. And she's not even slightly suddle with anything. No matter how mean her opinion is, you will hear it, and she'll think you're blessed to hear it from her. Even though she has a sharp memory, she purposefully doesn't bother to remember things that she thinks are unimportant. Her main gag would be that she's so loud at times that the intensity of the sound can break anything around her. She's fast on her feet and with her actions, and always has in mind exactly what she wants. Her main room would be "The Bathroom" which has a comically large mirror so that she can see herself in full glory no matter where she's walking in the room. "The Kitchen" would be the second room. Catchphrase: "Rise and shine! It's time for breakfast, and you get to feast upon your favorite eye-candy, me!~"]

After I scraped this au idea, I kinda just forgot about Sunny. A while later I was working on Molly's lore, during which I created a character whose concept I still find interesting.

Her name was Sammy Starshine, a parody of Sally Starlet. Yes, an actual parody character which the canon would've been aware of, this character was basically a big ongoing gag. She was based on this beta version of Sally, but her head was some sorta different star instead:

Personality wise she was actually kinda mean and overly bossy, with Molly being the only one who could really stand her, because Sammy was only nice to her. The whole trying to ruin Sally's life concept was actually a thing at this point too. I had a very specific plot for her story in mind, and I like it a lot so I won't talk about it, because I wanna reuse it somewhere else. Sammy influenced the overall story A LOT, even though she's not a thing anymore.

A while later I realized that I wanna do this character differently, and then the Sunny Sunrise we know today was slowly created, after I decided to reuse the Molly Opposite AU concept, but give her a far nicer personality.

And that's about it, I'm glad that I figured it out.

#2

I thought of Sunny a long time before I started to work on her, and the original design idea I had for her did not end up making the final cut.

She was always gonna have a sun head, and eyes that were basically Molly's eyes upside down and more roundish, with spiky eyelashes that bend upwards, unlike Molly's which are round and bend downwards. Also, her nose being that shape is supposed to kinda resemble a sun dial.

For her head colors it was basically "Like Sally but different shades." I was slightly afraid that her and Sally would look too similar, but I'm glad that they don't.

The outfit is what gave me the most trouble.

Originally she was gonna have a rainbow scarf with clouds at the ends, but I couldn't do that because of her head situation. I still like the scarf design idea, I might reuse it somewhere else.

Also, she was gonna have an off the shoulder top instead instead of a sweater, and a skirt. Those two clothing items were originally pink, but I ended up changing it because I realized that it made no sense, given the fact that Molly is primarily blue, which meant that I needed to make Sunny also blue if I wanted a two of them to fit together.

Unlike Molly she is light blue while Molly is dark blue, which is an obvious reference to the clear blue sky and then the night sky. Also in the same way that Molly has different shades of dark blue Sunny also has different shades of light blue. Like Molly, Sunny also has a cloud motif.

Since Molly has the sheep on her pajamas I wanted to give Sunny a bird somewhere in her design to parallel Molly but thing is I couldn't for the life of me figure out where to put it. Since I couldn't fit it into the character design I instead put it onto her house. I also put a bird somewhere else, but I'll show you that some other time. (I'll talk about the lore connected to the birds in a different post.)

I went for shorts instead of a skirt because I had no character that wore shorts in their main outfit and I wanted to mix it up, and also I thought that shorts were far more sporty than skirts.

The bow was a random addition that I fell in love with as well as the beauty mark. I gave the bow the little ribbons on the side cuz it gives me ninja vibes.

She was always supposed to be carrying a rainbow bag around but it looked bad and the heart bag version of it was too difficult to draw so I just decided to get rid of it.

The shoes gave me a lot of trouble because originally she wore boots with big white leg warmers which were supposed to go together with the clouds on her sweater. And they did but I didn't like that design and I couldn't figure out what to do with it.

Eventually I decided to change the boots into sneakers and give her rainbow socks. I still didn't like it because there was too much blue in the design.

Then I changed the shoe colors to be blue and black, and that's where it clicked. I made the shoes completely mismatch, with a rainbow sock on one leg and the leg warmer on the other.

I knew that I had to put a rainbow somewhere but I was struggling to figure out where, the sock was a good solution for this.

Unlike Molly who is completely covered, Sunny has both her shoulders and legs exposed, to show that she's more open and extroverted than Molly.

The fingerless gloves were an idea that I've had since the beginning, I was debating on what type of gloves it should be but I just went for the regular type at the end.

I did have the idea of giving her fake fangs and that she wears them cuz she's convinced that it makes her look more evil and scary, but I scraped that idea cuz she ended up looking too silly with them.

At one point I tried to completely change the outfit to make her wear an over the shoulder cloud jacket instead, which wasn't a bad idea in concept but I butchered it in execution so bad that I just scraped it. I might reuse this idea one day.

And, that's about it. She's honestly one of my favorite character designs I've made so far!

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 13 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Simon

"I'm sorry. I can't go back there, Sally. The pack... the pack doesn't like me. It would be impossible for me to join."

She looked disappointed and it took a lot out of me to not blurt the entire truth in order for her to understand.

I wanted her to understand but this was her home and realistically it was unfair to make these crazy claims to a child when it's all she's known.

Sally didn't say anything but instead looked back at her home, observing the betas that were starting to gather near the RCPP, a telltale sign that they were either going for a hunting or training session.

I didn't want to rush her but I didn't want to be this close to them when they started.

For the most part, they were ruthless, attacked on a whim and if you make even the slightest indication that you'll hinder them, they'll make sure to let you know.

I knew a lot of rogues, including myself, that had way too many close calls and wounds to prove it.

Sally perked up next to me, as she stared at the group of New Moon betas.

"There. I see my dad."

I poked my head through the shrub, spotting about fifteen pack members talking or stretching, some in wolf form, others in their human forms.

None of them really stood out to me, until I saw three of them leaving the RCPP and headed toward the group.

There in the flesh was my mate, Alpha Vince, flanked by his younger brother, Xavier and his right-hand man, Lucas.

I could feel my body shaking at the mere sight of them, especially with having seen Vince in so long.

Despite ten years since the rejection, the bond made every fiber of my being want to move toward him like a magnet, yet the memories and pain of it all had me frozen in place.

Like the last time I had seen him, he looked unfazed, healthy, and even stronger than before. Yet when I look in the mirror, it was the complete opposite.

Looking over at Xavier and Lucas made me think about the time they had dropped by before I found Sally.

Xavier had once been my friend before I left and the way he had opened up and apologized led me to believe that maybe he didn't see me as the traitor Vince made me out to be.

Lucas, on the other hand, was still as terrifying even in human form.

Like Xavier and Vince, he carried himself so tall and authoritative, as one of the top Betas, he had to be.

"Simon, see," she nudged me.

"There he is, with the black and red shirt."

I scanned the crowd, only to realize, to my dismay, she was pointing at the second most terrifying person of them all, Lucas.

Not wishing it to be true, I clarified with her, only for the fear to spike up.

Of course, the sweetest, most well-mannered pup is the daughter of the scariest wolf aside from Vince.

The wolf that took part in murdering my family.

I wanted to vomit and to think she now has my scent on her from being cuddled up in the cave was terrifying.

It was best I sprint out of here before they can track me down.

I didn't even want to think of what he'd do if he caught me.

I gulped, before clearing my throat.

"It's time to go home, Sally. This is as far as I'll go."

She looked at me with sad eyes, before replying,.

"I wish you'd come with me."

"I can't join you, Sally. I'm sorry."

"I'll miss you, Simon. I hope you find a pack of your own," she said.

"Even if it's not this one. Thanks for everything."

She hesitated for a moment, just staring at me with the same sincerity as Monica did, before walking out of the safety of the brush and toward the clearing dividing the pack and rogue territory.

I watched selfishly as the pack members took notice of her and approached her.

The way Lucas had scooped her up in his arms as if she was the most precious thing in the world left a bittersweet feeling in my chest.

Despite knowing I needed to get out of here as soon as possible, I took a long last look at Vince.

He seemed happy, watching Lucas and Sally reunite and despite wishing to despise him and hate him after all these years, the warm feeling from the bond was starting to grow and I wanted to soak up every second of watching him from the shrub line.

Even if it was all in vain, just seeing him gave me the same butterflies when I had seen him for the first time as a mate and not just the son of the Alpha.

The bond was a strange thing.

Despite being utterly horrified to go physically near him, my wolf and everything in me told me that he was still my mate.

Despite all the pain, nightmares and anxiety he's caused, there would always be a part of me that asks the what if.

That maybe things will change and through all the sadness and depression I've faced, I wanted nothing more to know that he was happy.

That all this suffering, albeit unjust or uncalled for, at least meant for him to be happy.

Of course, during those incidents where I mentally and physically breakdown, all I want is for him to suffer the same pain I have when I see him cheat on his chosen mate, Sarah but it'd always come down to the bond wanting to see him happy.

The bond was a terrifying thing but in a way, there was something so sanguine and innately hopeful about it, that made me crave it.

When I regained my senses, I realized subconsciously, I had been inching out into their sightline, away from the safety of the dense foliage and nearly in plain sight.

I scanned over, breathing a sigh of relief when I realized no one had seemed to notice, so I stepped backwards before turning to sprint off.

It seemed unlikely anyone would sprint after me as they all seemed intrigued and happy about Sally's return but I didn't want to take any risks, especially with Vince nearby.

As I slowed to a trot, I wondered why I hadn't seen Sarah alongside him.

Every time I had seen them in my nightmares and bond visions, as I liked to call them, they were practically glued together.

Aside from Vince's sex-crazed rendezvous' where he'd sleep with some stranger at a motel, Sarah rarely left his side.

[sofia-not-sophie]

Chapter 22: I experience the opposite of existnential dread

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/E, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi Fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Paul Blofis/Sally Jackson/Poseidon, Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Female Character Characters: Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Sally Jackson (Percy Jackson), Paul Blofis, Poseidon (Percy Jackson), Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Grover Underwood, Hazel Levesque, Piper McLean, Jason Grace, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano Additional Tags: Deity Percy Jackson, High School, Percabeth senior year, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Fluff, Post-Tartarus (Percy Jackson), Getting Back Together, Goode High School (Percy Jackson), Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Percy has mortal friends, The missed him a lot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, most of the tws will be ones from canon, If there's anything particularly bad I will TW the A/N, Latino Percy Jackson, no beta we die like jason grace, Wakes & Funerals Language: English Series: Words: 48,377 Chapters: 22/?

[christinesficrecs]

Hi Chris, I got laid off today because of Corona Virus, probably most likely temporary but still scary and frustrating. I was just wondering if you could recommend some good accidental baby acquisition fics? Or where the pack are turned into babies except Derek and stiles? Thank you ❤️ much love to you for all the hard work you put into this blog and finding fics I wouldn’t know what to do without you sometimes ❤️❤️❤️

Oh man, that’s terrible. 🙁Hopefully this will get better sooner instead of later! The rumors of us going on lock down are getting a little more insistent so I’m grabbing stuff from work just in case! Stay safe! ❤️

Anyways, onto happier things. I love magical babies!!! 💜

Special Delivery (subway edition) by Fiannly | 7.6K

“You’re what?” Stiles yells.

Derek jerks the phone away from his ear and waits a few beats before putting it back. “I’m adopting the baby I found on the subway last month,” he repeats.

Lord knows it would be the first time by uraneia | 12.2K | Explicit

Stiles is home from Berkeley for the summer, but only because he promised the pack. He’d rather not see Derek, because whatever the thing was that they were doing, they’re not doing it anymore, and it sucks.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a choice. The betas tried a magical remedy for Derek’s melancholy, and now Stiles has a three-year-old who looks like Derek. Stiles doesn’t know how to deal with that, and he definitely doesn’t know how to tell the betas he and Derek were secret fuck buddies for a year and a half.

You And Me (Baby Makes Three) by clotpolesonly | 5.4K

Pulling out his phone, Stiles said, “I’m sure dad’ll be thrilled to be woken up at two in the morning for an off the books amber alert, but he’ll suck it up.”

He’d only taken a few steps away before Derek said his name. Stiles turned back to see one of those little grabbing hands reaching out for him. Her eyes were brown, apparently, when they weren’t glowing, and they were wide and wet and looking up at him beseechingly from Derek’s arms, and Stiles couldn’t walk away from that.

“Oh, jeez.”

He was so screwed.

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter | 51.9K | Mature

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.

It looks exactly like him.

Well, this is awkward.

When You Wish Upon a Nymph by KaliopeShipsIt | 19K

Sheriff Stilinski rescues a nymph who wants to grant him a wish in exchange.

John accidentally wishes for a grandchild and chaos ensues.

Everything With You by ElStark | 9.2K | Explicit

“What’s going on?” Derek asked.

Scott shook his head, “You need to see.”

“Would you stop with the fucking mystery and just tell us already?” Stiles snapped at him.

“We found a baby,” Scott relented, starting to half jog towards the opposite line of trees they had been standing in front of.

What to expect when you aren’t expecting by MemeKon | 16.9K

The baby is warm and small and she’s all wrinkled and frowny, bow lips somewhat pursed and pouty. Stiles’ palms feel cold and sweaty against the blanket enfolding her as he holds her tight to his chest.

“What do you mean she turned up out of nowhere?” Derek asks, frowning at him, hand twitching above the baby’s head, as if he wasn’t sure touching her wouldn’t make her disintegrate into nothingness. Stiles rolls his eyes at him and bounces on the balls of his feet when the baby squirms.

Once Again, In a Little While by adeepeningdig | 4.1K 

Parrish is holding the infant like a fullback carrying the football, tight and close to his body, as if he’s afraid someone’s going to strip it away from him at any moment.

“Sir,” he whispers, “this baby is running hot.”

“So call the paramedics, get Sally on the line. For heaven’s sake, Parrish, this baby needs a hospital, not the sheriff” The baby is hot to the touch but his pale eyes, when they blink open, are clear and he’s not flushed like a feverish infant would be.

“No,” Parrish hisses, “I mean this baby is running hot. I don’t think he’s human.”

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin | 43.6K | Mature

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Peter Parker and Bruce Banner’s Guide on How To Make Iron Man Sleep

For @sallyidss. Happy Birthday, Sally! This is about 1% hurt and 99% comfort, or in other words, pure fluff and chicken soup. I hope you enjoy it and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading and to @maikkuax for the video game reference.

____________________

Peter wakes up to a dazzling amount of texts on Saturday morning. 

One is from Tony, sent at 3am, telling him that Bruce is sick and might not be able to help Peter with his biology project today as they had planned, but he is still welcome to drop by the tower.

Then there’s another one from Tony three hours later asking him whether he could pick up some soup while on the way; one from Bruce at 8am, telling him that Tony is sick too, but ‘he won’t admit it so just try to somehow get him to rest once you come over’; and then one more from Tony telling him to ignore whatever Bruce just told him.

Peter grins to himself while reading the texts - he can almost hear his favourite superhero couple bantering and fussing over each other. Then he gets up for breakfast with May and a shower before heading down to the corner grocery store. He gets soup (chicken for Tony and vegetable for Bruce), as well as some of the Fairtrade chocolate bars that Bruce buys for ideological reasons and Tony eats en masse because he’s got a secret sweet tooth. Peter stuffs the groceries into his school bag along with his laptop and makes his way to the tower. 

*

Tony definitely looks under the weather when he opens the door; pale and with a very clown-like red nose that is dripping constantly. 

“Hey kid, thanks for the delivery,” he jokes with a raspy voice. He takes the bag and mimics shutting the door in Peter’s face before smirking and opening it fully to let his unamused mentee in. 

“Very funny, Mr. Stark.” Peter removes his shoes and jacket and then stops, frowning. Through the hallway, he can see that the bed in the master bedroom has been demolished into what looks like a heap of firewood. “Uhm, what happened to your bed?”

“Well…” Tony interrupts himself to cough harshly into his elbow. “So, uh, we had a bit of an exciting night. Not in the fun way, unfortunately…” he trails off. “Anyway, Bruce went back to sleep after breakfast, but I thought we could head to the lab and start working on the chameleon fabric you suggested for your suit.” 

Peter is sure that working in the lab is the opposite of what Tony should be doing just now - his mentor looks even more tired than usual and the slightly glassy quality to his eyes suggests that he is running a fever - but Peter also knows that saying this out loud will only be counterproductive. 

“What if we watch a movie instead?” he suggests.

“I’m not watching a movie at eleven in the morning,” Tony protests. “We have the whole day in front of us - time to build, invent, change the world..." He flaps his hand. "All that jazz."

“Okay, okay…” Peter thinks for a second before an idea hits him. “But before we start with the suit, I do need your help with something else.”

“Now what?”

“So, Ned and I have this gaming commentary channel on YouTube where we livestream playing “The Witcher 3”? And it’s going pretty well, but Ned says he needs help developing his stage persona, you know, talking in a way that is interesting and keeps your audience engaged? So, he thought that you might give us some advice because you’ve got a ton of experience with speaking in public and all that?”

(It’s not entirely a lie - Ned and Peter have joked about getting Tony involved in order to increase their viewership, but he is pretty sure that Ned would be mortified upon hearing that Peter actually suggested it to the billionaire.)

“Wait, you and Ned are making videos of you killing virtual trolls while talking about it? And people actually watch that?”

“That’s...another way of putting it.”

“Sounds like a gigantic waste of time.” Tony scrunches up his nose. “Either I play the game myself, or I spend my downtime watching something interesting.” 

“Hey! Our last one has more than 3000 hits!” Peter defends.

“People have too much free time. Including you.” Tony points his finger at Peter before quickly covering his mouth to contain a sneeze. “But I suppose I can take a look if you really want me to…”

Peter grins. Stage one: complete.

They settle on the couch in the living room. Tony can’t suppress a small sigh when he leans against the cushions. He massages the bridge of his nose in a way that makes it clear to Peter he must be nursing a headache. 

“Hit me, kid,” he orders.

“Okay, but before we start, you need to know a few things...” Peter launches into a long-winded explanation of the game’s storyline with more than a few unnecessary details of the characters’ backgrounds. He pretends to concentrate on the screen where he walks Tony through different tutorials, but out of the corner of his eye he sees his mentor slowly sinking deeper and deeper into couch.

“...and then they bring Uma to the witcher school of Kaer Morhen,” Peter goes on as Tony tiredly attempts to follow along, his blinks growing longer and longer each time, “where Yennefer removes his curse and transforms him into Avallac'h...” 

When Peter can’t think of anything else to babble about, he starts playing their most recent video. Tony sits up a little straighter and rubs a hand over his face to concentrate. But at about the two minute mark, he stops the screen with a wave of his hand.

“So, not to be rude, but that was kind of painful, Tony declares. “You guys literally started with a 45 second explanation of why you prefer the old controller design to the new one. No wonder you’re putting people to sleep.”

Peter frowns a bit. “I mean, we weren’t that bad…” he defends. “And the new ones do kind of suck.”

“Sure, kid,” Tony huffs. He shifts position on the sofa with a sigh. “Alright, listen. It’s obvious that you two are knowledgeable about this game, but if you want to engage your audience, you’ve gotta try to establish your credentials in a way that’s still interesting and relatable. For instance, I once started a TED Talk by describing how I hacked NASA during an MIT frat party so that I could send a rocket to draw a dick over San Francisco. ”

Peter snorts at that admission. 

“See? Exactly,” Tony points out. “That’s the kind of reaction you want your audience to have - that’s called a hook, kid.” 

The longer they watch, the more Tony seems to be melting into the couch. His comments become less and less frequent, and at some point he leans his head back against the pillow, barely looking at the screen anymore. By the third video, Peter can see his mentor’s eyelids fluttering shut. 

He waits for a few minutes and then pauses the screen, just to see Tony’s eyes fly open again. “I’m listening!” he assures. 

“Yeah, I know.” Peter hides a smirk. “Just, uhm, relax a bit.”

“I see what you’re trying to do here, kid. I’m not stupid,” Tony protests nasally, stifling another sneeze, but he doesn’t make any move to get up from the couch. 

Peter starts the video again, knowing that the battle has been won. Five minutes later, Tony is asleep. 

Peter watches a few more videos on his own (now that he pays attention, he realises that most of Tony’s suggestions, despite being sarcastic, are actually in line with what the popular streamers do) before FRIDAY informs him that Bruce has woken up. 

He finds the scientist in the kitchen, making tea. 

“Hey Dr. Banner,” Peter greets. “How are you?”

“Hey Peter.” Bruce gives him a warm and slightly sleepy smile. His voice is a bit hoarse. “I’m fine. Is Tony asleep?”

“Yep,” Peter declares proudly. “Used my hypnotically soothing voice. And obscure video game lore."

Bruce heaves out a sigh. “Finally, thank god. I had, uhm… kind of an incident last night and I don’t think he slept at all after that.” 

Peter thinks back to the broken bed frame and chooses not to comment.

“Do you want some tea?” Bruce asks.

“No, thanks. I’m okay.”

Bruce takes out a box of cookies instead and hands a few to Peter. “So, what was this thing you wanted me to look at with you?”

“Oh, it’s just a bio project,” Peter says with a shrug. “But we can do it some other time, when you’re feeling better.”

“I’m okay...” Peter gives him a suspicious look and Bruce’s smile deepens. “No need for that - I’m not Tony, I would tell you if I wasn’t up for it. But I am actually feeling much better after sleeping and I wouldn’t mind some distraction.”

“Okay, well then...”

Peter likes Bruce a lot. It took him a while to get close to him because Bruce is not a person who easily lets people in, but now whenever Peter visits the tower, he looks forward to seeing the scientist almost as much as he does to seeing Tony. 

Tony is brilliant, energetic, and funny, and he constantly encourages Peter to think deeper, work harder, do better - to improve himself. Which is a fun challenge, but it can also be quite exhausting at times. Working with Bruce is the exact opposite. He makes Peter feel calm, slows him down when he overthinks, and makes it clear that mistakes are something that happen to everyone and nothing Peter should be too concerned about. While spending time with Tony is the equivalent of a rollercoaster ride, being with Bruce feels more like a calm day at the beach, and Peter has realised that he needs both from time to time. 

They move to Bruce’s study (since Bruce doesn’t allow food in his lab and they don’t actually need to do any experiments for Peter’s project) with Peter’s laptop, biscuits, and several bars of Fairtrade chocolate. 

*

Tony wakes up with the blurry images of a nightmare still on the rims of his consciousness. He feels cold, achy, and slightly out of breath. It takes him a few disoriented moments to realise that his face is mostly buried into a couch pillow, blocking his mouth and nose. He frees himself and sits up stiffly, wiping at his slightly damp cheeks. His nose is dripping annoyingly and he isn’t sure whether that’s only because of the cold. 

“FRIDAY?” he prompts nasally. 

“It is 1:17pm on Saturday afternoon. Dr. Banner and Mr. Parker are working in the study room. Everyone is safe and well, boss.” 

“Okay. Thanks, FRI.” Tony takes another few moments to ground himself before getting up from the sofa, rather unsteadily. His body seems to have tripled in weight and his head feels like an overfilled balloon that’s ready to burst. He kind of wants to fall back onto the couch and go to sleep again, but at the same time he definitely doesn’t want to revisit the dreams he just had. 

Instead, he ventures into the study where he finds his partner, who is sporting an adorable bedhead, together with his mentee enthusiastically modelling a DNA strand on a laptop screen.

“Coffee?” Tony asks hoarsely.

“Good afternoon to you too, Tony,” Bruce smirks and nods towards a pot sitting on the table. Tony pours himself a mug and downs it in one go, marvelling at how much better it makes his throat feel immediately. 

Feeling slightly more human and ready to deal with the actual world, he leans over Bruce’s shoulder and nuzzles his head against his partner’s ear. “How you feeling, green bean?”

“I’m much better. Sleeping helped a lot, actually.” Tony gives him a critical once-over and seems to accept that. “Peter is doing an impressive job with his project, by the way,” Bruce adds.

Peter blushes at the compliment. “It’s not me - Dr. Banner is helping me a lot!” 

“I’m really just sitting here and watching you work,” Bruce dismisses before addressing Tony again. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m”—Tony’s voice breaks in the middle of the sentence and he has to clear his throat before continuing—“I’m good.”

“Mm-hmm.” Bruce raises an eyebrow. “FRIDAY, what’s his temperature at?”

“100.2 degrees, Dr. Banner.”

“Thanks.” He turns to Tony, who is coughing again. There seems to be a brick stuck inside his chest and it feels like he can’t take a full breath at all. Bruce gives him a concerned look. “This sounds painful.”

“‘S okay,” Tony dismisses.

“Maybe you should try using the inhaler -”

“Stop mother-henning, Bruce,” he grumbles with a glance at Peter, who is very clearly trying to act as if he isn’t listening to every word, but the pain in Tony’s chest is suddenly replaced by a surge of warmth upon realising Bruce’s worry about him. The scientist seems to understand and just squeezes Tony’s hand before turning back to the screen.

Tony pours himself another cup of coffee and grabs a slice of toast as well as two of the chocolate bars before settling into the chair across from the two of them, munching away and watching them work. Seeing them together leaves him with an annoyingly sappy feeling. Bruce, usually rather shy, is much more self-confident around the kid and visibly happy about Peter’s genuine interest in everything scientific. He is also a much more patient teacher than Tony ever manages to be, which seems to be putting Peter at ease. 

After finishing his food, Tony debates moving to his own lab to get some actual work done, but he is so, so tired, and everything kind of hurts. Standing up seems like a lot of effort. So instead, he crosses his arms on the table and rests his head on top of them, closing his eyes for just a moment.

He listens to Peter and Bruce when their conversation shifts from Peter’s project, to May’s new vegan disaster recipe, to the idea of using Peter’s webs in order to create a hammock that can hold the Hulk. Tony smiles into his sleeves, imagining Hulk chilling at the beach between two palm trees, swinging to and fro, to and fro, to and...

“Hey.” Bruce rests his palms lightly on Tony’s shoulder.

He jerks upright. “Wasn’t asleep.”

“What, I would never think that,” Bruce says with a smirk. 

Tony rubs his tired eyes and then his aching forehead. “Where’s Peter?”

“He went to heat up the soup for all of us.”

“Hmm.” Tony grabs Bruce’s hands and presses them against his overly warm cheeks, enjoying the cooling feeling they provide.

“Did you have a nightmare earlier?” Bruce asks, his hand now moving up to cup Tony’s forehead. “You seemed kind of out of it.”

“Yeah,” Tony admits, leaning into the touch. “I don’t remember what it was about, though.”

Bruce hums and presses a light kiss to the top of Tony’s head. “Fever dreams are awful. But at least you didn’t break any furniture upon waking up.”

Tony, sensing the guilt below the light tone, only huffs. “I’d been wanting to get a new bed anyway for a while now. Did you know there are self-making ones now? And levitating mattresses? Or we could go for one of those free-swinging beds, to match Hulk’s upcoming hammock.” 

Bruce smiles and shakes his head. “A normal one would do, Tony. Or we could try something different. Did you know that sleeping on the ground is actually quite good for your back?”

Tony snorts. “Yeah, no. I’m a billionaire, Brucie, we’re not sleeping on the ground because our bed is broken. Levitating one it is.”

Peter comes back with the steaming soup, which does wonders for Tony��s raw throat. At Bruce’s advice, he takes some Advil that muffles his headache a little and remembers the times a few years ago when he would be sick with only JARVIS as his company, feeling a little chilled and very lucky. 

*

In the end, Tony does agree to watching TV, but mostly because Bruce admits to still not feeling up for anything more demanding (which Peter suspects is not entirely true, but he definitely won’t call him out). They let Peter pick, who of course goes for the newest Orville episode, and settle on the huge living room couch with a steaming mug of tea (Bruce), a packet of chocolate (Tony) and another helping of soup (Peter). 

Peter notices after a while that Bruce is gently massaging Tony’s head, playing with his hair. Tony seems to be sort of melting into the touch, his head leaning against Bruce’s shoulder, eyes almost closed. He looks old, but not frighteningly so - more in a serene way that makes Peter want to capture the moment on film. 

In the years he’s known him, Peter has rarely seen Tony anything but buzzing with energy, jumping to and fro between ideas and lab tables. The only person who is able to slow him down and occasionally get him to take a break without having to outright trick him into it seems to be Bruce. And as sorry as Peter is to see both of them sick, it’s also heartwarming to observe how they are taking care of each other. 

Peter knows that most people his age find the idea of spending a lazy movie Saturday with their family kind of boring, but something in him loves the idea of settling down like this. Maybe it’s the fact that it reminds him of how it used to be with Ben and May, or that the time he spends as Spider-Man is already adventurous enough, or the sheer thrill of seeing Iron Man and the Hulk’s alter ego in their pyjamas on the couch, nuzzled up against each other. 

But whatever it is, there’s nowhere else Peter would rather be.

____________________

If you liked this, make sure to check out @twentyghosts‘ beautiful fic Cold, Comfort with a similar setting that inspired me to write this one.

All my fics

Taglist: @toomuchtoread33  @yepokokfine

@badthingshappenbingo This is my fill for the ‘Common Cold’ square.

[wntrsnat]

My last eight letters | 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

(gif is not mine)

(sorry for reposting & editing so many times, I had problems with previous gif)

- Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x reader

- Summary: Eight letters which you wrote to Bucky after his death.

- Warnings: (kind of) angst, major character death, mentions of suicide, hint on overdose with unknown/unspecified pills,hint on death, possibility of mental problems, constant rejection of help and therapist, the text was not beta-read, so sorry for grammar mistakes. Please remember - always seek for help when you are feeling down, never think that no one will understand you, be careful with pills & any kind of medicine, suicide is NOT right way to solve problem, go to therapist if you feel down/have symptoms of depression/need to vent/etc, it is okay and normal. Please take care of yourself and your mental health, and remember that you are amazing and strong.

- Word count: 1.7k

- A/n: A (late) entry for @waiting4inspiration‘s 2k follower writing challenge. I thought long about what to write. I had lots of ideas for my prompt (it will be in bold+italic). I started and eventually dumped around 3 or 4 normal fanfics before I settled down for this, quite unusual format. Let me know what do you think about it.

A week after Bucky’s death, 1944.

Sally suggested to me to start writing letters to you as the way to cope with sadness and grief, to imagine writing them to you. She says it helped her to deal with the dark thoughts after her grandmother’s death. I know, it is so stupid, so silly and useless, but I don’t have another way other than this.

My parents will never understand me. They won’t even try. You know them, they’d rather send me to hospital than talk with me, and I don’t want to hospital, I don’t need a doctor, I don’t need a therapist, they will do nothing but fill me up with dozens of pills, to trick my mind and body into thinking that everything is fine.

Steve… I would talk to him, trust me, I would, but he has too much on his shoulders alone. He blames himself for your death, he silently griefs, and it is obvious that your death and his participation in it hit him hard and deeply even though he tries to stay strong for people and America.

I miss you. I miss you more and more every goddamn day. You’re dead and I can’t accept it. Deep down, there is part of me who feels like you’re on another mission, who feels like you can step into our apartment anytime, calling out my name and then spinning me in the air with your hands tightly wrapped around my body.

I miss your touch so much, I want to hear your voice so much, I need you much…

A week and three days after Bucky’s death, 1944

Even in the worst nightmares, I never saw myself standing in the black dress, watching how people bury an empty coffin in the ground, an empty coffin in which you were supposed to lay, but here we are. As you could understand, today I was at your funeral.

I never thought I'd lose you, I thought we would spend eternity together, buy a small house in a small neighborhood near Brooklyn and live a peaceful, loving life as you wanted.

But no, the universe had other plans.

I keep thinking about how unfair it is. I should be dead, not you. You deserved to be alive more than me. You deserved a happy, normal life without war, you deserved everything best and I am sorry I could not give it to you.

I’m sorry I did not become your wife, I’m sorry I did not have your kids, I’m sorry we did not live peacefully, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything I did not do.

I love you so much. I don't know what to do without you. I don't see the point of my life anymore. I lost a piece of myself when I lost you. I would give anything only to feel your touch even for a few seconds.

Two weeks after Bucky’s death, 1944.

I spent nights beside your grave, looking on the stone with your name, letting my tears sink into the dirt which covers an empty coffin, the coffin where you were supposed to lay, but instead, your body is lost somewhere in mountains, covered in a snow and ice, where no one can find you.

I kept going back to when I closed the door after you left for a mission, assuring me that you’ll be safe, that it is okay and fine, that you’ll return home soon. Only if I knew what was about to happen… I would scream, yell, cry and do anything only to stop you. It is my fault. I should not have let you go.

Please come back to me, don’t do this to me, don’t leave me.

Two weeks and five days after Bucky’s death, 1944

My friends said I need to go out, I need to let the sun see me again, I need to start normally eating again, I need to slowly continue life, but I can’t, I don’t want to.

I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to drink, I don’t want to go out, I don’t want to put a fake smile on my face, I don’t want to do anything.

I don’t feel anything, but emptiness.

I am a mess, I am a living corpse, a ghost, a girl who died but is forced to stay among people.

I don’t let anyone in. I don’t go out either. I don’t see a point in this. All they will do is tell me to put a smile on my face and start trying to move on.

I don’t want to move on. Not now and not forever. I can’t erase what we had. I can’t forget those three years with you. I don’t want to feel another man’s hands around me, I don’t want to feel another man’s lips on mine, I don’t want to hear another man whispering sweet nothings to me, I don’t want anything from another man, I only want you

Bucky, I don’t know what to do. I’m lost.

Three weeks after Bucky’s death, 1944

Our bed felt so empty and cold. I can’t remember the last time I slept full eight hours, the last time I did not wake up from nightmares and dreams, last time I did not pass out without tears streaming down my face.

I can’t sleep. Every time I fall asleep I see you. You may think that the nightmares where you die are the worst, but no, the worst dreams are happy ones.

They are nice and warm, there you are with me, there I can hear your voice, get lost in your beautiful eyes filled with love, feel your lips, and be happy. Only waking up makes them the worst. Feeling how I lose everything again is the worst.

I wish they would last forever. I wish those dreams could last forever.

I want to be asleep the whole day and keep dreaming again and again, but you never know when you'll have a nightmare, and I don't want to risk. A few dreams where you died in my hands where enough to break me. I'm not ready to see them again and I will never be.

Three weeks and three days after Bucky’s death, 1944

Head hurts, body aches, throat is dry, the stomach is empty, my heart is broken and the soul is dead.

I have lost the point of my existence.

I have no one.

I have nothing.

I am alone among millions of people.

Thousands would be there for me, but I want only one.

And that is you.

But you are dead.

You disappeared.

You are gone.

You left me.

I should be with you, but I’m not.

Instead, I am here writing this letter in the middle of the night, pretending that this would help.

I am writing this as you'll see it, but I know that you will not.

I am lying to myself.

I want to be with you but I can’t

I want to kill myself but I can’t. I should think about others, about friends and family, I can’t do this to them. I should stay alive for them even though life is torture for me.

I look at that knife beside me, but I tell myself – no, you should live for your family, for your friends.

I wonder what you would say if you knew about my state.

Probably, you'd be mad. You'd start yelling, reading me a lecture in rage, as you always did when I put myself in danger.

You hated when I did this when I put myself in danger

It drove you mad; it drove you crazy.

I know it is wrong.

I know I should not be thinking about it but I can’t help it.

I know you’d want me to be happy and move on, but I don’t want to.

I probably said that thousand times but I will never stop saying it.

I will not move on.

A month after Bucky’s death, 1944.

I thought they did not care, I thought they would not come, I thought they left me alone, I thought they let me be with my thoughts.

God, I was wrong. I was so wrong.

They, both of them, mother and father, burst into our my apartment two days ago without my permission, I do not know how they unlocked the door, but it does not matter now.

They brought a doctor with them. A therapist.

You can’t live like this – they told me.

It is not normal; you need help – they continued.

I refused. I did not need help. I can deal with it by myself.

They did not believe me. All of them, nor doctor or parents.

I refused to speak up.

I did not need help.

I am okay.

I am healthy.

I am just sad.

I did not want to share my thoughts with the stranger.

I did not need any medicine, any pill.

I can deal with it by myself.

I did not talk, I did not drop a word, but my mother did.

She told the doctor everything instead of me.

I only had to confirm her words.

I only had to confirm that I don’t sleep, I don’t eat, I don’t drink and that I feel nothing.

I admitted but I refused to talk about you.

I did not want to vent to them.

They will not understand anyway.

He gave me pills anyway.

He told me to drink them once in a day.

I nodded, but I knew I would not drink them.

My parents wanted to stay here but I did not allow them.

I did not want to see anyone.

I did not need anyone but you.

A month and two weeks after Bucky’s death, 1944.

I gave up.

I did not care about anyone

I pushed a few pills down my throat at once.

A few. Or maybe a little too many.

But I don’t care.

I feel light.

I feel good.

I feel satisfied.

I feel sleepy and relaxed.

But my mind tells my opposite. It tells me I did wrong, it tells me I should not have drunk so many, it tells me not to close my eyes, I don't know what to obey, I want to close my eyes and take a nap, but my mind won't let me.

I did wrong.

I should not have drunk them.

But it’s late.

I feel too good.

Too relaxed.

Too light.

I am sorry.

[thetimemoves]

fic writer meme

I was tagged by @discordantwords - thank you!!

Author Name: thetimemoves(WriteOut)

Fandoms You Write For: BBC Sherlock

Where You Post: AO3

Most Popular One-Shot: Abditory, my first fic. I wrote this for the Winter 2017 Holmestice exchange thanks to a challenge by @notquitepetworth. 

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: I’ve yet to post one! All of my stories so far have been fairly short. I’m working on a multi-chapter BBC retelling of The Reigate Squires set sometime in S1/S2.

Favorite Story You Wrote: Right this minute, I’ll go with Out of Every Nowhere, my most recent story. It’s a canon-divergent Reichenbach reunion fic that ended up completely different than my initial idea and I’m pleased with how it came out. (A trusted beta is more valuable than gold and I learned that times a thousand with this fic. Thank you, @splix71!!!!)

Story You Were Nervous to Post: Definitely Abditory, as it was my first one. After years and years of consuming fic like a fiend, I was scared as hell to share my own. I still can’t believe I actually wrote something and shared it, but I am SO happy I did. I was also nervous to share Carpe Vinum. It’s a Sally Donovan pre-canon gen fic that I knew wouldn’t set fandom on fire and well, it didn’t. That said, my recipient seemed to like it and I enjoyed diving into Sally’s head so much, I’d like to write more about her.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: Two of the four stories I’ve posted have a song lyric as title. I know, I know, but they’re actually quite perfect for those particular stories. The one I’m least happy with is Carpe Vinum (Seize the Wine). That sounds like it should be a fun drunk!fic, but it’s the exact opposite. For all but one story, I had the titles before I started writing.

Do You Outline: Not as such so far. I tend to write in a haphazard fashion; I know my first line and usually my last- or something close to it- and then I fill in the blanks between the two. With my multi-chapter WIP, I am outlining more as it’s a case fic based on a canon story and I want to be sure I don’t lose the plot.

How many of your stories are…

Complete: I have four stories on AO3. Four! Not a lot compared to many, but more than I ever thought I would.

In-Progress: These are all WIPs not yet shared on AO3- one is the REIG update I mentioned above, tentatively titled Of Shags and Squires (just tentatively, mind); one is the very first fic I started that is based off a @sherlockkinkmeme prompt reblogged by @discordantwords (a canon-divergent TEH where the old man really IS Sherlock); and one is a (hopefully) spooky story about the Bogeyman I started last year for a Halloween prompt I flaked out on but really want to finish.

Coming Soon: Of Shags and Squires, presumably, but I am tempted to try my hand at the August challenge set forth by @writersmonth. We’ll see!

Do You Accept Prompts: I do! I’ve never written one other than from Holmestice (all four of my fics are part of the Holmestice exchange, which does include prompts of a sort). I’m totally open to prompts if anyone wants to throw me one, but I can’t promise anything quickly.  

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: I’m excited for my REIG fic; it’s got smart, snarky Sherlock and bamf!John and I might actually attempt a kiss in this one. A kiss! I’ve just managed forehead touches and snuggles so far. :)

Tag Five Fanfic Authors to Answer These Questions As Well: I tag @notquitepetworth @pipmer @educatedinyellow @daisyfornost @vulgarweed  and anyone else who would like to participate, but only if you’d like to!  

[percywinchester27]

Unconventional Roommates

Word count: 1.8K

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: None. Maybe Sass?

Series Summary: Now that his brother is at Stanford, for the first time in his life, Dean does something for himself. He takes a step towards chasing his own dreams and moves away from Lawrence to start college, which is both thrilling and scary at the same time. Only catch, in this unknown town, he is stuck with the MOST infuriating female on the planet- the roommate from hell!

A/N: I really love this story because it’s different from anything I’ve written before. I really hope you guys like it! Beta read by the lovely @deanssweetheart23. I love you so much babe <3 Also written for @spnfluffbingo. 

Square filled: Roommates

Dean knew it was going to be tiring. Hell, he'd expected it to be absolutely exhausting. But even then he'd been looking forward to it, because as exhausting as it was, it was also exhilarating, because for the first time in forever, when you make that one decision for yourself and yourself only, it was going to feel like your heart itself was bursting out for your chest, and Dean knew that, but he still couldn't help feeling a little overwhelmed. He'd spent all of his life in Lawrence, barely ever stepped foot outside of Kansas. So, this was huge for him.

After two long days spent in packing, loading, travelling, and finally unloading, Dean was here, in front of what was going to be his home for the next three years of college.

College. There was that word again. It was still hard to believe that he'd finally done it. Even as he hoisted the last box over his shoulders and laboriously walked up one stair at a time to the third floor apartment, he couldn't tame the feeling that his stomach was in knots. He'd finally snipped all ties with his past and took that one step to move forward. It felt promising, wondrous and exciting, but, at the same time,it was scary and nerve racking.

His best friend would tell him that's how it's supposed to be, and to some extent Dean agreed, but there was no denying that starting this new life was hard. For one, he knew nothing about how to go about living like this. For all his life, as long as he could remember, Dean only followed the one rule- Keep your head down. Work hard. Protect Sammy. He was all Dean had and it was only in the past year that Dean had realized that looking after Sam had given his life a purpose and now that Sam was gone, there wasn't much to his it.

Yes, the beer in the evening with Benny allowed him to let loose after a day spent repairing cars in the hot sun. Sometimes, he'd even get himself a girl to forget the days wears along the curves of her body for one night. But even though Dean had spent more than half of his life working at the Turner garage, sometimes even overnight to make enough to support Sam and himself, he had never regretted it. Ever. Because Sam was worth every drop of his sweat.

The kid had been good at school from the get go, and it didn't surprise Dean when he earned that full ride to Stanford. Sam had been about as good a brother as Dean could have wished for. He cooked sometimes and even helped at Rufus' garage when he could. In fact, it had been Sam who had convinced Dean to sell the old house and go chase the college dreams he'd never even dared to dream. Now that Dean was here without Sam it felt a little hollow.

After heaving the last of his boxes in what would be his room, Dean made his way downstairs to his best friend who was sifting through the truck to see if there was any more luggage left.

"All good?" Benny asked.

"Yeah." Dean huffed. "I think I've got it all in there now."

"It's a great apartment."

Benny wasn't wrong. The apartment overlooked a lot of low slung building rooftops and the shore beyond it. Other than the living room, it had two bedrooms, one with and one without an attached bath. The landlord had warned Dean that the other tenant, a girl of about his age, she'd described, kept to herself and hated people overstepping her personal space.

It had been pretty clear with the "Keep out" that was painted in bold red on the master bedroom door. Dean didn't mind having to use the other common bathroom. In fact, the way the landlord had described the tenant, he was pretty sure she didn't step out of her room anyway. There had been no one in there all of the morning that he'd spent shifting things. Maybe he'd get to meet his roommate in the evening.

"Do you want to grab a bite?" Dean asked.

"Sure thing!"

He and Benny headed to what looked like a comfortable restaurant named Ellen's, that was just on the opposite side of the street and half a block down.

"So," Benny said, eyeing his eggs. "Think you'll be fine here?"

"Yeah," Dean shrugged, trying to curb the panic he was starting to feel inside now.

Benny had a knowing look in his eyes. "Look, man, this is good for you. You're just 24 years old and all you've done your whole life is work, work and work harder. There's nothing left in Lawrence now that Sam is at Stanford and-"

"Yeah, I know. But this feels weird. College? Studying? You know that's never been me."

Benny shook his head. "That's exactly you, Winchester. You were the smartest kid in out class. Just because you spent more time with grease on your hand instead of books doesn't not make this your thing."

When Dean still looked unconvinced, he continued. "You know this is a good college. They didn't accept you for nothing. I'm sure you know more about automobile engineering that any snot-nosed kid in the freaking university."

Dean laughed, trying to play it off.

"I'm serious," Benny urged. "This is your chance to do something for yourself. Sam was right in asking you to sell off the old house."

"It doesn't feel right to spend all that money here," Dean gestured around himself. "Sammy has a share, too."

"Kid wouldn't even have had anything to eat if it weren't for you. He's not doing you a favor by letting you use up that money, and he knows it. You raised him well."

It was no point arguing with Benny, but even after all expenses were covered, it left a decent amount in the bank should Sam ever need it.

"This is good stuff, man," Benny smiled. "I've always wanted something like this for you. I'll miss you at the Garage though, and Ol' Rufus would never say it to your face, but he just lost his best man."

"I'll miss you too, man," Dean hugged Benny tight, then clapped him on the shoulder as they separated.

It was hard to watch him climb into the truck and drive back. Dean spent the rest of the evening walking through the town, getting to know what was where. It took his mind off of the ball in his stomach. Eventually, Dean walked back into the building, gliding his hand over the hood of his beloved Impala as he passed her in the parking lot.

His mind was buzzing with nervousness and thoughts about tomorrow as he made his way upstairs, of course the lift was out of work when he had to shift all his stuff. Wanting nothing more than to just fall into his bed and sleep it off, Dean pushed the door of his apartment.

Inside, huddled on the sofa, a girl was softly weeping into her hands. Dean couldn't get much of an estimation of how she looked, because while most of her face was covered by her fingers, and her head was covered in a dark grey beanie, even her ears were barely visible. She sat cross-legged along the edge of the sofa, wearing a knitted black sweater and loosely fitting tracks.

Just seeing her huddled, her shoulders hunched inwards, trying her best to wipe her face clean, an odd protective instinct surged through him. Without thinking, he reached out to touch her shoulder, thinking of something, anything that would comfort her.

However, the moment he touched her, she looked up, and Dean knew he would never ever forget the brilliant Y/H/C eyes that met his. He could have sworn that it felt like they were seeing into the depth of his soul, seeing him for exactly who he was- the good, the bad, all of it. They were fierce but so, so brilliant. More than that, they were without fail the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

So shocked was he, that Dean didn't look beyond the fierceness to see that they were furious.

"What do you think you're doing?" She hissed. "Get your hand off me!"

"W-What?" Dean was bewildered, but he removed his hand all the same. Her voice was as unusual as the eyes. It was husky and deep. Unique.

"Who do you think you are barging in like that?" She glared. Dean caught on quickly, annoyed now.

"I'm the other tenant. I paid for the room!"

"And that doesn't give you a right to touch me."

The nerve!

"Lady, you were bawling your eyes out right now. I was worried."

She scoffed, and for some reason it annoyed Dean more than it should have. Mostly because it was an impressive scoff. He didn't even know scoffs could be impressive, but this one seemed like it was delivered by a professional actor with years of stage experience and it irked him to no end.

"I was watching the movie, Romeo!"

Only then did Dean realise that the TV was on. The last of Harry met Sally, where the couples were interviewed was being played.

"You just ruined the movie for me!"

Dean could almost feel the steam coming out of his ears. "I was just trying to look out for you. And don't you ever call me that again."

"Alright, Romeo! But I ain't no damsel in distress. Keep those hands to yourself."

He balled his fists. Mad at himself for being so mad. Why was she getting on his nerves? So she'd assumed him to be some sort of sleazeball, but it wouldn't be the first time. His leather jacket and greasy jeans had always made people assume all the wrong things. So, why was this bothering him now?

The answer presented itself just as quickly. Because he had been genuinely worried if she was hurt, but, also, because he had to share a roof with this girl from now on.

"Whatcha looking at?" She asked looking smug, like his momentary silence had proven her point or something.

"Nothing," Dean huffed. "Please do continue with your moping bout. Seems like your kinda thing. Don't let me interrupt your favorite past-time."

"Stay out of my business," she said, standing up, an empty box of Pizza that had been resting on her lap clattered to the floor.

"You could be a freaking serial killer and I couldn't care less, as long as you don't put the dead bodies in the fridge, honey!"

She narrowed her eyes then stormed towards her room. Just before she could dash in, she turned and yelled. "And stay out of my fucking room."

She slammed the door so hard in her wake that the hinges rattled, and Dean was left to wonder what the hell had he walked into.

***************************

PART 2 will be out on 18th August <3

A/N 2: Please do consider reblogging my work and leaving feedback. Reblogging helps spread it, and also helps against the “best posts first” option tumblr has. The more the notes, the less chance of it getting buried beneath others posts. And the comments are what keep me going. I love you guys and I’ll be in forever grateful <3

Strike-through means that sadly, tumblr won’t allow me to tag you. Maybe it’s something about your blog setting or the blog name is spelled wrong. If it is the later, send me an ask and I’ll add you back again!   

But here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

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[lilsherlockian1975]

Part 2 of The Potential of Pairs

As I mentioned before, this was supposed to be a short story, which it is... sort of. Anyhoo, @mizjoely hope you enjoy it, your prompt is to blame ; ) Once again, thanks to @darnedchild for betaing and Potter-picking. Still rated T and always will be. Enjoy ~Lil~

Part 2 - The Acquisition of Pluck

At first, Sherlock was, just as Molly had anticipated: rude, pushy and overbearing. Never satisfied with her calculations or the way she stirred a potion or prepared ingredients; he seemed to have a biting remark ready for her every move. She wasn’t surprised, they’d been in school together for six years and he had been disparaging towards her several times in the past. He was making her a nervous wreck!

Thankfully, he hadn’t yet made any scathing comments about her looks or personality, which was his usual MO when it came to Molly. For some reason with her, it was always personal.

She’d seen him cut other students down, usually referring to them as inferior or idiotic, preferring to attack their intellect rather than their appearance. She had even seen him embarrass Kitty once when she’d made a pass at him during a Quidditch match, basically telling the witch that he’d rather shag a Quintaped than spend one full minute alone with her.

Molly was relieved, to some extent, but she was always waiting for the other shoe to fall. She simply couldn’t erase his merciless verbal flagellation of her at the Yule Ball their sixth year...

She needed this, this night of friends, frivolity and festive foods. Letting Meena talk her into an uncharacteristically tight black dress and heels, she actually took the time to apply a little makeup  (something she rarely did) and charmed her hair into soft curls that cascaded down her back. She didn’t feel like herself, but that didn’t seem like a bad idea, for once. Besides, if it happened to attract the attention of a certain dark-haired Slytherin, that would make the night all the more interesting.

Not that it would, but...

It had been a tough year for the witch. Her mother had passed three just months prior and her boyfriend, Tom, had moved away literally the week before. She didn’t love the Hufflepuff, by any means, but he had been sweet and attentive and had made Molly feel so much more confident in herself for the first time in a very long time.

Never one to dwell on the negative, she did her best to put on a brave face and focus on enjoying the party. And it was working, going quite well actually, until she crossed paths with Sherlock Holmes.

Near the end of the night, as she was looking for Meena, she stumbled, bumping into Greg Lestrade. Unfortunately, the wizard was talking with Sherlock and John near the refreshment table. The heels were a bit too high, it seemed.

“Oh, sorry, Greg,” she said as he helped get her balance.

“‘S’alright, Molly.” He looked her up and back down again. “Wow. Don’t you look nice!”

“Um, thanks.” She blushed, though it wasn’t the first compliment she’d received.

“Yeah,” John chimed in, staring at her chest unapologetically. “I didn’t know you had… ah…”

“It’s a charm,” Sherlock said as he took a drink of punch.

“I’m sorry?” Molly asked.

He turned to her, a bored look on his face. “Well, you didn’t suddenly hit puberty overnight, Hooper.” Studying her for a moment, he said, “You’ve also done something to your face, though...” He narrowed his eyes. “Ahh...your lips, obviously. Careful with Engorgement Charms, they can go horribly wrong. Keep practicing though, your lips are too thin without them.”

“Sherlock…” John started.

“What?” the Slytherin said to his friend. “She’s obviously overcompensating since the only wizard who ever showed her the least bit of interest ran off to America.” Turning back to her, he smirked. “Whose attention were you trying to attract this evening, Molly?”

She felt her eyes filling with tears and even though her instinct was to turn and run, she simply couldn’t. She’d had enough! Her mother was dead, her boyfriend was gone and now Holmes, beautiful as he was, had just humiliated her in front of all his friends.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked, her voice nearly a whisper. “Why do you say such horrible things? You don’t know me. You only think you do because you seem to think you know everything.”

He leaned down. “Let’s see what I know about you, Molly Hooper…”

“Sherlock!” John warned again.

But the Slytherin ignored his friend and went on, evidently, hell bent on inflicting her pain. “I know you are desperate for approval; always working towards getting the highest marks and trying to impress the faculty. I know that you have only one close friend. In six years, Molly, you’ve not grown close to anyone other than the Patil girl. Why is that? I’d say rampant insecurity if I had to wager a guess. I know that you’re afraid that you’ll end up a spinster, alone with a house full of cats. And do you know what else?” He paused, his blue-green eyes boring into hers. “That’s a valid fear.”

Molly drew back as if she’d been struck.

Suddenly, Sherlock’s hair turned bright pink and he coughed before vomiting up a giant slug. Molly looked around to see Mary Morstan and Sally Donovan, wands drawn, pointed at the wizard.

“Too far, Holmes,” Sally growled.

Sherlock hacked up another slug, then said, “Your boyfriends were just ogling her.” After another disgusting regurgitation, he tried to compose himself. “Are you sure it was too far?”

“That’s because she looks amazing,” Mary said as she handed him a small bin she’d Transfigured out of a punch glass. “They’re not blind, for Merlin’s sake. It’s about time you showed these idiots what you’ve got, Molly,” she added with a wink.

The commotion attracted the attention of several students as well as McGonagall and Snape.

“What’s going on here?” the Headmistress asked disapprovingly.

“If I may, Headmistress?” Snape asked. “I’m guessing that Mr. Holmes, once again, opened his overly large mouth and invoked the ire of any one, or all, of these young ladies.” He looked at them each in turn. “Am I right?”

They all nodded.

“Well, he’s in your House, Severus. You deal with it. But get him out of here before he makes someone sick,” the witch replied, making a disgusted face before hurrying away.

“Come, Madame Pomfrey awaits, Mr. Holmes.” And with that Snape led Sherlock out of the party.

“I’m sorry, Molly,” John said. “Sherlock is such an arse sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you see Meena, tell her I went to bed, will you?”

They had very little contact after the slug incident, which was frankly fine with Molly. It had done one thing, however, she found herself closer with the two Gryffindor witches who had come to her rescue. Silver lining, she supposed.

The confusion started three weeks into the term. Around the end of September, something changed. After an uncharacteristic outburst on her part, Holmes dialed it back, slightly. Even though it was hard to believe, Molly realised that she had actually earned his respect by standing up to him. Though it hadn’t worked at the Ball, somehow when she let him have it during Potions class, he change his tune rather quickly.

While working on Draught of Living Death, Sherlock called her incompetent and criticised her ‘crushing technique’ when she was preparing the Sopophorous bean.

She was nervous enough, worrying over her marks and didn’t need the genius wizard critiquing her every move. After warning him gently he ignored her, and reached for the silver dagger she was using, snatching it from her hand.

“If you’re not going to take my advice, I’ll just do it…”

It was the final straw for the usually mild-mannered witch. This time she did not whisper her admonishment. “I’m doing it right, you giant arsehole! And if you don’t give me back the damn knife I’ll crush your bollocks next!” she shouted, causing all heads to turn in her direction, including Professor Snape’s.

Steadying herself for points loss, Molly lowered her eyes and waited for the oncoming storm.

“Well done, Miss Hooper,” the Dark wizard said. When she raised her head, she saw an odd look in his eyes. Though he wasn’t smiling, it almost seemed like he wanted to. “You got there quicker than I thought you would. Five points to Ravenclaw. Holmes, you’re lucky that your scrotum is still intact. I’d be more careful if I were you. Back to work.”

She was convinced that Sherlock would make her life a living hell after her outburst and their professor’s rebuke, but quite the opposite happened. When she finally looked at him, one corner of his mouth was turned up.

He held out the dagger to her. “Those beans aren’t going to crush themselves, Hooper,” he said with a bit of humour in his voice.

Their potion turned out perfect that day.

From that point on Sherlock was simply put: different. Oh, he was still a pompous arse, but he seemed to school himself when speaking to her, at least to some extent. Not only that, but the Potions Professor had been right; Molly’s work was quickly improving.

She soon decided that perhaps she’d been wrong about the wizard. Maybe, just maybe, he was a bit misunderstood.

In preparation for her apprenticeship at St. Mungo’s, Molly had been slowly working her way through her father’s medical journals and textbooks. Every couple of weeks she would send him an Owl with the finished books and a request for more. One of the many sub-specialties that she found fascinating was Psychology and she decided to focus on learning as much as she possibly could as it wasn’t well known in the Wizarding World.

At any rate, the knowledge she was amassing was helping her deal with the genius and he was, in turn, helping to improve her marks. Suddenly, she didn’t dread Potions anymore.

More to come! Thanks for reading! ~Lil~

[sciencespies]

This year's Atlantic hurricane season is so bad we ran out of names two storms ago

https://sciencespies.com/environment/this-years-atlantic-hurricane-season-is-so-bad-we-ran-out-of-names-two-storms-ago/

This year's Atlantic hurricane season is so bad we ran out of names two storms ago

Here’s how active this year’s Atlantic hurricane season has been: When Tropical Storm Wilfred formed on September 18, the National Hurricane Center exhausted its list of storm names for only the second time since naming began in 1950.

Within hours, two more storm had formed – now known as Alpha and Beta.

Even more surprising is that we reached the 23rd tropical storm of the year, Beta, more than a month earlier than in 2005, the only other year on record with so many named storms.

The 2020 Atlantic hurricane season is far from over. With the new storms, forecasters shifted from the alphabetical list of people’s names to letters of the Greek alphabet. The 2005 season had six Greek-letter storms, ending with Zeta.

So, why is the Atlantic so active this year? Meteorologists like myself have been following a few important differences, including many tropical storms forming closer to the US coast.

What’s causing so many tropical cyclones?

When a disturbance – a large blob of convective clouds, or thunderstorms – exists over the Atlantic Ocean, certain atmospheric conditions will help it grow into a tropical cyclone.

Warm water and lots of moisture help disturbances gain strength.

Low vertical wind shear, meaning the wind speeds and directions don’t change much as you get higher in the atmosphere, is important since this shear can prevent convection from growing. And instability enables parcels of air to rise upward and keep going to build thunderstorms.

This year, sea surface temperatures have been above average across much of the Atlantic Ocean and wind shear has been below average. That means it’s been more conducive than usual to the formation of tropical cyclones.

La Niña probably also has something to do with it. La Niña is El Niño’s opposite – it happens when sea surface temperatures in the eastern and central Pacific are below average.

That cooling affects weather patterns across the US and elsewhere, including weakening wind shear in the Atlantic basin. NOAA determined in early September that we had entered a La Niña climate pattern.

That pattern has been building up for weeks, so these trending conditions could have contributed to how favorable the Atlantic has been to tropical cyclones this year.

An unusual twist off the US coast

Four hurricanes have hit the US coast this year – Hanna, Isaias, Laura, and Sally, which is more than usual by this point in the hurricane season. But we also have observed many short-lived tropical storms that had less impact.

When a tropical cyclone develops from a disturbance that forms over Africa, it has a lot of ocean ahead of it with room to get organized and gain strength.

But this year, many storms have formed farther north, closer to the US coast.

Most came from disturbances that didn’t look too promising – until they moved over the Gulf Stream. The Gulf Stream is a large ocean current that carries warm water from the Gulf of Mexico, up the East Coast and into the North Atlantic.

Tropical cyclones typically need sea surface temperatures over 80 degrees Fahrenheit to form, and the warm water along the Gulf Stream can help disturbances spin up into tropical cyclones.

Because these tropical storms were already fairly far north, however, they didn’t have much time to gain strength. Meteorologists haven’t yet studied why so many storms formed this way this season, but it’s possible that it’s due to both warmer-than-normal Atlantic Ocean waters and the position of the Gulf Stream.

Lots of firsts as the season breaks records

One of the biggest surprises this year has been how consistently we have been breaking records for earliest named storm for their rank. For example, Edouard became the earliest fifth named storm on July 6, beating 2005’s Emily by a week.

Fay was the earliest sixth named storm, showing up almost two weeks earlier than Franklin did in 2005.

Wilfred was the earliest to run out the list of designated storm names. In 2005, Hurricane Wilma formed on October 17, but it ended up being the year’s 22nd named storm chronologically, not the 21st like Wilfred, because an unnamed subtropical storm formed on October 4.

The National Hurricane Center discovered this unnamed storm during a post-season analysis.

In all, the 2005 season had 28 qualifying storms. The list of Atlantic tropical cyclone names skips letters where easy-to-distinguish names are harder to find, like Q and Z, then moves to the Greek alphabet.

Could we run out of Greek letters before hurricane season ends on November 30? I don’t think anyone’s ready to consider that.

Get our best science, health and technology stories. Sign up for The Conversation’s science newsletter.

Kimberly Wood, Assistant Professor of Meteorology, Mississippi State University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

#Environment

[operationrainfall]

  Well, it’s a little late for Christmas in July, but that hasn’t stopped the fine folks at Dharker Studios from launching a Kickstarter campaign for Santa Girls, a Christmas themed visual novel and dating sim.

In Santa Girls you will assume the role of a manager for the Christmas themed section of a department store. Part of your job description is managing Santa’s four little helpers, and no they aren’t greyhounds, they’re four attractive young women: Raine, Hayley, Sally, and Elly.

  #gallery-0-4 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 25%; } #gallery-0-4 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

  Depending on the choices you make throughout the course of the game you may or may not get to keep your job at the department store and you may or may not grow to be more than friends with Santa’s girls.

So maybe you’re thinking this sounds cool, you’re considering backing their campaign, and you’re wondering about reward tiers. Well, let me go ahead and tell you about reward tiers:

Please note: All prices have been converted to USD from the British Pound. Also all tiers include rewards from previously mentioned tiers.

The Game ($18): A steam key for Santa’s Girls once it launches.

Beta Access ($30): A Beta Steam Key granting early access as it’s being developed.

Digital Wallpapers ($34)

Avatars DLC ($36)

Soundtrack DLC ($42)

Emoticons DLC ($46)

Art & Guide Book PDF ($60): High resolution digital PDF of the artbook, including a guide to the games endings.

Digital Dakimakuras ($72): High resolution images of the four romanceable characters as dakimakuras.

Christmas Cards ($96): Physical Christmas card pack.

    There are also two additional rewards for those looking to spend a little extra money. The first is the Just the Physical Rewards for $144: This includes just the Christmas card pack and physical Dakimakuras with none of the digital rewards, not even the game itself. The other is the Physical Dakimakuras tier for $217 that includes EVERYTHING: Physical and digital rewards AND the game with beta access.

And finally, on the opposite end of the spectrum, if you don’t have a lot to spend, but would still like to support the game while getting a little something in return there’s the Pick a Mix reward tier. This is about $4 and grands you access to any of the following DLC items: Wallpapers, avatars, or emoticons.

Dharker Studios was looking to raise at least $3,610 in this campaign and have already met that goal, sitting at over $5,200 as of this article, however it should go without saying that if they manage to raise more money that will likely lead to a better product in the end. They have prepared a number of stretch goals they could still use help reaching.

They’re quickly approaching their first stretch goal of $6,032 for additional kissing illustration for each girl. At $8,445 they would like to add chibi illustrations. And a harem ending at $10,858. Dharker Studios has other stretch goals in mind too, and you should checkout their campaign page if you’re curious. Those of you interested in the more adult content of the game will want to make special note of the highest stretch goal.

So that’s the basic rundown on Santa Girls. If this Christmas themed adult visual novel sounds like your jam make sure you give their Kickstarter a good sifting through. There’s still some information I didn’t include here and other goodies to checkout including more artwork and even the games unique theme song that will play in it’s trailer and on it’s main menu. Dharker Sudios is currently estimating to have the game ready for November of this year. Just in time for the holidays.

      (18+) Kickstarter Spotlight: Santa Girls Well, it's a little late for Christmas in July, but that hasn't stopped the fine folks at…

[ceciliatan]

The #ICFA39 Panel on Power & Politics in SF/Fantasy/Horror

I’m live-blogging this from the writers panel on Power & Politics at ICFA 39 (International Conference on the Fantastic in the Arts: Orlando, FL). When I do a live-blog typing like this I capture about 60% of what is said, so this is just a fraction of all the commentary and discussion. (And any bad grammar or things that don’t make sense are definitely my fault and not the panelists!)

Sally Weiner Grotta, Sam J Miller, Mary Anne Mohanraj, Fran Wilde, Stephanie Feldman at ICFA 39

On the panel:

Fran Wilde

Mary Anne Mohanraj

Sam J Miller

Sally Weiner Grotta

Moderated by Stephanie Feldman (Crawford award winner and current anthologist in Who Will Speak For America.)

Stephanie Feldman: My opening statement: All art is political; it either enforces the status quo or challenges it. Does speculative fiction have a particular relationship to politics though?

Panel: (silence)

Mary Anne Mohanraj: Okay. I’ll put on my professor hat for a while. When we’re teaching we talk about cognitive estrangement. By saying here we are on another planet, we’re talking about aliens, then you can start exploring gender, race, neoliberal economics, and it lowers people’s defenses. If I talk about moms in Oak Park and my neighbors read it, there would be an immediate defensive reaction. But if I talk about tentacle creatures on another planet there’s a distance there which lets us get at issues.

Fran Wilde: I think the way we can re-key the map of history is the most important thing we can do and almost an obligation. Read Everfair by Nisi Shawl (who’s in the audience). It take King Leopold’s war and makes it all work out. When science fiction does it, it’s felt as entertainment, but it helps make us better humans.

Sally Weiner Grotta: In the human political environment, it’s very easy to hate the other if we do not know the other. It’s so important to take it out of the local context to create empathy for the other. Those who don’t empathize with their neighbor who is slightly different might still empathize with this person on Mars or Alpha Centuri. One of the key problems in our current society is the bankruptcy of empathy. As authors we can help people re-establish it within themselves.

Sam J. Miller: I think sf/fantasy gives us the vision about how we can make things better. You can use it to warn people, to explain how fucked up it is, you can be a cautionary tale and show people whats’ wrong with the fantasies they have.

Stephanie Feldman: We have so many dystopias now, it’s so important to have some Utopias, too. And whose utopia is it?

Fran Wilde: There are so many stories where the utopia has a price, though. Even Black Panther, Killmonger is the one who is left behind so that Wakanda can exist.

Maryanne: I think we’re preaching to the choir here, everyone at this conference is going to say yeah, sf can be political, so I want to push back on that and argue the opposite. I think a lot of people walk out of Mad Max thinking Furiosa is awesome! But not necessarily saying hey we have to get on this water thing. There is this series of essays (by Amitav Ghosh)about how to picture climate change. The consequences of it are so big that when people read sf they can’t bring it back to our world. It’s different from Handmaid’s Tale which addresses things people feel acutely all the time instead of things that are in the future or on another planet. It’s happening “over there.”

Fran Wilde: Why is that, though? Neal Stephenson sneezes and Google races out to develop it as the next hot thing. Why isn’t that working on climate change?

Mary Anne Mohanraj: I don’t know–it’s not my argument, it’s his argument. But we don’t want to look at it. We have, for lack of a better term, a big blind spot about it.

Sally Weiner Grotta: Well and then we have the people who think it’s all fictional to begin with! So if you write a fictional representation of it, the conspiracy theorists will say well you write fiction anyway. James Baldwin said: “You write to change the world, knowing you probably can’t, but if you can change it by one millimeter, then you have.” I think we can have some effects.

Sam J. Miller: We are challenge how people think and behave but I think we do it in support of the people who are actually trying to change the world as opposed to being the ones who change it ourselves. As writers we don’t exist in isolation. So treating it like we’e offering one piece of what we function politically in the world.

Fran Wilde: And you have other jobs. None of us are just writers. We have to do other things. Like you working with the homeless in New York and Mary Anne, after the Trump election you ran for office.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: yes, I ran for library board and I won, which is the smallest office. But if there was one thing I wanted people to come away from this panel it was go vote.

Sam J. Miller: It’s also though that voting is important but it’s one day of the year. The rest of the year call your reps, go to protests, read a book, write a book, even if you can’t vote.

Fran Wilde: The thing is sometimes our language has been taken away from us. The language of climate change has been disallowed. Legally you are not allowed to. Part of our job as writers is to take that language back. Omelas, but also Frankenstein, and Paolo Bacigalupi, he gives you your words back.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: I think we have to be careful not to give up just because a problem is big. It’s part of our job to say I know it’s a big problem. Maybe if I’m a polish writer trying to write about the Soviet era I need to put it into science fiction so I’m not thrown into jail.

Fran Wilde: And many writers did reclaim the Russian language through science fiction.

Stephanie Feldman: But what can we do to affect the change or tell the stories we want to tell? I wrote one for Welcome to Dystopia, and we were asked to envision the dystopia that would happen after the election. I was reading Twitter and I was realizing my story actually seemed better than what was actually happening. I didn’t go dark enough! It’s a problem. If we need to imagine near future that’s a challenge and people become very quickly adjusted to it. Natural disasters are not shocking to them anymore. How can we go after those folks?

Mary Anne Mohanraj: I’m happy my story in Welcome to Dystopia hasn’t happened yet. I did go dark enough.

Sam J. Miller: But you don’t think things are going to change until they do change. Look at gun control: Parkland happened and now we have kids fighting back in really effective ways and the conversation is actually changing as a result. Even the really intractable-seeming problems can *snap* get fucking fixed.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: I just read the graphic novel March by Congressman John Lewis, working for voting rights in the south. He was a student activist. And the thing that struck me is that you have to march again and again and again. You don’t just have one march. First time you get a small number of people out, and then they go back to the classroom and talk about it, and then the next time 2/3 of the class march. And so on.

Sally Weiner Grotta: The school is named after an activist who fought for the Everglades and taught her by their example not to back down. That kind of story example can inspire communities.

Fran Wilde: But there are lots of schools where they taught gun control…

Sally Weiner Grotta: Well it’s that they were teaching a culture of not accepting the status quo.

Fran Wilde: Parkland is a watershed, but the families that have died in previous protests in Philadelphia and St. Louis are being rolled over.

Sally Weiner Grotta: I believe in the zeitgeist, in that spirit, and that it’s a moment that people have seized.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: Well and you had a bunch of tech savvy theater kids there who used the Black Lives Matter model to exercise their privilege and spread their message.

Stephanie Feldman: This is what we were joking, is what happens when you raise kids on The Hunger Games. They’re ready to rise up.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: You look at Gandhi. He was a PR genius. He staged a lot of things very visibly, very dramatically. And sometimes I think activists forget that part of it.

Stephanie Feldman: To bring things back to writing and science fiction. Did any of you stop writing after the election.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: Some did. I had one student whose advisor finally told her, “That man doesn’t get to take your novel from you.”

Sally Weiner Grotta: In real society we haven’t seen the Caligula-like despot before. To a certain extent we are more prepared as writers for living in the sf/f realm to try to understand how it world. It gave me more of a push that I need to form stories that make sense in this word that makes zero sense to me.

Sam J. Miller: You want to believe that we’re better than this. But we’re not. Part of what made the 2008 elections so transformative, we thought hey, maybe we’re not so bad after all.

Fran Wilde: Spoiler: we are that bad.

Sam J. Miller: My novel Blackfish City we sold the week before the election so I was writing it a year before, and it’s very much an anti-Trump book. The latest US government has collapsed and pundits are saying it’ll be the last one. A lot of us were already writing about how fucked up things are, and now our little Cassandra complex is everyone can see that it’s fucked up.

Fran Wilde: I helped beta Twitter. I live on Twitter. Watching the twitter philosophy narrative form on election night and the local news in PA had a completely different narrative. They were talking about a culture I didn’t understand. Pennsylvania isn’t a culture I understand anymore. The fact that there are people who want to take away my life by cutting off health care is enraging, and to watch my friends losing their care and their health. I didn’t want my fiction work to be about that narrative. I did not want to write about domestic violence and kids surviving it. I did write an article about a family member for the Washington Post that I said they could publish after this family member died, but then when Trump happened I let them publish it. It’s sort of now or never.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: What I was writing about politically before all this was about the Sri Lankan civil war. I translate it into sf and fantasy and I come back to it again and again. In some ways I’m a utopian. I think of Elie Wiesel and Anne Frank saying I believe people are good at heart. I don’t believe in empathy. I believe we have a failure o first premises. Most people who are democrats have parents who are democrats. And most republicans had parents who were republicans. I think everyone is trying to be “good” within their framework. So after the election, my impulse was hey, I’ve been over here having this conversation about Sri Lanka and neighbor against neighbor but also how people put themselves at risk to save others, the Singhalese neighbors who sheltered their Tamil neighbors at risk of their own lives. So now my focus has been talking to republicans in my community. And there aren’t a lot them because I live in ultra liberal Oak Park. In our library for example we got rid of fees. As we were going on the campaign trail people were saying don’t you support people having to learn responsibility. And I didn’t tlel them the library isn’t job to teach that. Upper income students are in my office the very next day if they miss a test, whereas lower income students have a shame spiral where they just don’t show up in my class ever again. So I tell this to the nice old ladies in our garden club aren’t these the people we most want to have in the library? You have to reframe it for them. They have tears in their eyes when they find that out. They have empathy. But they don’t know how things are. So much of what’s in our country has been subjugated to corporate interests.

Nisi Shawl (question from the audience): Is there a step toward the future we want though? Is there the equivalent of the Star Trek communicator becoming the flip phone. Is there a climate change story we could tell?

Fran Wilde: I like alternate histories for that reason, though. So we can see a different path. How do you re-envision a technology or a society so that it works better?

Sally Weiner Grotta: There’s a lot fo things going on in third world countries that we aren’t even aware of. like using plastic bottles as water condenser taking words out of the air. You can use those kind of things for a story.

Fran Wilde: That’s a word I really want to take back: “third world country.”

Mary Anne Mohanraj: A better word is “developing country” if that’s what you mean.

Karen (in the audience): Where is the power to change? Is it at the top? Is it in the middle? Where can we make that incremental change?

Mary Anne Mohanraj: But it’s like Sam was saying when I was talking about voting, it’s not about whether we have power it’s whether we use it. There are so many things you can do, but most people aren’t doing them. The kids at Parkland is the pointy end of the stick but there’s a huge wedge behind them.

Sally Weiner Grotta: One of the things the election made me want to do is to include more speaking and workshops in my career, and teaching people to listen to each other’s stories. The ability to teach storytelling is a powerful thing that we have. That’s one of the things I believe in.

Sam J. Miller: The power to make change always lies with the people most impacted by the problem you’re trying to solve. It’s not about savior of the oppressor deciding to stop. I always think of “what’s your primary audience?” If there’s just one group, who is it? For me it’s the young queer folks who aren’t seeing themselves. TO me it’s a function of who are we writing for. If there’s a problem we’re writing about, center the narrators of the folks who are most impacted.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: But there also nothing about us without us. If it’s me and my position of privilege saying I think they need X, but if they’re voices are not there I’m not doing it right. Thinking about Gandhi, about coming to India after being a British taught lawyer and working in South Africa, but it was the white western media who were worked by him.

Sam J. Miller: But then you look at the Civil Rights movement of the sixties, there were people of all different types involved, but it had to be the black leaders who were the leaders.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: The Space X folks asked us as sf writers to ask about future housing solutions, and they asked who are the stakeholders in this project? How do you engage them?

Audience member: We start reading SF as an escape, but now we’re moving toward attacking problems our real world. How do you handle that?

Mary Anne Mohanraj: I just started reading Roxane Gay and I need to take breaks. I think there is a place for escapism. Right after the election a lot of people fell into a pit of despair, and something light and charming can help you out of that.

Fran Wilde: We also don’t write the same thing again and again, either. We have that variety that lets you see multiple sides of the same issue. Some are funny and some are less so. I’m funnier on Twitter, honestly… But that variety and also reading other people is something that as writers we have to do. Give yourself the permission to breathe.

Sally Weiner Grotta: As writers our fist responsibility is to our readers to tell a good story, develop good characters, and then we express our angst about the future, but we do it as a good story, weaving the reader through the issue. like MAM I tend toward hope against my rational self. That’s what drives me more than “I want to write about climate change.” It’s more “I want to write about this girl and her family” who have run out of water.

Stephanie Feldman: A completely idealistic ending won’t feel true, but a completely despairing ending won’t feel true either.

Fran Wilde: What’s so frustrating is watching all our best plot lines being stolen by the actual news!

Sam J. Miller: I think Black Panther is the best kind of escapism. It has really nuanced exploration of real world issues. We provide not a sense of happiness so much as a sense of justice. Maybe everyone die, but in a story their deaths have meaning. We give people something. The movies and books are the ones that make me feel like I have a place in the universe. If that’s illusory, well, okay.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: That’s lovely but I don’t know that I agree. I don’t know that I’m actually full of hope.

Fran Wilde: On this panel you are! I’m sarcasm, you’re optimism, and Sam’s nihilism.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: I think there’s less pressure in mainstream lit to have happy endings. Why is it that there is some expectation to have sf/f end on a triumphant note? At the end of book 1 of the Hunger Games you have the triumphant hero arc, but it starts to unravel at the start of book 2, and by book 3 you know that she has made her own way of doing things but the power structure is all still there.

Lynette (question from the audience): What are stories that felt like it helped you see something you were powerless about or that made you go do something about it?

Mary Anne Mohanraj: I think feminist sf of the seventies is what made me take my husband down and say “we have to talk about chores. No this is not an even split and I’m doing more and more, and he was like no, it’s even… and we made a chart and charts things for a week. He was actually doing better than most husbands but it still wasn’t equity.”

Sally Weiner Grotta: I was reading Dickens around 6th grade and that was a big call to arms for me. About how society can fail people and how good people in society can still go wrong. It really shaped me going forward.

Sam J. Miller: I should have so many answers to this question, but I don’t.

Fran Wilde: I can think of various characters but not books really. Various books various stories put characters in trauma or injustice. The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson is a big one. A lot of Alaya’s stories do that.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: Going back to the feminist sf of the 70s: Joanna Russ gave me permission to be angry.

Sam J. Miller: We should have this conversation on Twitter because I know lots of people will have them. I’m going to say The Handmaid’s Tale showed me how things go so quickly from bar to worse. I understand the mechanics of oppression and how people participate in their own oppression from that book, it really sharpened my understanding.

Mary Anne Mohanraj: Look at the Defense of Marriage Act. I think one reason it happened faster than expected is because of Will & Grace. Will & Grace humanized a lot of gay people for a lot of people. It’s a slow change and it’s cumulative now that things are imaginable. I wrote a story with two lesbian girls in Sri Lanka in the 1940s and did a reading from it. And my dad comes up to me and says “How did you do the research? How are you sure there were lesbians there?” He really thought lesbians were only in the West. He’s a well educated guy but he really couldn’t see it. It goes back to cognitive estrangement. Showing you a world so different from your own that it makes you question your own assumptions.

There were more questions from the audience at that point, but my fingers were getting tired of typing!

Some books by these nice folks:

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