#sam's brain barf

[caitlinsnow-yayyy]

I’m gonna get worried from now on whenever a morning goes as well as this one did. I should’ve known that was going too well.

[mkstrigidae]

tried to post a future APWH WIP scene here but tumblr is being STUPID and won't let me??? Anyways look for something tomorrow on the off chance this hellsite decides to work

[studiogrimm810]

Speak of the Devil >Edging Sleep // part 3

pairings: (established) sam winchester x gn!you, dean is also there

summary: you are taken by lucifer for over a week and sam damn near looses his head. when you are finally rescued, the trauma of what was inflicted on you has left it's mark and it's up to sam and dean to keep you put together this part showcases you trying to sleep and your mind becoming overrun with a pestering hallucination of lucifer that sam tries to talk you down from

warnings: torture, ptsd, flashbacks, hallucinations, graphic depictions of said torture

word count: 4,064

A/N: this work is now on AO3! i'm unsure of how many parts i'll be doing, but figured it should go there too just to be safe and have it more complied ^.^

read other parts here

———————

Sam’s arm is wrapped around your torso, holding you firmly to his chest. He stays quiet but fully awake as he wants to keep an eye on you as you try to sleep.

However, every time you start to relax and fall asleep, Lucifer’s piercing red eyes burn your eyelids like lasers and alert you awake. Sam feels the flinch that ripples your body whenever this happens but he tries to keep his hold sturdy and consistent.

He places a soft kiss to the back of your head and whispers sweet nothings every now and again because despite the current state of your mental health, he’s just beyond relieved that you’re back here in his arms and safe.

Honestly, so are you.

Despite a deep claw of paranoia screaming at you that this could all be a dream, you know that deep down Sam is the most real thing you’ve experienced in weeks.

Well, maybe that’s a bit of a stretch because the torture you suffered was real. Each gash, burn, stab, singe, or sting of a weapon in Lucifer’s arsenal embedded itself into your skin and left its mark- scar or no scar… right?

That really does beg the question- was it real?

Even if your skin is now not marred and free of remnants of the past inflicted pain, you still felt everything. You still saw everything. Lucifer kept you physically unconscious as he tortured you in the consciousness of your own skull, laying you out on some made up table and securing you with made up chains and using made up weapons- but it was a real table, and real chains, and real weapons. Just fake- but real.

God, it was starting to piss you off how you ran in circles. You just wanted to know if it was real- because it felt real. There are actual memories of each and everything he did to you burned into your brain- the very brain he cooked it up in the first place- and that had to make it real, right?

But then, where is the line of reality? Sam was tortured in Hell, not his physical body, but his soul and it was still real.

But now if you fall asleep and wake up in a dream of Lucifer carving you up like it’s Halloween, is that real? Or is that just a left over figment?

If you didn’t feel crazy before, this unhelpful trainwreck of thought will surely do the trick.

You’re unsure of how much time passes again before you finally start to doze off but the feeling drifts you lightly into a bliss of sleep. With your body warm and protected, sleep swallows you easily.

But it barfs you right back up when a playful whisper makes you suck in a sharp breath as you jolt awake.

Your heart races as you frantically look around the room for the source of the hiss but can’t find anything.

Sam sits up, as he shakes off his sleepiness to assess the situation- you hyperventilating and completely awake as you search the room frantically.

And that’s when you see him.

The Devil himself leaning against Sam’s desk with his hands clasped in front of him, he shrugs with a cheeky smile as your eyes land on him.

“It’s me!” He beamed, clasping his hands back in front of him as he stands fully and stalks close to the bed, causing you to scoot back into the bed frame.

“Hey- what’s happening, what’re you seeing?” You can hear Sam’s voice, but you don’t process it.

“He asked you a question, doll face, ya’ better answer him- be rude not to,” Lucifer scrunched his face dramatically, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Honey? Can you hear me?” Sam asks with more urgency, pulling off the blankets and grabbing your wrists lightly. You startle at the touch but don’t flinch away- it’s enough to get you to look at him.

“H-he’s here,” you whisper, frozen in fear. This was so odd for Sam, he was used to seeing you as a strong, capable hunter but of course he knew first hand how Lucifer changed a person.

“Okay- okay,” Sam swallows, looking around the room for a moment.

“Hi there, pretty boy, it’s been a while,” Lucifer winks in Sam’s direction but of course only you see it.

“You’re okay, you're here and you’re safe. He’s not real, sweetheart,” Sam pushes some hair out of your face, trying to get you to focus on just him but your eyes keep darting back and forth between him and Lucifer.

“Hey- that hurts my feelings,” Lucifer feigns offense and clutches his non-existent pearls, “tell Sam that hurts my feelings,” he flicks his finger up, pointing at Sam like this was casual.

Your back stays glued to the headboard as you just watch Lucifer in front of you. You take in the details of him to look for anything to prove that he’s just a figment- wrinkles, stubble, torn clothes. It really looks just like him. But was it the him that tortured you or the him you’ve yet to see in person- but that’s when you remember.

Okay, to really lay it out, before your abduction, you had never seen The Devil in the flesh- well, not his, but someones. Regardless, you had only heard stories from the brothers, you had never come face-to-face. At least not until that Wednesday night outside of some bar a few hours out from the bunker. Lucifer had appeared out of nowhere and even then, you thought he was just another patron.

The fucker was charming, but even then he made a brick of unease settle in your stomach as he spoke. It seemed like a situation you could handle- potential intoxicated man trying to make a move or bother you in some way- but when his eyes beamed red with a split smile, that is when you knew you were outmatched.

That’s when his face solidified into your skull, his real and in-person face and-

Wait, no.

Not his real face.

Because that’s not really Lucifer but just some poor bastard who said ‘yes’.

No no, Lucifer’s real face was something of an exhibit of him. Something that he spotlighted for you in the confines of your own skull. Your own…

So, let’s get this straight- the in-person Lucifer you saw was the one you see before you, at least they look the same, but so does the all-in-your-head torture Lucifer. But the all-in-your-head torture Lucifer was also the one to show you his real face- like actual his true face. The face of a mangled, neglected, torched angel. Something so horrific but incomprehensible- pure terror.

You’re getting derailed as you try to organize your thoughts and the jumbled confusing mess of what’s classified as real is truly starting to wear you down.

“You’re not telling him,” Lucifer pouts, barring any sort of intimidating scowl or hint of actual anger.

You’re still frozen though, thoughts in disarray, sounds muffled, vision tunneled.

“Look at me!” Sam’s rough voice- a voice that he’s never used with you- rips you out of your shock. It rumbles his chest and reverberates off the walls as it echoes in your ear long after it’s left his lips. “Talk to me, baby, what’s happening?” His voice instantly soothes back down, guilt ringing his glossy eyes but barely showcasing much as he knew he had to yell to snap you out of the invisible hold.

“Now, I’ve been listening,” Lucifer resumes, “and I’ve come to a conclusion that you, doll, don’t know whether this is a crumb of our connection,” his use of ‘our’ makes your throat tickle with a threat of bile, “or a delusion my inflicted presence,” his lips curl into a smile that the Cheshire Cat would be envious of.

“You’re okay, you’re here,” Sam emphasized his words with a gentle squeeze around your wrists. To him, he hoped this could work as a grounding technique for you just as the cut to his hand worked for him during his struggle with hallucinations.

“And I think that’s a very fun starting point for round two,” Lucifer pounds his fists out as if he’s warming up for a boxing match.

“He’s talking,” your lips barely move as your vocal chords decide to work out a word or two. The gentle rumble past your lips is enough for the tension in Sam's chest to lighten just a tad.

“What’s he saying, honey?” He asks, gentling reaching up to tuck a strand of hair out of your face then returning to his hold on you.

“Don’t ignore me, sugar, I’m very entertaining,” Lucifer promises with a wink as he hops onto Sam’s desk and keeps his eyes set on you. His face melts into a cold and unsettling look of waiting- just waiting. No major emotion lighting up any particular corner, just a standby look of indifference.

“A lot,” only your tongue flicks weakly to produce this response.

“Is he angry or just being annoying?” Sam asks simply.

“Hey!” Lucifer scoffs, the nonchalance melting away as he appears offended by Sam’s words.

“Annoying,” you croak softly before you can stop yourself. The Devil ticks his gaze towards you with a ‘oh-no-you-did-not’ look and with a roll of his eyes and exaggerated rock back of his head, he pushes off of the desk and starts pacing.

“Annoying? You both really find my presence annoying?” Lucifer bites at his lip, arms crossed with one wrist brought up so he can nibble at his fingernails as he paces.

A small smile pulls up an edge of Sam’s lips at your response, finding a glimpse of peace in the fact that you seem to have even a sliver of humor still working.

“What happens if I,” Sam asks cautiously as he squeezes your wrists, as if trying to wring out a towel. You make a small sound of protest at the pressure but it doesn’t actually hurt or make you tug away. He waits for any update from you but you don’t even know what he’s waiting for exactly.

“I- I don’t know,” you mumble.

“Tsk, tsk, Sammy, it’s not gonna work like the hand scar,” Lucifer shakes his head. He gasps lightly with fake wide-eyes and a hand going to cover part of his mouth. “Have I just given myself away?” His eyes shimmer with amusement.

“Keeps talkin’ to you,” you whisper. This makes Sam still, turning to glance back at the area surrounding his desk- where your eyes keep darting. The thought of what Lucifer might be saying hacks at the bundle of nerves wound tight in his gut. Sam forces himself to turn back to face you, holding your wrists still securely in his own grasp.

Hand scar, yeah- okay. You remember Sam telling you about that once or twice when you asked about the particularly puffy scar on the inside of his palm. He explained it as the thing that kept him grounded and that the reason it healed so funky was because of how often he dug into it for a solidification of reality.

“Maybe not,” Lucifer shrugs.

Was this the real Lucifer or not?

“Just shut up,” your chest voice startles Sam. His eyes darted up to examine the pestered look on your face. A look that’s quickly wiped off with a jump and strangled whimper erupting from your throat.

Before you, Lucifer scowls with a twisted twitch of his lips and his features morph into an angry picture of mangled skin and dripping blood- you recognize it as your own face.

One form of torture he inflicted on you was by taking pieces of a shattered mirror and decorating your face like candles on a cake. The reflected glares on the glass had caused a migraine to form each time he performed this act.

The repetition was something you felt you could best put into a glitched painting- the image before you being the same image Lucifer had reflected at you during the act and even then the shards in your face reflected off of each other, bouncing between you like a trail of threads. Too many shimmers in too many directions. Too many reflections.

The reflection of you before you.

The miniature reflections- of you- on the blades burrowing into your mimicked face.

Too much.

A strangled cry breaks out of your mouth as your eyes punch shut and you curl your head into your hands. The quickness of your moves causes Sam to let his hold slip off of you like discarded silk sheets.

Lucifer is cackling, a loud, mocking sound that hammers in just how little you feel right now. The sound sends shivers down your spine and you feel a ghost hand walk up your spine ever-so-lightly and it makes your back straighten to try and press into the wall so that reasonably, nothing could touch you, right?

Right?

That’s reasonable.

Sam is beside himself, he doesn’t even know where to begin. He hoped that being the only other person who has dealt with Lucifer’s prolonged torment, he would be able to coach you through this or at least know what to say. But upon being here and in this moment he realizes that there just is nothing to say. There’s absolutely nothing he can do to make right now better for you.

He feels useless.

Your hands clamp the back of your neck, trying to guard the sensitive area with a firm grip.

“Talk to me, baby,” Sam’s voice cracks, his handles idle and- what’s the devil's playground again?

“M-mirrors-,” barely a comprehensible word really, but Sam looks right at the only mirror in the room. He tears through his brain, trying to remember everything that Lucifer did with mirrors. It’s a nauseating shuffle through memories but it’s necessary to you which makes it absolutely vital to him.

There were the ‘self-displays’, as Lucifer would call it, where he would be forced to watch as Lucifer did what he did but through a mirror opposite to his positioning. There was also the extensive periods of time where Lucifer would pry open Sam’s eyes so he was forced to watch only his reflection for days on end- something that really fucked with his head more than he’d like to admit. And then the ‘splicing’, where Lucifer would take shards and line them up along Sam's face to almost entrap him in an eternal peripheral vision that made Sam dizzy just to remember.

He wasn’t sure which, or if any, of these you were talking about, but he hoped that the lack of mirrors and overbearing light were enough to help just a bit. He struggled with saying something before deciding to just get up and act. He flicked off the bathroom light and closed the door before covering the mirror and returning to right in front of you again.

“Okay, honey, I need you to listen to me,” he coos softly, caressing your cheek gently to test where you were at with physical touch. You tensed under his hand but didn’t move away which was enough for him to continue. “I’m real, I’m the man who loves you and who searched for you. You are at the bunker in Kansas. Dean is up the hall and you and I are in our bedroom- our bedroom. We have been in bed for a while but it’s still me who has been holding you, okay? I need you to know that for a fact,” he could see in your eyes that you were at least absorbing the assurance. He reached out to cover the back of your neck as you were- ghosting your hold like a shadow. “You can let go, sweetheart, I’ll cover your neck, okay?” He hopes this helps at least a little, just enough for you to hold your own wrists that he’s concluded is the most comforting thing for you at present.

You hear Sam, you can hear the bouncing echo of his voice around you, the reassurance that you know you believe, you just need to trick your body into believing as well. Pulling your eyes up to look at him, you can feel the swirling pit of dread in your stomach seem to slow a bit from its growing whirlpool that is destined to drown you- pulling you down and trapping you in its aerated water.

Your hands tremble as you unhook them from the back of your neck and you let Sam rest his own palms on the back of your head- strong, sturdy hands that cover double the space you were able to. It’s hard to regulate your breathing at first as your own paranoia is trying to scream at you that this isn’t really Sam, but you know it is because it has to be. If it isn’t then there really isn’t any hope for you.

Even if the Lucifer before you is him actually projecting his presence into your brain again, at least he’s sticking to only him.

“There you go,” Sam nods with a cracked smile as he breathes out a puff of relief. The scent of him- the heat of his breath- dusting over your face is enough to further solidify that it really is him.

Lucifer has morphed back into his vessel's face when you look at him again and he seems to be fuming with annoyance and contemplating his next move which makes you shiver with nausea.

“Can he touch you?” Sam asks and you’re not really sure how to answer. He hasn’t tried to but does that mean that he can’t? Lucifer scoffs to himself at Sam’s question and he seems even more annoyed. That gives you a sliver of hope that maybe he can’t.

“I-I’m not sure,” you croak. Your voice has stopped sounding like your own because nothing really feels like your own right now. Upon learning that you were trapped in your own consciousness while Lucifer inflicted his torture has made you completely loose any sense of bodily autonomy.

You go down to reach for your wrists once you’re completely settled with Sam’s hands palming the back of your neck.

“Now doll, why don’t you tell me your favorite part of your time with me,” Lucifer leans back against the desk as he stares you down, holding up his chin to look down on you as if he’s 10 feet tall. Your throat goes dry as his attention is fully on you again and you feel like an ant under his magnifying glass on a particularly clear day.

Images flash through your brain as you catalog through dozens of sessions with him, it’s against your own will as a few stand out- the mirror incident being the front runner.

“S-Sam, I can’t-,” you choke out through a sob that rattles your throat. You feel utterly sick and completely disoriented as the memories swirl around you and pull you deeper into the whirlpool picking up speed in your stomach.

Sam doesn’t know what to do or what to say. His mouth gapes open with an empty queue of words to speak. He just keeps his hold on the back of your neck as sturdy and still as he can, hoping to act as a shield for at least this part of your body. Even if he can’t coax you out of your own mind at the moment, the least he can do is take one worry off your list.

“You’re okay, baby, you’re safe,” he speaks through a thick fog in his own mouth, stiffening his jaw like it’s encased with molasses.

“Answer me!” Lucifer roars, slamming his fist onto the desk. The burst of anger pulls a helpless whimper from your lips that cracks Sam’s chest. He feels like this is hollowing him out completely- leaving him an unhelpful shed of skin in the wake of your breakdown.

“Make him go away,” your beg warbles through your wracked sobs.

Sam has to think of something to do to help, anything.

That’s when a thought pops into his head- if it’s really Lucifer projecting into your mind, would the sigil work? He has no time to ponder the theory or warn Cas of his plan because he has to act now.

You’re trembling under his hold, tear stained cheeks and raspy voice provoking a deeper sense of urgency within him. He hates to do it, but he has to let go of his hold on your neck to perform the sigil. He mumbles a regrettable ‘sorry’ as he moves his hands back to pull a knife from its sheath that’s secured to his side of the bed. There’s no particular flinch or whine of protest to the now exposed skin of your neck as you're still curled into yourself and holding your own wrists.

Sam slices his palm and starts the sigil on the wall above the bed, right behind you. He moves to unintentionally shield your body as he does so, creating an arch that blocks The Devil from your immediate sight.

“Sammy, you stop that!” Lucifer growls, trying to advance towards him but before he can make the full stroke, he’s shredded away in a blaze of white fire.

The silence leaves a ringing in your ears and you peak out from behind the wall of Sam in front of you.

The room is empty.

Your sobs are halted, the disappearance of Lucifer's nail-on-chalkboard screams seem to shock you out of the panic you were experiencing.

Sam feels frozen after the sigil burns with contact of his palm. He knows that it will still glow due to Castiel's angelic presence that has also been blasted away, but the room suddenly feels lighter- calmer. Has it worked?

He looks down at you under him and his heart is in his throat preventing any puffs of air to pass as he awaits your reaction. He leans back to sit on his heels to get a more forward look at you, holding his hand up to let the excess blood from the cut pool in his palm.

When you finally look him in the eyes, your breathing has returned as it rocks your shoulders and neck with each puff- as if you need to physically move your upper torso to force your lungs to work.

“What- what did you do?” Your words formed around the exhale of your quick breaths instead of your actual vocal chords. The exhaustion of this experience has drained your muscles of any energy.

“Angel sigil,” Sam scoffs a breath of relief followed by his lips flicking in a flash of a quick smile. He felt lightheaded as you turned to look at his blood that now stained the wall behind your shared headboard.

Once getting a good look, your body relaxes as it automatically turns back to face him almost fully again, he could tell you were making sense of what this meant.

“That was really him,” the words leave your lips with a shutter. Sam just nods.

Part of that was terrifying to you because it meant that he was real in your newfound definition of such. It was his actual soul- or whatever it is he has- that was before you just now. He projected himself to you again.

But another part rationalized that maybe this meant the projections/hallucinations would go away when the potion fully cleared your bloodstream.

The possibilities that follow the conclusion just founded only weigh down on your already exhausted shoulders.

“What matters is that he’s gone now,” Sam speaks softly- so warm and kind. “So you should try to rest, you must be spent,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and as much as you are scared to try and sleep again, he’s right.

You just nod softly and let him help you back under the blankets and into a comfortable and safe position in his hold.

That night, nightmares plague your dreams and cause you to wake often. Sam is quick to comfort you and ease you back to sleep, even repeating the sigil when you start to worry about him coming back.

Something that screams at both you and Sam is that just because the presence of Lucifer would most likely be temporary, his stain surely won’t be.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

>tags: @internallysalad

[jazzically]

ok even tho im in the middle of magp 9 i stopped my epic rave on the internet to also post this tangential digression that i barfed out by accident so that my mind appears to express itself at least somewhat chronologically and so that my posts are oriented vaguely in the order of a normal thought process:

An Argumentative Essay (that i literally wrote to myself mid-episode. why. what even) about something i noticed myself doing unconsciously

As i listen to magp 7 my newly conspiracy-theorist brain is actively and incessantly trying to find parallels between tma and tmagp (is the mysterious security guy like breekon and hope? is the oxford's people's trust akin to the people's church of the divine host, and that is why it burned down? does the press of a sea of laughing volunteers have to do with the buried, and/or their end with the slaughter?) and it took me like five full minutes to realize that i was being silly and should stop trying to identify exact similarities for a number of reasons: they wouldn't do that because it might be rather cheap and boring; people coming from Magnus would have an upper hand and be able to infer things from prior knowledge; this is an entirely new premise and story simply set in the same universe; and the simple fact that fear — broad a category as it is, as exemplified in the first two hundred episodes of the magnusverse — is the centerpoint of horror. of course there will be parallels!! if only coincidentally!!! lmao what am i thinking

anyway i started writing this because i wanted to appreciate/highlight the writers' efforts in making the stories so conceptually new in content, despite the constant temptation (at least, i feel it, secondhandedly) to adhere to the rules (categories of fear) already in existence, meticulously built up to craft horror tales specifically set in this universe already... it would be easy. but protocol is, in essence, a different series, and deserves the same amount of love and freshness and work put into it. i should stop guessing at what to expect, because i shouldn't pretend i know any more than i did when starting magnus lol

ALSO I LOOOVE THE MYSTERY!!! why would i spoil it for myself!!!!

p.s. im not sure whether the sam/celia romance feels forced to me but it's too early to tell

ANYWAY let me just reiterate how it was an absolutely wonderful surprise to discover alex and jonny still had character roles in protocol i have no idea why i didn't see it coming

eeeeeeee im so excited i get to listen in real time with the fandom nowww eeeeeeeeeee

i do regret (in such a minor way that it may be considered inconsequential) that the episodes aren't named CASE 7 or whatever bc that would be cool but maybe they aren't all gonna be cases ?? perhaps the structure is different.... hMMmmMM

8 seasons is crazy like wow props to you guys im so DAMN EXCITED

[rainbowxocs]

TW: Mentions of religious trauma and child abuse.

Notes by the greatest guy ever~ Me of course.

Name: Michael Elizabeth Ansley.

My parents thought I was going to be a girl- So they had to change my name at the last minute.

Alt Name: Michael Morningstar. Barf-

Special Titles: Crown Prince of Hell, Michael Morningstar. Also Barf. Dr. Michael Ansley, False God, Narrator.

Old Titles: “M”, “God”, “Lord of Darkness”. ALSO Barf-

Username: theliteralantichrist

Nicknames: Mikey, “Emo Boy”, Hero.

Age: 27.

Pronouns: He/They/Rot.

Sexuality: Gay.

Gender: Nonbinary, Gendervoid, HolyGoric. I would describe my gender as a rotting corpse to be honest-

Species: Hybrid (Antichrist.)

Disorders: Panic Disorder, CPTSD, Autism, Insomnia, Bipolar 2, ASPD, Anorexia, Checking OCD, Suicide Ideation.

Physical Disabilities: Blind, Chronic Pain.

Recovering Addictions: LSD, Alcohol, Mushrooms, Self Harm, Nicotine (Vape).

Religion: Atheist. Religions are scams, which I of all people should know-

Job: None, At the moment. ……

Current Major: Pediatrics.

Degrees: Psychology Degree.

Lives in: WV, America, 2034. Country roads.. take me home..

Languages: English.

Height: 4’9” >:( (Usually is about 5’4” WITH MY PLATFORMS!!!)

Race: White.

Ethnicity: Demonic.

Accent: Soft, Southern.

Monster Form: Sharp Claws, Sharp Teeth, Boney Elongated Form, Big Horns, Animalistic.

I don’t like this form..

Powers: Time Travel, Teleporting, Telekinesis, Fire Manipulation, Flight, Summoning, Sucking Life Force/Souls, Hypnosis, Possession, Strings, Necromancy, Omens, Shapeshifting, Mass Destruction.

If I wasn’t lazy I could probably take over the world.

Weapons: Knives, Scissors.

Strings Form: Pink Spiderweb.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral.

Text Color: Pink, Red when Upset.

Main Animal: Dog.

Main Hobbies: Sewing, Video Games, Fashion/Dressing Up, Crafting, Knitting, Needlefelting.

I like doing things hands on.. It gives me something to do.

Diet: Carnivorous, Raw Diet.

Whether I eat meat or raw meat is a different story- Strawberries are really tasty.

Favorite Drink: Strawberry Shortcake Coffee, Strawberry Chocolate Tea, Hwache, Strawberry Boba, Strawberry Monster Energy.

Favorite Fruit: Watermelon.

Favorite Meal: Pork Brains, Steak Tartar, Gumbo, Sashimi, Spaghetti, Katsudon, Dinosaur Nuggets and Fries, Pancakes, Fruit Sandwiches, Sago Soup.

Favorite Candy: White Chocolate, Gummy Worms, Salt Water Taffy, Konpieto.

Favorite Dessert: Strawberry Shortcake, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Gingerbread Cookies, Strawberry Icecream, Dirt Cake, Pavlova.

Favorite Flower: Pink Forget Me Nots.

Scent: Rose Cologne, Barbie Detangler.

Why do you need to know this about me-

Handedness: Right Handed.

Blood Color: Black, Sometimes Red.

Birthday: December 25th 2007 (Capricorn)

My birthday is… kind of ironic…

Theme:

Playlist:

Fun Facts: Wrote his very own Bible for his religion, has a stuffed animal collection, Has a magical girl collection.

Special Interests: Stardew, Minecraft, Slime Rancher, Animal Crossing, The Sims, Pokémon, Coraline, My Little Pony, Moomin Valley, Strawberry Shortcake, Fairy Princess Minky Momo, Sanrio. :)

Stims: Handflapping, Mouse Cheese, Sensory Cube, Pink Tangle, Pop it Game.

Stimboard: LINK

Moodboard: LINK

Fashionboard: LINK

Comfort Objects: Cat Plush, Cow Pillow Pets, Pink Slime Plush, Pokémon plushies, Killer (Teddy Bear), Gloomy Bear, Bluey Plush.

My Pokémon Team!:

In Games:

Animal Crossing:

Stardew Valley:

(Credit to this portrait maker)

Minecraft Skin: LINK

Family:

Lucifer Morningstar, Elijah Morningstar. (Fathers.) ……

Lilith Morningstar. (Stepmother)

Raven Ansley. (Mother.) :)

Ezequiel Ansley. (Stepfather)

Melanie Ansley (Aunt) …….

Lucy Ferr, Sin Morningstar. (Half Siblings.)

Alexander Leverett. (Adoptive Brother) (Strained.) …..

Immanuel Ansley. (Adoptive Sibling.) (Strained)

Sam Coleman. (Adoptive Uncle.) (Strained)

Micah Coleman. (Adoptive Uncle.) (Strained)

Friends: None. ……..

Romance: None. …….

Enemies: The Starlings.

Pets:

Danger (Tarantula)

Princess (Skeleton Cat)

Brief Personality: Mikey acts tough. For his entire life he has had to manipulate in order to survive. He can usually get what he wants with little effort. But he is, deeply troubled.. Usually he is incredibly chatty but lately he’s just been.. quiet.. He no longer seems to care about much, he’d rather just sit in the silence.

Brief Backstory:

Michael was born out of a prophecy. He was destined to destroy heaven and the earth. However for the time being he was born to his mother and “Father”..

Mikey had a pretty normal childhood for the most part. He was a good kid, he went to church, he played with his toys and didn’t make much of a fuss. However, as he grew older weird occurrences would happen around Michael.

His mother didn’t seem worried. But everyone else noticed the birds dying around him, the water becoming blood, bad omens seemed to follow the child. And it culminated in Michael’s house burning down with his mother and “Father” inside. He was the only survivor.

His aunt was given custody of him.. He didn’t know it at the time but he was not responsible for the fire. However everyone believed he was. He was forced to repent over and over and over and over to get rid of his “sins”, to get rid of the demons inside of him.

Michael felt hollow.. He felt the judging eyes of everyone on him. No matter how good of a kid he was he felt destined to be evil. It felt like the omens were getting worse and worse as he got older and older.

The church held an intervention for Michael. They told him that he wasn’t good enough, that God was disappointed in him. The demons were still inside him because he let them stay inside. He began to cry and say that wasn’t true and that he wanted to pure he wanted to be good.

The church members took him into the baptistery and forced him under the water, waterboarding him over and over again to try and get him to “repent for his sins” and that the holy water will cleanse him of his omens.

Over and over again he was forced underneath the water, he kept screaming but the water kept filling his lungs, when he finally was able to get some air. He felt this righteous anger fill his entire body, and he attacked the people who had forced him underneath the water.

He attacked the church leaders and in the struggle they gauged out his eyes. And stabbed him. Pushing him deep into the baptism water, as his blood filled the pool it turned a dark black color. And he ascended from the baptism a monster.

Michael killed everyone. The people in the church, his aunt, everyone. Everyone who had hurt him. Everyone who had forced him into bowing before a god who would never forgive him. This “awakened” something inside of him, a power he never knew he had. And he began to crave meat.

He became the monster the church thought he was. And he ran away. And he decided that he would become a god, if a god who watched him get tortured by the heads of his religion then he could easily become one.

He created a cult, Ascensionism. He being the god, and his subjects being his eyes. He saw through them, and when it was finally time they would ascend and become his food. Becoming one with their god.

After many years in the cult however he eventually feels.. empty inside.. He begins to question what the hell he is doing and disbands the cult. He goes on a long journey of soul searching, trying to figure out who he is, what he is, etc. and one could argue he is still on that journey now even tho he is much healthier than he was back then.

[liquidisedfrogs]

EUROVISION ABSOLUTE FUCKING BRAIN DUMP

Tonight, the night where... some... of Europe comes together and sings in an ..... something way, is the night I am willing to barf my brain out onto a page and commentate on the entire thing start to finish. THIS IS JUST MY OPINION!! Strap in motherfuckers....

We started the evening with the performance of last year's winner Ukraine (MWAH) starring Kate Middleton for some reason and Sam Ryder stood on top of some building in Liverpool. I had totally forgotten how earwormy that song was. I literally can't get it out of my head even now. We saw the countries come out onto stage to a very random compilation it seemed. I think Australia stole Germany's flag though.

PERFORMANCE 1 : ALBANIA- WHO THE HELL IS EDGAR? - TEYA & SALENA I'm not lying here when I say I LOVED this song. I loved how it took so much inspiration from Michael Jackson in the dance moves. The girl with the black hair was mind-blowing. Like, she was unbelievably gorgeous. I'm not saying the other one wasn't- they were both incredible. I loved how much colour and enthusiasm they seemed to have. IT WAS SO RANDOM AND I FREAKING LOVED IT. Rank no.5

PERFORMANCE 2 : PORTUGAL- AI CORAÇÃO- MIMICAT The dress. Oh my god that dress was DIVINE. I loved how like bright it was to be honest. It was just so dramatic and it felt like it had a lot of variety. I don't really know why it just really appealed to me. Her voice is DIVINE too. Rank no.6

PERFORMANCE 3 : SWITZERLAND- WATERGUN- REMO FORRER I'm not lying when I say that this song brought a tear to my eye. It was so moving but god, that guy needed to put a few more clothes on. I really liked it. Remo Forrer can sing so beatifully and yet I didn't know who he was before tonight. That low note made my jaw drop. Powerful. All I can say really. The guy also reminded me of Noah Schnapp for some goddamn insane reason. Rank no.7

PERFORMANCE 4 : POLAND- SOLO- BLANKA I had to rewatch it cause it was kind of forgettable. Felt like it had been done so much before. I don't mean any hate by this but I just didn't like it. I wasn't as WOW as other songs have been. It gave me the vibe of the Stuck In The Middle theme mixed with Despacito. It just didn't feel if you know what I mean. Rank no.23

PERFORMANCE 5 : SERBIA- SAMO MI SE SPAVA- LUKE BLACK Perfection. It was so.... I don't have words for it. It was just fantastic. It showed so much talent and I loved the Graham Norton description of the nerdiness and that definitely came across so incredibly in the performance. It was just like smoke sweat and tears. I LOVED THE VIDEO GAME BIT. It's a great song, it's a wonderful performance. It's the best. Also, take a moment to consider how fit the guy was. This was no doubt the best act in my opinion but I know not many people have the same opinions as me so I'm accepting the fact that he's probably not gonna win. Rank no.1

PERFORMANCE 6 : FRANCE- LA ZARRA- Évidement It had such a french vibe to it for some reason. It's stuck in my head. I really enjoyed it to be honest. The outfit was genuinely on point and the vocals were stunning. The chorus kinda gave me Dua Lipa vibes but there's nothing wrong with that is there. The lyrics were kinda dramatic. Overall, I ate it up. Freaking glorious song there was just a lot of good competition. Rank no.10

PERFORMANCE 7 : CYPRUS- BREAK A BROKEN HEART- ANDREW LAMBROU Not memorable. It was quite sad. He's got a good voice, there were just better songs to be honest. It was quite repetetitive. I didn't enjoy it particularly it was just there. A few more layers would be nice. He sung quite high and it wasn't necessarilly appealing. THE FIRE THO. That arena must have been so hot. His voice at the end was beautiful, fight me. Rank no.16

PERFORMANCE 8 : SPAIN- EAEA- BLANCA PALOMA The bit at the beginning with the vocalisations (I think that's what they're called) was incredible. It gave off quite a middle eastern movie vibe which I wasn't expecting from Spain. Her top genuinely looked like it had been melted by heat which made me laugh. It gave off a Satanic ritual vibe. I liked the song but the electronic parts really didn't fit her talented and gorgeous voice. Rank no.22

PERFORMANCE 9 : SWEDEN- TATTOO- LOREEN I loved the vibes she gave off espescially in the introduction bit to the song, she looked like a batty pintrest witch which is a look I adore. Her hair was just stunning but for some reason it didn't look real, I don't know. THE NAILS!! God, they were so long. Her whole set was just tattooine(hmm maybe she thought about that) to me. It gave Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus. I really liked it. The whole song was so nice. There's not really any other way to say it than that. I really liked it though. I'm happy it was her that won. Rank no.12

PERFORMANCE 10 : ALBANIA- DUJE- ALBINA & FAMILJA KELMENDI I really looked forward to this one because it was a family quite like me and my siblings but I felt quite sorry because only one of the girls really got to sing in it. You could tell who was the favourite child. I loved the sister's outfits and the bit where it basically turned into the parents' love song was great. It was a good performance but it wasn't anything special. Rank no.15

10 down, 16 to go!

PERFORMANCE 11 : ITALY- DUE VITA- MARCO MENGONI I liked the top, make me one. He has a gorgeous voice. It was quite moving in some ways but I did get distracted by the trampoline guys in the back. I LOVED THEM. The lyrics were a bit random, I had it on translating subtitles. It was okay, I didn't think it was anything special though. It was a sway with your arms in the air type of song. He's such a good singer, I swear, I just didn't love the song. Rank no.19

PERFORMANCE 12 : ESTONIA- BRIDGES- ALIKA It was a magical song. I really enjoyed how it gave off fairy Elsa vibes for some reason. I don't really have many words it was just lovely. She has such an incredible voice. I loved her outfit as well it was fabulous. It was just a gorgeous song, I really liked it. She has such a powerful voice. It was divine. Rank no.8

PERFORMANCE 13 : FINLAND- CHA CHA CHA- KÄÄRIJÄ If you're here for a specific song, it's probably gonna be this one. The hulk forgets to put on his chestpiece and he's on the stage at Eurovision singing a heavy-metal-techno-pop number. I still can't understand what the fuck this song was about. It's really confusing but it's a bop. I'm just blasting out CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA in my brain the whole time. I really liked it. It was a proper random Eurovision song and I LIVE for em. The guy's got a good voice on him though, the prolonged shouting must have been hard. Rank no.9

PERFORMANCE 14 : CZECHIA- MY SISTER'S CROWN- VESNA It gave ballet recital gone wrong for me. It sounded a bit too like the winning song from last year for my liking but it was incredible with the harmonies. I didn't really get the hair message. They were doing feminism stuff but sticking directly to the gender roles traditionally set which I didn't understand. It was powerful and I did like it. Rank no.18

PERFORMANCE 15 : AUSTRALIA- PROMISE- VOYAGER I love watching forty odd year olds dance around on stage like they're twenty one. It felt like someone had gone through my playlist, taken the best bits from each song and melted them into a pot together. It is an anthem and I adore that. I loved the woman on guitar. She was so good. I loved the vibes it sounded like it could be in a video game and honest to god it was one of my favourites of the night. Rank no.3

PERFORMANCE 16 : BELGIUM- BECAUSE OF YOU- GUSTAPH The Boy George vibes were real. His outfit gave rich man goes on safari but there's been an incident with a red sock. It was a BOP like literally. I just wanted to do the macerena the whole time. The start bit reminded me of a musical I can't remember the name of. It was kind of repetetive which I didn't like. It was okay to be honest. Shoutout to the guy who was willing to be a furry stripper for this. Rank no.17

PERFORMANCE 17 : ARMENIA- FUTURE LOVER- BRUNETTE The singer gave me Ariana Grande vibes. It was average. It was a bit like an I'm not like other girls. She has a lovely voice but it did get quite lost in the other countries amazingnesses. It didn't really stick in my head so I had to rewatch the full thing whereas with most of the others I either don't have to watch it or I only need a memory jog. The getup was stunning. The boots should have had black laces though, it would've fit do much better. She's incredibly talented but there were better songs. Rank no.21

PERFORMANCE 18 : MOLDOVA- SOARELE ŞI LUNA- PASHA PARFENI Welcome to the stage... satanic yoga teacher. I liked it. It was so European. It was a great watch. It reminded me of the Mandolorian theme which is a massive compliment in my book. The horny women were great. (They had horns in their hair.) It was very Eurovision esque and I really liked it. It was quite funny and my little brother voted for it. Great song. Rank no.13

PERFORMANCE 19 : UKRAINE- HEART OF STEEL- TVORCHI After last year, I had very high hopes for Ukraine. I enjoyed it. I really liked all the staging it was stunning but it didn't stand out to me very much. The phantom of the opera guy got the night off though! It was a great song. It would be great at a festival, I can see it now. I don't have a ton to say about it. It was good but not mind-blowing. Rank no.14

PERFORMANCE 20 : NORWAY- QUEEN OF THE KINGS- ALESSANDRA This whole song makes make me want to yell with happiness. It just like scratches my brain for some reason. It was the only song this year that I had heard before and even though I had, it did not disappoint. I swear it was a whole vibe. Her outfit was literally straight from SIX, bite me. I loved it. I loved every second of it but there were better songs. The high note showed talent. I mean, I can do it but, but it still shows years of effort and training. Rank no.11

Only 6 left!

PERFORMANCE 21 : GERMANY- BLOOD & GLITTER- LORD OF THE LOST HUGE SLAY. I loved it. In my honest opinion, I would've loved it to be in German but I do speak German so it wouldn't be that hard to understand. They really reminded me of Ghost with the whole red satan type vibe and the song itself. The makeup was FINE! I mean that in an attractive way. The start was so INCREDIBLE. He looked and sounded quite like Bowie and if you know me, you know I love Bowie. The heavy metal singing was on point. I'm suprised that they came last because they were pretty much tied with Serbia in my book I decided the ranks at like 1 am and my 1 am thoughts are always the best. Rank no.2

PERFORMANCE 22 : LITHUANIA- STAY- MONIKA LINKYTÉ The start made me think of the Lion King- just getting that off my chest before I dive into this one. It was lovely, it was beautiful but that's not really the winning characteristics. It was incredible. It gave off the sort of 2014 'Fight Song' vibe which I feel has been done so much already. I want to be able to mark this one higher but I feel I can't because of how high rated the other songs are. Rank no.20

PERFORMANCE 23 : ISRAEL- UNICORN- NOA KIREL Before I say anything, this is just me putting my opinions out there to get them off my head. I really didn't like this song. It was weird and it wasn't a song that I enjoyed watching. It's started off okay with a slight Melanie Martinez vibe but honestly shit hit the fan pretty quickly. It turned into a feminine anthem and, to me, all those songs sound the same. The worst bit was the bit where she said watch me dance and stripped off and basically became a stripper in her dance moves. There were children watching. You can't do that. Rank no.26

PERFORMANCE 24 : SLOVENIA- CARPE DIEM- JOKER OUT This was one of my favourite songs of the night. I adored the whole performance. It was like a step back into the past when Eurovision wasn't as big of an event and they didn't have all the feathers and glitter. It felt quite wholesome to me for an unknown reason. Personally, I don't think it was Eurovision standard. It was a lot more indie than all the other songs and it popped out of the page because of that. It had a very different view and appearance to the viewers. I have listened to this song about five times this morning I like it so much. Special mention to the guitarist because you look fantabulous. Like, you're so good-looking I can't understand wether it's gender envy or attraction. I loved the fits by the way. Rank no.4

PERFORMANCE 25 : CROATIA- MAMA ŠČ- Let 3 This performance made me really uncomfortable. They looked like a rip off of the YMCA and the song wasn't that good to be honest. It was just a bunch of people's grandads singing a dumb army style song and then stripping off. It wasn't enjoyable, it was very mildly funny and I just really didn't like it. It wasn't as bad as Israel or the UK though. Rank no.24

PERFORMANCE 26 : UK- I WROTE A SONG- MAE MULLER It was really just a mid song. She doesn't have the nicest voice and the song choice emphasised that. It was really repetetive and definately deserved the ranking it got. I do feel sorry for Mae though, she must have tried so hard. The staging wasn't that appealing and her outfit didn't fit the set. I would probably rate it 5/10 if I was doing that but I'm not. There was a lot of good competition and it simply wasn't as good. Rank no.25

AND THAT'S A WRAP MY DUDES!!

I think Tattoo winning was a great descision. It isn't one I would've made but it really stood out. I do think Germany deserved a lot more than it was given and I feel extremely sorry for Spain who only got 5 points for the public because that must've hurt.

Shoutout to Sam Ryder with his really nice song at the end, I though it was great. Also, they managed to get ROGER TAYLOR for it. FREAKING ROGER TAYLOR!!!

Have a nice day/night reader and I hope you return next year for another unnecessarily long Eurovision rant.

[casspurrjoybell-20]

FOOLS - Chapter 15 - Part 1

BOOK ONE: The 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning - Adult Content*

Samuel Moretti

Thankfully, I got to leave early and I finally got to Zach's party.

The blaring music filled my ears as I stepped inside and already, I heard someone call my name.

"Sam."

I turned around and smiled at Noah walking- stumbling- over to me.

"Hey, Noah. Where's Haven and all them?"

"I thought I saw," he hiccuped.

"I saw Carter outside with Stacy. Haven's dancing with Zach and Emily and Jason are shoving their tongues down each other's throat somewhere," he informed me then another hiccup escaped his throat.

I laughed and held onto my unstable friend.

"Are you drunk already?"

"I'm not drunk, Silly," Noah said, swiping my nose with his finger.

"Yes, you are. You've never called me silly before and I'm positive no one else either," I laughed again.

"Man, I love that laugh," Noah confessed causing my face to heat up.

"Your real laugh is sexy."

'Stage two: Flirtatious Noah.'

"Maybe I should get you home?" I questioned.

"You don't have to, you just got here. Plus," Noah pulled out his keys.

"I can just drive myself," he said with half of his words slurred as Noah gave me a lopsided smile.

I grabbed his keys from his hands.

"Like hell you are. Come on before you puke on everyone. Can you stand?"

"Yes," Noah said, standing up straight from leaning against me and started to walk but stopped.

"Wait..." he turned around, probably after realizing he had walked the opposite way from the front door.

As amusing as it was to watch that drunk idiot stumble around, looking confused, I decided to help him out.

I lifted Noah's arm up and over my shoulder so I could keep him steady.

Noah turned his face and looked at me surprised, his chocolate eyes lighting up.

"Sam. You're here. Wow, man, I'm so glad you could make it," Noah wrapped both arms around me and gave me a hug.

He closed his eyes and inhaled as he smelled me.

He sighed in content.

"You always smell so good," he murmured in my ear.

"I bet you taste good too."

My eyes grew wide when I felt his warm tongue lick the side of my neck.

"Hmm, I was right."

"Oh boy," I muttered.

"Okay, let's go. This way," I guided Noah out of the house and to my car.

I plopped Noah down in the passenger seat of Patricia.

'Yeah, that was my car's name.'

Haven hated it.

"Seat belt on," I demanded.

"Hmm, you put my seat belt on," Noah told me, poking my face.

Then he looked down and grinned.

"Use this for my seatbelt," he slurred, and his hands went to the buckle on my belt.

"Gah," I grabbed his hands.

"Noah, stop."

"Ever gotten' road head' before?" he asked me suggestively and tried to wiggle his eyebrows.

I made a strangled squeaking noise.

Don't you dare picture Noah giving you head while you're driving but I was already picturing it.

I shook my head to rid my brain at the lucid image.

"Noah, can you stop being difficult?"

"You're so pretty. Did you know that?" he asked, feeling up my face.

He wrapped his arms around my neck and drew me closer to him.

His lips got close to my ear and he whispered...

"I like it when you take care of me. It's a real turn on."

I felt my heart pumping faster.

Did Noah... like me?

Stop, that didn't mean anything.

Noah was drunk, he didn't know what he was talking about.

Jason said stage two was Noah being flirty with everyone, I had to remind myself of that.

"Okay buddy," I took his arms off of me.

"I'm gonna shut the door now," I told him.

Noah cooperated with me and I finally got the car door shut.

I walked over to the driver side and hopped in.

"If you feel like throwing up, let me know and I'll pull over, okay?"

I started my car and began driving us to my house.

About three minutes in Noah rolled the window down.

"I don't feel too good," he said leaning out the window.

"Noah, don't," I warned, pulling over quickly but it was too late.

Noah barfed up everything he had consumed that night out the window.

I parked my car on the side of the street, still in Zach's neighborhood.

Noah opened the car door, stumbled out and threw up some more in someone's lawn. 

"Jeez, Noah, you puked all over the side of my car," I scolded him, then gagged at the sight, almost throwing up myself.

Noah bent over, his hands leaning on his knees and vomited again.

He heaved a couple more times but nothing came up.

"Are you good now?" I asked after five minutes of listening to him gag. It was so disgusting.

Noah groaned, which was the best response he could come up with.

"Come on, you meat-head," I said.

Noah wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then got back in the passenger seat.

"Should I take you home?"

"No. I wanna go to your place," Noah mumbled.

"If that's alright," he added, which wasn't needed, he knew I would let him crash at my place.

"Of course," I said.

After a couple minutes, I pulled up to my driveway and turned off my car.

Luckily my mom was asleep as I brought Noah upstairs to my bedroom and sat him down on my bed.

I pulled off his Converse.

"I feel so hot," Noah whined.

What was stage three again?

Then as Noah started to lift his shirt up, I remembered.

'Stage three: Stripper Noah.'

I couldn't help but watch as he took off his shirt, his defined back making me want to reach out and touch him but then, he remove pants and then...

"Okay," I exclaimed in a panic, grabbing his hands to stop him from pulling his boxers off.

"I'll turn on the fan, just don't take anymore clothes off."

Noah grunted then collapsed onto my bed.

"I'm gonna' get you some water. Don't puke on anything," I warned him before walking out of the room.

After filling up a glass of water and getting two Tylenol for him, I went back to my room.

Noah was snuggled up in my bed.

"Here, and take these, helps for the headache," I said as I placed the glass of water and two pills on my nightstand.

He took both of the pills and drank the whole glass before laying his head back down.

"Thanks, Sam," he yawned and closed his eyes.

"You're a good friend. I love you," Noah murmured before drifting off to sleep.

'Stage four: Emotional Noah.'

"Yeah, I love you too. You have no idea," I sighed and gently brushed his messy brown hair to the side and once again shamelessly admired his body.

God, I wanted to kiss him but I couldn't and that was the worst part.

I thought I actually was in love with him that night but maybe I was just infatuated then because how I felt for him later, was way more intense but that night, I couldn't tell him how I felt or do anything about it.

Who knows what would happen if I acted on my feelings towards him.

He'd probably freak out and everything would be awkward and weird between us or worse, he'd never talk to me again.

I couldn't lose him even if it meant keeping my feelings bottled up inside.

I had to get over him but I didn't know how.

Believe me, it was easier said than done.

I grabbed a pillow that Noah wasn't using and a blanket from my closet and set up a spot for me on the floor next to my bed.

Maybe I'll get over him tomorrow.

Fingers crossed.

[lunex-the-cat]

Cursed 3 am thought Imma save in my drafts

Sam has Alexandria's Genesis.

[disasterjones]

Nott’s admission that she treats alcohol like a shield (i.e. a means of summoning the courage to do the things to protect the group she feels she otherwise could not) makes me realize that she views herself as the canary in the coal mine. 

She thinks she’s the disposable one, the one who—no matter her connections or commitments—must protect those around her at any and all costs. It’s, unsurprisingly, a very self-destructive mindset, and leads to behavior that would be alarming at best and indicative of a suicide risk at worst, were it not for the Sam’s comedic portrayals and the relatively safe boundaries of the game.

She is so determined to be the protector that she doesn’t think anything of the consequences if/when she fails, and while nearly everyone around her sees the harm it does to her, she can only see the benefits it can bring to them. So who cares if she gets a bit of bad luck now and then, if it keeps the people dearest to her safe? Isn’t her sacrifice worth that?

Naturally, everyone’s decisive reaction is, “NO!! STOP THAT!! WE LOVE YOU!”  But the funny thing about self-loathing is that you can find ways to like yourself as long as you’re doing things for other people at the explicit expense of your own health or safety. In Nott’s case, this is usually in the form of putting her life on the line in the heat of battle, or subjecting herself repeatedly to things that mirror her worst traumatic experiences.

Of course, none of them want that for her, and Caleb least of all. Because they’re in this as a group, as a collective, as a family. They protect each other, not because someone must carry the burden, but because they are stronger when united. They are messes, “but at least we are messes together.”

[corrodedcoughin]

so everyone thinks Eddie is a metal head through and through, that no other music shall touch his eardrums for pain of death.

The thing is, these people are completely wrong. Eddie just loves loving music. He loves making mixtapes based on mood, on scenarios in his head, on experiences he’s had, on experiences he’s never had! So needless to say Eddie munson has a diverse music collection.

A part of this music collection that is rapidly expanding is Motown and Soul. Because you see, the thing is, when Eddie thinks about Steve Harrington all he can hear is Motown. From the supremes, Marvin Gaye, the four tops, Etta James, Sam Cooke, these iconic soul singers encapsulate how Steve makes him feel. The heart singing joy of making Steve smile, the chronic ache of wanting but not having, they cover it all.

Eddies accepted his fate, doesn’t let himself think about how Steve will always be an ‘if only’ to him. He puts his soul music on and dreams. So when he’s out at a make shift karaoke night with the rest of the older friend group, all of them, except designated driver Steve, drunk off of cheap beer when Mary wells - ‘my guy’ comes on. Well. Eddie maybe loses his brain to mouth filter even more than usual, slides up to Steve, both arms wrapping around him from the back, gives a deep sigh and says ‘mmmm this is my stevie song’ and shoves his face into the other man’s neck.

Eddie knows he does this, has horrific memory of it in fact, because the next morning it replays on repeat in his head every time he tries to close his eyes. He groans and hopes he can die by asphyxiation from a cheap, thin pillow. Unfortunately the universe is not so kind. No, instead he hears the sound of an engine, an engine he knows all too well as belonging to the boy he’d do anything to avoid right now. There a knock at the door and Eddie plans on ignoring it, plans to hide in the safety of his pit of shame. What he doesn’t count on is Steve coming around the side of the trailer, and climbing into his open bedroom window. ‘No point hiding Eddie, I dropped you off last night, your car is in the drive and there is no way you’d be going out after the drinks you were knocking back last night’

Once again, Eddie groans. Steve doesn’t stay long, ‘just wanted to know you were alive man. Good to see you didn’t choke on your own barf’. There a muffled noise from under the blanket ‘okay…well…after last night I just wanted to drop this off, let me know when you’ve listened to it, okay?’ And with a pat on where he thinks Eddie’s head might be, Steve is back out the window.

Eddie emerges from his pit after some consideration, lured out by Steve’s cryptic comment. He spots a casette on his desk with a post it not that says ‘my Eddie song’. Eddie is immediately sweating. What is going on and does he really want to know what this is going to be? What if it’s purple people eater? What if it’s just a blank tape?!? He sits with it in his hands for far too long before he slams it into the player trying not to let himself think. He’s terrified and wishes he didn’t exist. This is the worst day of his life.

Slowly a song all too familiar starts to play through the speakers ‘I just can’t help myself’ by the four tops hums through Eddie’s room and suddenly, This is the Best Day of his Life

[kalivodas]

ooo could you write a simon kalivoda x reader where they both admit their feelings for each other in the bathroom when they have to change into the lost and found clothes bc they might have sams blood on them?? idk i always felt bad that everybody had someone except for simon 😭

ONE TICKET TO POUND TOWN — SIMON KALIVODA

summary: as above

warning: heated make out sesh.

note: hi it’s me again <3 loving these requests btw and yes!! simon deserved someone too?? enjoy plz

SIMON KALIVODA WAS a walking paradox. He had been as long as you’d known him, which was a while, truth be told. You loved it, though. His contradictions, inability to put on eyeliner without you, and the fact that he always stole your clothes. He was easy to love. That’s how you’d fallen for him.

"Hey, you," he said, tossing a blue cardigan your way before he turned to Josh with a grin. "Kalivoda here, I don’t think we’ve got any brain activity left."

"Shut it, idiot," you retorted. Your hands roamed the sweater suspiciously. When the world was going to end, you didn’t have much of a choice wardrobe-wise, but you’d much rather die in the flannel Simon had. It looked less itchy.

Josh gave everyone’s clothes a once-over and nodded. He had an Iron Maiden shirt, lucky bastard. "Everyone make sure there’s no blood on them. And Be careful."

You nodded back at him. You’d known Deena awhile, therefore Josh awhile, and the kid was sweet — but gravely transparent.

Total loser. Who would ever sit like and pine over one of their closest friends?

Nevermind.

"Rub-a-dub-dub-time," Simon called, swinging his leg up to kick open the bathroom door, but Kate cleared her throat and you all turned to look at her.

You were right behind her, but impatient was sort of her middle name.

She turned with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and said: "I don’t wanna go in by myself."

Mere inches away from saying, 'What am I? Chopped liver?' Simon wiggled his eyebrows at you, and slid an arm around your shoulders. "I've gotta pass up your offer, Schmidt. I’ve already got one ticket to pound town."

You elbowed him in the side, and Kate’s nose scrunched up as if she’d ever invite him.

Simon patted Josh on the back and whispered, "Good luck, lover boy," before ushering you inside the other bathroom.

"Sooo," Simon hummed. "Are you always this clueless, or is it only when we’re being chased by ghost killers?"

"One, shut up. Two, yeah, this is always."

He smiled.

You had been friends for years now, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to change infront of each other, but not since you’d figured out you had a crush on him.

Because it was Simon. And you were best buds.

In fact, he’d already taken off his shirt and spun it around a few feet away.

It was fine. You could turn away from him and do the same thing. But back when everyone was scrambling to get away from Skull Mask, formerly Ryan, he’d traced Sam’s blood barf to your jeans, and practically snatched you to the ground. You’d taken a fairly decent hit to your shoulder, so raising your left arm straight up was out of the question.

They could always count on you to take a fucking hit in the middle of being chased by Sarah Fier’s goon squad.

"Simon?" You finally asked, glancing over to see him check his back for blood by flexing in the mirror.

"Hmm?"

"Well, when the gun show is over,"

He laughed.

"Could you maybe…"

Just ask him to help you get naked. No big deal.

"Oh shit, your shoulder, right?"

You nodded, and Simon shrugged lazily, a smirk coating his lips. "Jeez, if you wanted me to take your shirt off, all you had to do was ask."

Smacking his shoulder only made him laugh more, but he closed the distance between you in two lousy steps.

"Like this?"

You nodded, and his hands traced the hem of your shirt. His hands were warm, and they sent chill bumps down your sides.

Tossing the pullover into the burn-unless-you-want-a-hitman-after-you pile, his lips upturned again, but his cheeks were an unusual rosy color, and the bathroom wasn’t hot. The opposite, actually.

He cleared his throat, stepped back to the sink, and started unbuckling his pants.

He hadn’t slid the trousers all the way off yet, they were resting at his hip bones as he ran his arms under the water. You couldn’t help but watch him with your head tilted curiously. Not in a creepy manner, well kind of not, but by the fact that he’s gotten flustered by taking your shirt off. That wasn’t Simon.

Simon Kalivoda was the biggest flirt you’d ever known, he didn’t nearly break his neck trying to get away from shirtless girls.

He’d taken your shirt off.

He was blushing.

He had looked away and cleared his throat.

And you were ninety percent sure you wouldn’t make it through the night, so it was only right to—

Fuck it.

"Simon, kiss me."

"What?" His head had snapped back to meet your gaze, and you weren’t sure why’d you’d ever let him look away. God, his eyes were beautiful.

But now it was your turn to make his stomach turn. It was like everything had dissipated around you, it was only him. Just Simon, the boy you’d liked for so incredibly long. You took the two steps to close the gap between you, then continued.

"We can’t—," you said softly, hands tracing his bare biceps so you could pull him to you by your shoulders. "We can’t die before I get a chance to tell you that I’ve always wanted you to kiss me. But if you don’t want that, just tell me. But you also might— so if you do, Simon, kiss me."

And that’s all it took for him to push you two back into the cold bathroom wall, which made you shiver admittedly, but this was perfect and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you’d freeze to death before Ruby Lane got her blade back out.

His lips were like his hands, warm and soft and inviting, and it only took the invite of your mouth parting for his tongue to glide across yours.

And this is the moment you'd always been waiting for. Because Simon Kalivoda was kissing you. Over and over, only taking short breaks to catch a breath before he pressed his mouth against you again.

But he tasted like the boy you’d grown up with. Especially that damn cherry chapstick he insisted on reapplying every two minutes.

"Simon," you said quietly, between the same gasps he’d just fought to catch.

If Tommy Slater, burlap bag and axe in hand, barged in, you would die of embarrassment before he could slash you to pieces.

He paused, still grinning like an idiot, and used those same warm hands to push hair out of your face. And then he whispered back —a small murmur of your name— and you wanted to grab his face and kiss him senseless. Again.

"Let me talk, Kalivoda."

And boy, did you have his attention.

He was still mindlessly tracing your jaw, neck, and collarbones, and finally, the pendant hanging from your neck. You knew the memory as well as he did — he’d handed you the silver piece when you were fifteen, and you’d taken it off a total of six times since.

"You’re not talking," he muttered, and your lips pressed together to suppress a smile.

You ran a hand through his hair softly, and said, "Yeah, I know." Swallowing any pride left in your throat, you proceeded.

"You are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me. You understand that, right?"

Simon nodded. "You too. I’d never share the blue gushers with anyone else."

"Okay…that means if we live through this, you have to give me all of them, agreed?"

"Only if you kiss me again," he said.

"Deal."

You’d already snaked your hands around Simon, pulling him as close to you as you could. This moment wouldn’t last forever, you knew that, but for a second, it felt like if you held each other close enough, nothing could happen.

As his tongue ran across the peak of your lips, you felt your knees tremble below you, but he carefully swiped your legs up to intertwine at his waist.

He kissed you like the first time, attentive and slow, but as your hands bunched in the wildness of Simon’s hair, he pressed his mouth against your neck and traced back to your jaw before his mouth found yours again.

Gently, your teeth sunk into his bottom lip as you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath.

His face at that moment was something you’d never forget — hazed eyes, a lazy grin, lips parted in revelation. Because damn, you tasted better than ecstasy.

But you’d have to take a picture later, you decided, when a door in the distance creaked loudly.

"Forgot we had henchmen," he said, allowing you to stand back on two feet.

"I tend to have that effect on people," you replied.

You gave each other once-overs, guaranteeing there was absolutely no trace of Sam’s blood, then pulled on your lost and found clothes with the exception that you and Simon traded shirts. It was only right.

There was no avoidance to swollen lips or the scent of almost-sex, but you smoothed down your hair. It’d work.

He planted one more kiss on your lips before pulling the bathroom door open, then pushed his hand into yours and led you back down the school hallway.

His hand was still lazily tracing circles on your palm when the girl’s bathroom door opened, and Kate and Josh walked out looking almost as bad as you two.

"No way…" Simon said.

Kate adjusted her blazer. "Calm down. It was— It was barely first base." Josh had a proud sort of little smile on his lips, and you giggled.

Lovebirds.

When Deena and Sam joined you looking thoroughly sexed up, you poked Simon in the side, but he was already ten steps ahead.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," he continued. "Did you… all go to pound town?"

Simon pressed his hand to his chest sheepishly, and gave a cute sort of wry smile.

"Me too!"

[caitlinsnow-yayyy]

Sleepy. Eepy, even.

[underburningstars]

What about a starker soulmate au where name is written on their back (Ex: P.P. t.s) tony mistakenly thinks that pepper is his soulmate. He and her dated for years until she told him the truth. Tony found peter

Hope you like it anon.

on ao3

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Pairing : Tony Stark/Peter Parker

Tags : Soulmates, Not AOU compliant, Not CACW compliant, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Mentioned Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Tony considered himself an extremely lucky man. At least in the soulmate department.

When he was a kid, he couldn't wait to meet someone with TS written on them. Just like he had PP written on his back.

Meeting Pepper Potts was an absolute blessing. He couldn't have asked for a better soulmate. She was absolutely perfect.

Even when he was being a mess, Pepper always took care of him.

More so, after Afghanistan. Though she didn't support him being Iron man, Tony knew that it was because she was worried about him.

She stayed by his side even after New York and when Mandarin.

Tony always thought that even if he lost everything, he'd always have Pepper.

That is until that one fateful night.

"I found my soulmate." Pepper suddenly said.

Tony didn't understand the meaning of this conversation, "Yes? You did. I'm sitting right here." Tony's forehead furrowed in confusion.

"No, Tony. I-we, we're not soulmates Tony." Now that Tony thought about it, Pepper never showed Tony her mark.

Tony inhaled sharply, "What do you mean, Pep?"

"Tony I'm sorry. I just-I love you Tony. Even without the soulmate name. And-and I knew it was a big thing for you. I shouldn't have hidden it from you. I'm sorry for that. I found my soulmate Tony. And I want to form a bond with him." silence filled them. None of them knew what to say anymore.

"Pep, you should leave today."

"Tony, please-"

"We'll talk tomorrow. Maybe. Or better, we wouldn't talk about this at all. Let's just pretend that you never lied to me and this is a normal break up because you found your soulmate. Technically, it's true in your case." Tony got up and went to his lab, leaving a crying Pepper alone.

That's exactly what they did. They never talked about it ever again. Pepper moved out. And they still talked about SI related stuff together. But that's it.

Tony started drinking more, much to Rhodey and Steve's displeasure and worry. But eventually, he pulled himself together.

He had to. He was Iron Man after all. The world wouldn't wait until he was over his disastrous breakup.

Steve found his extremely unstable hundred year old best friend. Tony created BARF to help him go from unstable to semi-stable.

With Barnes, Sam came too. Soulmates, a package deal. Good thing Sam was useful and funny. Tony liked him.

Steve thinks they should expand the team, with the increasing amount of threats and creative villains they're falling short. Tony agrees.

Steve brings Wanda, whose powers need working. So, Tony creates a practice arena for her. That melts her icy nature towards him.

Tony is looking for recruites too. More specifically, he is looking for a onesie wearing web slinger from YouTube.

The web slinger, it turns out is called Peter Perker (his name has PP too, his brain supplies, but Tony has stopped believing such simple things already), lives with his aunt, is a junior in Columbia, he's perfect.

Peter, as Tony understands after meeting him, is absolutely brilliant. But he lacks a considerable amount of sef preservation. Not that Tony's anyone to say that. But he never said he's not a hypocrite.

So he makes Peter a suit. Something that'll protect him from bad guys and also from himself.

Although he totally should've seen this coming, Tony didn't. He never expected to strike a friendship with Peter. But the boy's a genius and Tony can talk to him for hours without getting bored.

The only problem is the way Peter looks at him. It would be fine if it was a crush. Really, a bit of hero worship is acceptable.

But the extremely fond look in Peter's eyes say that it's much much more than simple hero worship.

The even bigger problem. It's that Tony wants to look right back at Peter in the exact same way. He wants to pull the boy close, kiss him, hold him and sometimes (often) bend him over the desk.

Tony knows he could just ask Peter what his soul mark is. Peter would tell him without a second thought. If Tony heard it from Peter that his mark isn't TS. That the PP is yet again, another coincidence, then he could just let go. But he doesn't have the courage for that. He doesn’t want to know. Doesn't want to get hurt anymore. So Tony doesn't ask him.

In the end, to save both of them from getting hurt, Tony does what any wise man would do. He avoids Peter. He stops coming to their Kab hang outs (dates) and doesn't patrol or go to missions with him any more.

Nat sometimes looks at him with narrowed eyes but to his great relief doesn't say anything.

This goes on for a month, which is longer than Tony expected, before Peter ambushes him one day. Since it's not lab day, Tony didn't expect Peter to come. And JARVIS, that traitor, didn't even warn him.

Now he's cornered in his own lab with an angry looking Peter Parker standing in front of him.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Peter asks.

"Who's avoiding you? I'm not avoiding you." Tony can see Peter's eyes twitch in annoyance.

"Tony, I'm not kidding. Why are you avoiding me?" Peter glared at him.

"I'm not avoiding you, Peter. It's just-I'm busy these days. With SI and Iron Man. I just couldn't make much time." Tony can see that Peter saw right through his bullshit.

"Oh yeah? Yiu have time to watch movies with Clint and go to the arcade with Wanda. But you're too busy for me, huh?"

"Uhh..."

"Really Tony, just-" all fight leat Peter's body as he deflated, "tell me why are you doing this? Is it my fault? Did I do something wrong?"

Tony's heart clenched at how tired Peter sounded, "No, Pete. It's-it's me, okay? I'm the problem here. So don't blame yourself."

"Then talk to me, Tony. Let's fix it. Please, I miss you." Peter whispered the last part.

"Do you know why me and Pepper broke up?"

Peter looked confused at the change of topic but replied anyway, "Yes? She found her soulmate?"

"Yeah, she did. But before that for all the years we dated I thought Pepper was my soulmate. We're both to blame. She never corrected me and I never asked for clarification. But yeah that's what happened." Tony could see realization color Peter's face, "Yes, Pete. My letters are PP. It's just that-you're so wonderful and I don't want to get rejected onc-"

"Ask me what my letters are?" Peter cut him off.

"What?"

"Come'on. Ask me. Ask me what my letters are?"

"What are your letters Peter?" Tony sighed.

"It's TS." Tony froze.

"What did you say?" to answer Tony's question Peter moved his collar a bit and there tony could see it. The TS written in bold letters.

"So, are you not gonna kiss me to-" before Peter could finish the sentence, Tony's lips were on his.

[compo67]

Sam.

Hrmm? Dean?

Wake up.

I'm up.

My stomach hurts.

I told you to stop eating cereal so late and to quit putting ice cubes in it.

This isn't I'm gonna barf hurt. It's different.

Anxiety?

Maybe.

Sugar before bed won't help it.

Lay off my goddamn cocoa puffs. It's not that.

Then what is it??

Look, Professor. What do you know about anticipatory grief.

Anticipatory grief?

You heard me.

Uh. Well. It's like grieving, but ahead of schedule.

It messes with your brain, right?

I suppose. Yes. It puts your brain into fight flight or freeze mode for an extended period of time. I'm not a psychologist though.

Kiss me, Sammy.

O-Kay, sure. Here.

Did anyone else mention how good you are at that?

A few.

I'm the only one who got to bring home gold, huh?

That's one way of putting it, yeah.

Imagine the two of us, our brains crazy with anticipatory grief, running ourselves into the ground.

I don't know where you're headed with this...

Sometimes I'm still running myself into the ground just so I can... never mind.

Dean.

Hmm.

Dean, you should kiss me.

Why?

Because.

Because why?

Because I want you to.

If I do, I'll wake up.

You're already awake.

Tell me something you haven't told me before.

Something I haven't told you before? Like that exists?

I know you keep your secrets, Professor.

Hmm. He wants a secret. Okay. I hate crunchy peanut butter.

Real mature, Sam.

I'm sorry, I didn't know you expected me to bare my soul.

Make with the secret.

Ugh, must I?

You must, you must.

Okay, Waco Kid. Listen up. I've had a lot of dysphoria in my life. That's not a secret. The secret is that I hated my body the most when I was soulless.

What? Why...

You said share a secret, don't go full Godfather and shoot it up.

I never knew.

Sorry for the snark, but it was a secret.

Okay, okay. Fair. But why? I mean. I get that you weren't you.

I've never been muscular like that. I had muscle, but that was a whole new level. It took me a few years to feel... at home in my body again. I don't know how 'I' did it, you know? Steroids? Protein shakes? Constant push ups? I don't remember.

I'm sorry, Sam.

You don't have to apologize, Dean.

Still. Why is so much of the past so painful? You'd think it'd hurt less over time, but nope. Not for yours truly.

Well, maybe it's the way you approach your past?

Sometimes, Sam, I wake up and I immediately feel lonely. It doesn't go away until I hear or feel you breathe for a few seconds.

Dean.

I want to accept loss. I want to accept that things hurt and shit fucked me up. I want to accept that I can feel peace and be a good person. That I deserve it.

You do deserve it.

Be nice if that'd sink in.

I'll make it sink in and remind you. Every single day. You deserve this. You deserve me and I deserve you. That's what happens when you choose each other.

...it is?

Absolutely.

Does looking back hurt for you?

Sorta. If I think about it too much. Or too often. I prefer to stay as present as possible. Dean, don't hog the blankets.

I'm not hogging. I'm... strategically gathering.

Whatever.

So, staying in the present. How's that working out for you?

I get plenty of kisses, that's one thing.

Kisses? What about smooches?

Gotta have the smooches.

Sam, you make me laugh.

Dean, you make me want to make you laugh.

My stomach feels better. Thank you.

Oh, good. You're welcome.

I might need a smooch though.

Here. You can have two.

[karma-vvitch]

Why do I put up with your bs?

Drabble

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: just fluff -Hey ya’ll :) It’s been so long since I’ve written something and hell it’s almost 2022. This is just brain barf cause I really need some fluff right now (and i really wanted to write something ‘^’)                                                              _

“Soooo-” 

“What did you do?”

“I BEG YOUR PARDON?!”

“I’ve known you for over 3 years, Barnes. Spit it out”

“I’m honestly hurt, can’t I just greet my beautiful lover?”

You deadpan stare at Bucky. 

“Oh c’mon, doll. I’m not hiding anything” Bucky is now full on pouting. “When have I ever lied to you, hmmm?”

“Well from this distressed text from Sam saying, and I quote ‘Tin-man was about to go in the café when he looked across the street and full on ran to the other side. AND IT WAS A GREEN LIGHT’. So, care to tell me why you ran across a street when it was a green light?” “Oh- haha, uhm. Sam’s exaggerating it! But before anything I just want to say it was for a good cause and don’t worry no one was hurt and I did not cause any damage.” “Ok that’s good to know... BUT LIKE WHY DID YOU RUN ACROSS-” Meow You stare at Bucky “Seriously?” “HEY! Like what I said it was for a good cause.” Bucky went out the door to retrieve the cat. “It was in the middle of the street, I wasn’t just gonna do nothin’ about it.” He holds up the cat pulling his best puppy dog eyes on you. “What am I gonna do with you, Barnes.” You sighed as you pet the cat.  “You can love me- I mean us” Bucky grins as you groan. “You’re insufferable” You peck his cheek “I love you too” He turns to peck your lips

Meow

“And you too”

                                                            _

[thisismrswilson]

A/N: A lil fanfic I made from the ideas I expanded for kid Sambucky to grown up Sambucky! (thanks to @logicheartsoul) A lot of words as I combined both Sam and Bucky's POV. Feel free to read! Ugh I went ahead and typed too much. So I'll leave it with a cliffhanger.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

Do not repost or edit this artwork as your own :)

Sam's POV

Sam returned from camp last week. Finally, he got his well deserved rest and ready to go for that date he's promised with on Tinder. He's hold it off many times due to his service. But today, they get to meet!

The lovely gentleman he's been talking to is Patrick. He works as an accountant, at a bank. Well, Sam is definitely counting his blessings. They have been talking the past few months and their chemistry definitely took some time but it got better! And hopefully it'll be stronger when they get to meet face to face.

Sam was scrolling through his Instagram feed when he received a call from Sarah, his sister. He picked up the call.

"What's up?"

"Hey, I received news from Darlene that your babysitter is at the hospital today. He fell down the stairs pretty badly."

"Steve?" Gosh, it has been a long time since he heard his name. He recalled his good friend as well but he don't remember his name. It may not have stick.

"Yeah, I'll text you the address."

She hung up. Oh goodness. Today was just getting good. He had enough time to prepare himself for the date but now there's an emergency. He held down his incoming barf. He wasn't excited to get up to see wound up people in the hospital and going to a date right after. Or, he should just cancel it since he doesn't have the brain capacity to do both. He sent off his text to Patrick and grabbed his coat and car keys and drive over to the hospital.

He entered the hospital main lobby, went straight to a nurse to ask for Steve's condition. She explained briefly and told him visiting hours will be in a few minutes. He sat at the lobby, looking at the wall clock second hand ticking, hoping it would tick his anxiety away. Not really working. He started looking around, scanning people. There were a few elderly with either their caretakers or their grandchildren. And on the other hand, there were a bunch of sick looking people in work attire, assumed they got emergency leave. There were a few healthy people, who may be waiting for visiting hours just like him. But let's not assume all the healthy people are healthy.

His eyes laid on a hooded man, short beard, slightly rugged looking with his hands in his pockets, looking back at him, frowning. He doesn't want to assume anything but god damn it he looks suspicious.

Bucky's POV

"Dude. Wake up." The poor tired man had been nudged awake.

"What do you want Brock? Just take the cigarettes, I don't care." He tiredly proclaimed, as he turned in his bed and stuffed his face back into his pillow.

He got fired recently. For standing up to harassment in his previous office job. Well, he's out, and filed for a report. They'll get what they deserve. Recently is 2 weeks ago. And he wasn't able to find a new job since. He hasn't even bothered to shave so much lately.

Brock, his roommate smacked him harder. "Wake up, your mom called many times. And I hate that ringtone of yours."

His head lifted quickly at the sound of his mother. And Brock will pay for insulting Green Day.

He got up, scrambling his blankets trying to find his phone. There it is! He quickly returned the call but she did not pick it up. Ugh. Classic moms. He found out she texted him news that Steve, his babysitter, was in the hospital due to a fall. Steve? Recalling his babysitter got him thinking about everyone else he met then. He clings to this other boy named Sam. He remembered. He shifted his attention away from his phone to his desk. The yellow bird plushie sitting weakly on his desk. And a little dirty. He smiled anyway. He misses him. He doesn't talk or think about him so often but he misses those days. He quickly get up to wash up and grab his coat. He entered the living room, seeing his roommate on the couch.

"Can I get a ride?" Bucky asked.

"I'm meeting the gang tonight. Get a cab or something," Brock brushed him off, focusing on the game on the tv. Bucky just sighs and left the house. Cab it is.

Reaching the hospital as stated in his mom's text, he waited casually, knowing the visiting hours, due to Brock and his gang's drunken shenanigans. He leaned against a wall. He would not have to wait long anyway. Once he was settled, he placed his hands in his pocket and patiently waited.

A man rushed into the hospital, and went to a nurse. The nurse told him to wait and he sat down, did not stop shaking his legs though. For a man with an annoying fidgeting habit, he was good-looking though. He had a huge built, prominent cheekbones, and well kept facial hair. Unlike him. He has these pretty brown eyes staring back at him- Oh goodness, he's staring. The most good-looking guy in the room is staring back at Bucky and Bucky looked like crap. How was he supposed to know hospitals had greek gods? Other than Hades, probably.

The moment it was visiting hours, he stood up and walked through the hallway. He went ahead of me because well Bucky was not in any rush, and Steve will still be there because, he obviously can't run. What he did not expect was to see the greek god by Steve's bedside. They stared at each other for good 10 seconds. Oh shit, what if he IS Hades? Bucky fell head over heels over the God of Underworld-

Sam's POV

That homeless looking man knows Steve?

"Come on in," Steve smiled at him. Without losing eye contact, he crept closer to Steve's other bed side. Steve looked at both of them oddly.

"Are you both okay? You were so close back then."

They were close? Sam knew this man?

Bucky's POV

Bucky knew the God of Underworld this whole time? Maybe that explains why his life is shit. He squinted hard to place him in his memories.

Steve burst out laughing, "stop the staring contest, both of you!"

"Sam, remember Bucky? Bucky don't you remember Sam?"

Thank goodness he wasn't Hades. Bucky took another good look at Sam and dang, he is so pretty.

Bucky took the chance to pull his hoodie back.