#sue me i love tortoises

[meowmeowriley]

Can we all add to this the unconventional pets the 141 should have? Imma drop Price's.

Price was tired of loss and death, so many good men and dogs lost on the battlefield. So many stray cats lost to the environment or illness. So many impromptu pets left behind because of geologic and health issues- you can't take the possum you'd been feeding on an American base home with you, no matter how much you love it. So many animals and friends lost to the march of time, he wanted a pet that would live as long as he did, if not longer.

Price gets a tortoise.

Not just any tortoise, a Sulcata. Third largest tortoise species in the world, fully grown he's as big as Price's torso, and heavier than most peoples dogs or children.

He builds an enclosure inside, practically takes up an entire room. Sets it up with a sprinkler system and light timers, grows grass in it for the tortoise, Valentine -yes, named after the tank. Everything was automated so that the big brute could survive his long stints away.

It wasn't until the boys of the 141 were over for a cookout that he realized how much he and Val were alike. The beast glared at anyone but Price, and would hiss and retreat into his shell if anyone came close, only to then charge forward with surprising speed to ram his shell into the walls of his pen with a loud crash. Agressive and surprisingly fast, just like Price, Ghost had said. They even looked alike, so Gaz posited, anyhow. They both look old as shit, even though they're not- alright he'd slapped the back of Soap's head for that one.

Everyone got a kick out of Price grabbing a raggedy pair of red Converse and putting them on, the shoes did not match the man, they said. When he let Valentine out and the tank of a creature followed him out the back door and into the garden, they were equal parts awed and amused. Price had spent a lot of time when Val was younger to target train him with a red ball so that he would eventually follow the color and Price wouldn't have to pick up the living boulder.

ghost who has a pet tarantula. absolutely loves her to bits. he knows she feels no affection toward him the way any conventional pet might, but he doesn’t care. ghost likes to think they’re alike—introverted, not huge on people or touch. they just exist, together.

his favourite moments are when he’s going through paperwork in his office, and she sits in her portable enclosure that he is most certainly not supposed to have on base, let alone the bigger, stationary one in his room. sometimes he’ll leave the lid off and let her climb out, and sometimes she’s interested in the movement of his pen or in climbing up his arm, and that’s all ghost needs in a pet, he thinks. cohabitation. a general understanding of one another’s being.

(soap is initially not a fan, to say the least. it’s not that he’s afraid of spiders, it’s just… a tarantula is of a considerable size for a bug, and when her tank is looming in the corner while he and ghost are cuddling… it takes some getting used to.

slowly but surely, though, soap learns to accept it. he begins to view the spider through ghost’s perspective, and honestly? he finds it kind of cute how much the lieutenant cares for her. how such a small, simple creature can make ghost happy. maybe soap could get a few pointers from the tarantula.)

[jumpybox]

Future Mikey back in time

cus I'm still on about it and have another version for it so far so here are mainly stuff that happened during it so far...I'm always up for questions/suggestions/ideas to implement! Either one day I write it or try drawing it...but writing seems more possible for me hehehe...anyway!

Michelangelo after using all his mystic powers to open the portal , somehow ends up going back in time himself

Yet its not with his own body, no, his energy and soul ends up in the Mikey from that time, and it ends up in a dormant state

Mikey during the following months starts getting nightmares of Michelangelo's future/past and his mystic powers getting stronger each passing day

At first Mikey hides it from everyone but after a sudden surge of the mystic making his arms hurt a lot, he admits to his family that he seemed to not be able to control it

Mikey soon starts getting lessons from Draxum

A few weeks after Mikey starts that, the boys get into a fight with a new mutant villain that can control plants (its a sort of butterfly mutant) 

During one of the attacks, Mikey gets thrown against a wall and gets knocked out for a few seconds

Its during that time that Michelangelo finally wakes up, opening the eyes of the body he was in, only to groan in pain 

Michelangelo during all that time had been awake and knew what was going on, if anything he feared that the body he was inside wouldn't be able to control more of the mystic power.

So while he gets help from Leo to stand up, Michelangelo decided to use his mystic powers to put a stop to the mutant.

Of course he uses them flawlessly but at the same time he had meant to do that to try and …

Michelangelo tries to stop existing, he was aware that he couldn't be a part of his younger self, it was unnatural, not how it should go.

If anything, he was pleased during those months to have been able to see Casey again, starting a new life as a normal teenager should….or as normal as someone with PTSD from an Apocalypse could be

And...he was glad to see the rest of his family, he really was, if anything he wished his Leonardo could see all of this.

The body he is in, suddenly starts to lose consciousness and he can feel part of the mystic power go out of it, at least with that Mikey will be able to slowly be able to control the mystic powers instead of being some kind of ticking time bomb because of Michelangelo.

The body faints once more and this time Mikey doesn't wake up after three days.

Michelangelo had thought that he would finally reunite with his family but instead he wakes up with a startle, coughing out water and feeling his whole body in pain and hard to move.

He questions himself if death is supposed to feel like that but once he opens his eyes, he is met with a pair of heterochromatic eyes that have tears in them.

"THANK THE ALL MIGHTY YOU ARE ALIVE MY CHILD!" The loud voice makes Michelangelo whine softly and he can hear the person holding him gasp and whisper 'sorry' before cradling him close to a chest.

And that was the first time Michelangelo met Yua ('binding love and affection') , a witch-yokai that had been experimenting for decades in the hope of being able to make a child of her own

So sue her, she might or might not have stolen Baron Draxum's idea(or papers, you can’t prove anything, everything exploded that time...she might or might not have also something to do with the lab destruction... Again, no evidence found) of super soldiers mutant and instead of soldiers, just trying to make a family for her own to raise.

Of course she wasn't really an expert or knew what was missing, but she had ended up successfully being able to create a mutant child, a Red Footed Tortoise type.

Sadly the poor thing didn't seem to have a conscious of himself and even seemed to be in a vegetable state, yet Yua refused to exterminate him, he was the first to  survive of many other types she had tried before.

So after 10 years of taking care of the body of her child (making sure of taking him out of the magic filled tank she would put him in to help with keeping his body stable, to move his limbs and exercise them) the moment she didn't think would happened, happened and that was the awakening of her child.

Of course she had been worried, she hadn't even attached the breathing gas before he took a deep breath and started to choke.

So that's how it had happened and Michelangelo or Asahi/Nikkō( 'sunlight'/'sunshine') was once more living and in a new body at that. 

He isn't sure how to feel about this second? Third? Chance in living but he guessed that he had to keep his family waiting for him for a bit longer, because he wasn't about to leave his new mom alone...stars, she was a mess and she needed him.

Nikko has to admit, the first few months he starts living with her are a bit hard on his poor body, after all, the muscles weren't fully there yet and as much as Yua copy Draxum's notes, she didn't exactly make a super soldier, sure, his body is regenerating but is not as fast as if he had been in his old body, still he is happy to slowly start moving or crawling around the first few months

And speaking! Its hard because again, this body didn't have the chance to speak during those 10 years

Its after a year of rehabilitation, love and dedication from Yua that Nikko(Michelangelo) can walk a certain amount(with help of a cane) and talk 

And Nikko has to admit, Yua is the best parent he has met in all his life...well Splinter was a good parent too but...not good good, if he had to be honest.

Yua is from Japan but moved to the hidden city many decades ago .Why? Because she just got bored and wanted a new change in her life...and maybe because she had done something that had her kicked out of her Clan.

Nikko tries to ask about the Family, Clan, but he can tell that it is some kind of a sore spot for his mom, so he instead enjoys listening to her when she talks about other stuff.

Imma keep writing more but honestly I would love more ideas! Also sorry if some phrases sound weird, I talk more in Spanish than in English, so my mind just translates some stuff weird lol

[veryimportantsparkles]

Leaf Green part 2: The Forgotten Source Reborn

I frequently say I��m a Squirtle fan.  Squirtle is my starter of choice and in nearly every Pokemon game since, I have chosen a water starter.  The exception is in 4th gen, where I picked Turtwig, specifically because it is a turtle.  When Sword and Shield released and we found out that Squirtle was not in the game (although Charmander was) I was genuinely upset.  When Squirtle (and Bulbasaur) was added back in with the DLC I was relieved.

I have a very cringe personal mythos for my Blastoise.  He is strong and brave and loyal and absolutely the best.  If Blastoise was my dad, things would be different.  His name is Tortoise, because I was ten years old and uncreative, and he was the solo powerhouse of my Blue version.  I actually remember very few of the Pokemon in my original file, because I didn’t need them.  I just overleveled Tortoise and had him Mega Punch literally everything to death.

Tragically, my Blue must have had a faulty battery or something, because one day my file was gone.  I was still ten or maybe eleven, I don’t think Gold and Silver were even out yet, this was incredibly early in Pokemon’s history and I was already experiencing accidental file death.  I tried starting over, with Tortoise Two, but the cartridge simply wouldn’t hold a save anymore.  I wasn’t TOO distraught, but I was definitely a little buttmad.  I would come up with dramatic fanfiction where my beloved Blastoise was killed by Team Rocket, as a tragic backstory for my Mary Sue trainersona who was also Ash’s girlfriend and James’s cousin.

When Fire Red and Leaf Green were released, of course I started with Squirtle.  Tortoise was reborn, and in my personal headworld he’s literally the same one.  I revived him, summoned him from a banished reality, reconstructed him from memories and love and Game Boy Advance magic.  He has continued to live a long and happy life, still in Fire Red, but maybe he’ll get to migrate up soon.  He’ll finally get to meet my Torterra, Tortoise Jr, named so because turtle starters are the best.

Because I’ve been working on my 3rd and 4th gen Pokemon games so much lately (completing as much as possible before migrating up, possibly up to 6th gen) I’ve remembered a dark little point in my history.  If I can justify Tortoise through imaginary necromancy, there’s someone else I should bring back.  Her name was Eliza.

When my dad first came home with Pokemon Blue for me, I ran straight up to my room to start the game.  Mom said I was hyperventilating and should calm down.  I did not.  I started my file, and picked a starter based on the cuteness of the sprites.  I actually picked Charmander.  Her name was Eliza, because it has ‘liz’ in the middle and she’s e liz...ard.  I took her as far as Brock’s gym and lost hard.  I reset the game, chose Squirtle instead, and cruised through the early game on type advantage.

I didn’t speak about Eliza, but not because it was a forbidden secret about my past.  I hadn’t built a personal mythos around my video games yet.  I was much more pragmatic as a ten-year-old than I am now, as a sad 32-year-old who is writing long Tumblr posts about necromantic turtle dads.  I just didn’t want to let the other kids at school know I sucked at training a Charmander.  I had been reading up on Pokemon in Nintendo Power for most of the year before getting the game, and I should have known better.  I knew the type chart, I should have known to train a little more.  As an adult, I also now know about the other various Pokemon available at that point in the game that could’ve made the fight easier.  But as a ten-year-old I was dumb as hell and pushed that file reset to the back of my mind.  Squirtle is my starter.

As a side note, at some point I had a copy of Red as well, and did have a Charmander in that one.  I shared that cartridge with my siblings and straight up do not remember anything about that file.  I don’t think anything was nicknamed.  That whole experience is walled off in my brain as non-canon.

Now, in my new Fire Red I have reconstructed Eliza.  I did some resetting to get a female Charmander and she’s doing well.  I decided to make it a goal in this file to catch all female Pokemon whenever possible, with exceptions made for that sacrificial Machop and for any gift Pokemon with randomized genders.  They’re going to have normal-person names that tie into their species in some cutesy way whenever possible.  I named my character ‘Rose’ (my middle name) in this file to distinguish it from all the ‘Megan’ OTs on my other Pokemon, and that will be the surname for this group.  Eliza Rose and her sisters.  They’re coming home.

It was VERY WEIRD to do the first rival fight, by the way!  I never experience the Gary battle with the Squirtle on his side instead of mine.  I never see the front sprite for Squirtle because I have the Squirtle.  I named my rival ‘Josh’ as a joke, and I laid in bed with the real Josh while I played.

“This feels so weird,” I said, “He has my Squirtle.”

“It’s my Squirtle,” said Josh.

“No it’s my Squirtle.  I pick Squirtle, I always have Squirtle.”

“Nope, I have Squirtle.  My Squirtle.”

“My Squirtle!”

“Nah, my Squirtle.”

How dare he, he doesn’t appreciate Squirtle.  Josh is a Bulbasaur picker, he has no business taking my Squirtle.

[thestrandedrpg]

MERIDIUM NEWS: FEBRUARY

News travels through the air on the island like salt on a sea breeze. Here is the gossip currently circulating as of February 10, 2022. Read on below the cut!

GENERAL NEWS / NOTICES:

HOT FARM TAKES: only the hottest gossip on the hottest farms of Meridium.

We would like to report that TOMAS HARDY is looking for more farmworkers.  Requirements: a willingness to listen to his lectures about soil erosion and Meso-American irrigation grain treatments, weeding the whatsit garden - for WEEDS, not the herbs, what're you stupid? Climbing unsteady ladders to pluck only the sweetest oranges for his lady-love, and an ability to not like commit bloody murder and get banished forever.

We would also like to report that BEV & JACOB are also looking for farmworkers.  Requirements: a willingness to whistle songs about Matthew Alphonsus while you work, an amiable and happy smile to greet your fellow co-workers no matter what, and to never, ever question Kotka's decisions, even when she pulls you out of farm work to train with a spear.  For hunting, of course.  What're you thinking? COCONUT COUTURE: In fashion, you’re either in or you’re out. But we’re only saying auf Wiedersehen to winter as our islanders prepare for a chic and sleek spring! At one end of the island catwalk, we have Miss Tamrya Williams. Tamyra has been slowly re-building her wardrobe and is wowing us with the long-sleeved look. Both elegant and practical, Tamyra can go from day to island disaster with only a mere modification. New mystery or monster to tackle? Never fear! The silk ties on the ends of her sleeves allow her to adjust the length, keeping Tamrya’s wardrobe classy AND functional! A pair of salvaged cat-eyed sunglasses in a blue tortoise shell pattern adds a distinct flourish to her look. Miss Williams offers no further comment, as her clothes say it all. Speaking of sunglasses, Kaz Raval is rocking a vintage pair of round shades with one of the red lenses missing. Asked about his exciting trendsetting turn, he tells us, ‘They’re broken but I’m wearing them anyway.’ When pressed for further comment, he says: ‘Go away’. Kaz compliments the ensemble shirtless as usual and wearing a floral sarong.However, the show-stopper look this week is from OG supermodel Tomas Hardy. He is ushering in the busy spring season with an unexpected accessory: a repurposed seed sack as a baby carrier! But get this: there is an actual lagoon baby inside! Tomas could not be reached for comment, but we have one: our ovaries just exploded. Well done! MISSED CONNECTION / CASUAL ENCOUNTER: You were the sassy little minx who shot fire at a tree in the mountains. I was the fire. In between the cursing and spitting on the ground, I thought I heard your friend call you Toni. Was it just me, or did our eyes connect? Did you feel something too? I’d love to see you again. Hit me up. 

NOTICE OF LEGAL ACTION: Tamyra Williams, superstar to the stars themselves, does hereby give notice that she intends to sue the pants off of Libby Blum (Esq) for her inadequate work as a spotlight-bearer. Said employee used a clump of burning rags as the light, never adequately illuminated Ms. Williams' more dramatic profile, and at the end of her twenty-seven minutes of employment was heard to declare, "I was just passing time till lunch. Take this job and shove it, Tammytam." Ms. Williams would forthwith like to blacklist her former employee from ever working in the industry again, although she is willing to settle the case for a fish supper. A good fish, not those ugly little sardine-looking ones that taste like mud. FOUND: A list a faire, AKA a to-do list, written in French. Translation as follows: To do: - visit train, 3rd compartment. more hidden. - give Joaquin a 5 figs - relocate t-- to second cave - ask K-- about the pouch of s-- - gather more s-- from storage.  rice. barley - tell B-- about J-- wish to take the food for I-- and hide - pretend to talk to T-- within K--'s sightline - saanp No translation of the word 'saanp' found in French. If this list belongs to you, please retrieve from the fifth branch of the heartfire tree, tucked between the twigs. We're waiting~

COME ON DOWN to the foot of the Fisher's/Fisherman's/Fishwife's Hut and pick up a COLLECTOR'S BADGE for the side of the island fight you're on! Those choosing TEAM ALPHONSUS (badge: a scallop shell buffed to a high polish to be worn by the throat) will be gifted a palmful of flavourless mush, sprinkled liberally with gunpowder. Delicious, nutritious, and full of Matthewly goodness. You will also be given a small conical cap made of rat felt dyed red with an M stitched onto it as a symbol of your devotion! For those saying it looks like a Super Mario logo no it doesn't. Those choosing TEAM UNBELIEVING HERETIC SCUM (badge: a tetanus-laden sliver of the plane) will be given nothing because you have chosen to live outside of the Garden! Matthew bless you in your ignorance. SEEKING FLATMATE: Room available in hut, new construction. Conveniently located near the Hardy Farm district and directly adjacent to the brand new island clinic. Ever worry about a sore throat, splinter, or stubbed toe? Worry no more as your roommate will be able to provide all the on-call medical services required.    I am: A professional 30-something male. Clean, Fungi-friendly, tolerant of Alphonsians (who are okay with living on Tomas’ Farm property), not a murderer, allergy-free and open to pets. Looking to fill the space recently left as my current roommate situation fell through. I cannot provide details or references. My interests include cooking and surviving day to day with the unbearable weight of it all.  You: Any gender. Any age. Must be tolerant of hosting possibly dying patients, and disposing of cadavers without complaint.    All Meridium amenities included. Meridium amenities being: -a dry roof -a palm mat -open kitchen layout -heat, mostly from the open kitchen flame -one cooked meal a day.   No cost as money means nothing. May be expected to cuddle in addition to cadaver transportation.

SPECIAL REPORT OF THE DAY: Our intrepid island Dr Akbar has been working medically and scientifically hard, thoroughly cataloguing what's bait and what's proper peng on the island.  A long and arduous process with stunning results.  Please attend his weekly lecture series where he lists his findings, and you might even find yourself catalogued as either 'bait' or 'peng'.  Guaranteed to immediately enrage you, but then he's got that really charming smile and big brown sad eyes, so you can't really stay mad at him for long.   MERIDIUM MUSICALE MAGICAL: We have a Valentine's Day mixtape playlist sent in from a secret admirer!  The playlist was sent in by 'K-' with a message:  'I WILL GET YOU FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE' This romantic gesture is dedicated to none other than Meridium's resident non-resident, the invisible investigator, the lucid elusive himself: Kaz Raval!(do not send us speculations whether the mysterious admirer 'K-' is indeed Kaz himself.  There's nothing wrong with narcissism.) Without further adieu! Enjoy your tunes, Kaz Raval: Creep - Radiohead Creep - Tears for Fears Creep - Pretenders Creep - Sophie Koh Creep - Karen Souza Creep - Damien Rice Creep - Brandi Carlisle Creep - Amanda Palmer Creep - Macy Gray Creep - Michelle Branch special bonus: Creep - TLC

SEMINARS & LECTURES: "But He's Peng": A Roundtable Discussion on Hooking Up with Emre You won't want to miss this inflammatory and informative event, which due to general outcry and protest has been relocated from its planned presentation at the Obelisk and is now near that mud patch the pigs are tired of. Speakers include Tamyra Williams, Kaz Raval, one woman with an outrrrrageous French accent who insists on wearing a full-face mask, and a prepared statement from Genevieve Alphonsus. Questions from attendees will ONLY be allowed through a lottery system, which means whoever Kaz arbitrarily thinks should be allowed to speak. Should he reject you, please return to your seat with a sense of understanding instead of protesting that Mr. Raval is "dickstruck".

LOOKING FOR: Cian Codona.  No seriously, where is that guy?  Last time we saw him, Cian was flying through the clouds like an octopus being thrown ten feet in the air.  Can octopuses scream? Cian could, when he crash-landed - for the third time - back on Meridium terra firma. We haven't seen the leggy little bugger since. Anyone in the mood for calamari?

SEEKING: experienced drummer for Meridium start-up band.  Preferably unwashed and unkempt and thick callouses on the soles of their feet.  Nails like talons is a bonus.  Ability to clog and loudly cackle at the same time, scaring any and all seagulls in the vicinity  Interested applicants, please send morse code message with via the earth towards the sea stairs.  Gigs guaranteed!

FARM FOOD FESTIVAL In what he has been laboriously convinced is a good PR move, Tomas Hardy presents the first Meridium Food Fest! Bring the whole family for such wholesome, informative activities as: - turning the chickenshit pile! (may include surprise other types of animal dung) - blind taste-testing goat milk samples to discern which goat got into the onion patch! - playing the "how close to the distillery before you pass out from fumes" game! Light refreshments will be provided as Tomas himself has consented to prepare an intense amount of jamaica drink and stewed pigeon peas. Actually that is all that Tomas consented to do. It's Madi Byrd who will be the host and guide for all of these activities and the entire Food Fest. Please be kind to her and when you see her getting visibly overcome with anxiety, offer her a cooling cloth or a kind word about her bees!

CHARITY DRIVE: Miss Hazel Beaufort is calling for donations! If you have any lightly used decorative tins, pieces of bottles, gourds, cups, etcetera, please bring them to her at the tree that looks like a vampire hand if you're standing at a certain angle. Items that are pretty are of the highest value. These will be received with glad thanks and some pressed flowers! [ Ed. Note: it has come to our attention that Miss Beaufort intends to give these items to a group of hermit crabs too inept to find their own new shells. We do not endorse this, being strict Darwinists. ]

OBELISK EYE NEVER CLOSES! This week our Obelisk Operatives (ObOps) have collected the following mysteries! So pull out your magnifying glass, write in the sand, and let's do some sleuthing. - One ObOp noticed Madi Byrd carrying mewling hippogriffs up the cliffside. Sacrifice? Safety?  Or more likely:  Madi is a secret ancient Babylonian hippogryff goddess who just gave birth to the end of times? Your guess is as good as ours, but keep your eye on the sky for winged lions doing her bidding. - THE LAGOON HAS SPOKEN.  DID YOU HEAR IT?  If you have, you're so special omg, luckyyyyy. - Another ObOp is reporting a state of emergency.  Vines.  Vines!  VINESEVERYWHERE!!!!  The Obelisk's lidless eye has turned to Libby 'Vine-o-rama-mama-jama' Blum for answers.  Beware her spit, it's made of pure plant-venom. And she gobs it often, usually directed at your face if you come too close. - Once again Amelia has been spotted!  Then she wasn't. Any other news to report?  Become an ObOp or risk being spied on!  Always remember:  T̶̪͋̓́̂͌̀̾͆͠H̷̺̙̥̟̼̿Ĕ̸̱͇̮̬̄̒̓̍̓̃ ̴̡͕̗͕̱͈̘͛́͋̀̈́̀̚͠͠ͅȎ̶̞̙͈͉͈̙̥͒͒̐̒͜͜B̸̧̪̀̎̃̓̉̌͠͝Ę̴͔͚̰̠͖̠̘͒̌̂͑̓́̓͝L̷̨͇̺̣̜̾̋̊̀̀͜Į̴̛̮͇̭͙̠̣̱̓̏S̴̡̗̦͚̠͖̺͋̉̾K̸͙̜̠̬̟͇͂́̎̀̒̑̇͜͝ͅ ̸̞̗̺͍̥̒̊̊̾̕͝͠͝E̵̯̺̼̤͉͉͆̄̈́́͝Ỹ̷͎̦̟͉̗̞̊͘E̷̖̫̫͂̑̽̋̈́͠ ̸͉͙̥͂̐̈́͛̊͠N̴͈̾͠È̷̬̜̘̘̇̑̈́̍͋͂͌̔͠Ṽ̴̫̰̥͓̱͕͓͆̐̈́Ȩ̸̛̦͈̗̯̘̫͙̇̀̌̾̑͊R̴̼̣̃̈́͊͠ ̸̡̖̝̬̝̊̈̕C̴̰̰̉̄̃̑͒Ļ̶̢̱̬͇̻̈́̔̈́͋̽O̵̼͍͔͂S̴̭͍̆̉͘̕E̶̮͓̯͕̓͌͋̋̉̓S̸̤̞̘͙̘͂̎̎̇̿̽͆̎̊͝!̴̣̪͈̜̲̈́̾̂̐̍̍͊͊͝

DEAR MS. MERIDIUM:

Anonymous islanders are invited to voice their questions, complaints, and compliments to the island itself. Replies are not guaranteed.

Dear Ms. Meridium: 

I would like to form an intramurals club. I think it would be cool if we played this game I invented called sand banana. It's played with a banana skin stuffed with rocks and tied up again, and you bury it in the sand and then you hump the sand with your butt and try to find it. I think we should only play it with hot people like Tamyra Williams and Kaz Raval. 

Yours beachily, It's A Herb Not a Fruit

***

Dear Ms. Meridium,

More and more people seem to be convinced that Matthew was some holy person, but how can they not notice the real holy woman on the island? Esther glows with golden light anytime I see her, she can make the ground shake below her fingertips, and I am certain that the ghost of Matthew everyone is fawning over was created by her and nobody else! She is the real deal, the one to pay attention to, and nobody seems to notice. Oh Ms. Meridium, how could people be so blind around me? Maybe this will open their eyes, though! 

Eternal thanks if you post this,  Someone Who Can See The Truth ***

Dear Ms. Meridium, 

I had a dream that you spoke to me about your favorite food (the cries of the ones suffering on your lands) and your favorite drink (the blood spilled out of malice or anger), and I woke up with a recipe in my head about how to please you and make breakfast for you, only to realize it might not be the best idea. And yet, now I crave it. Am I becoming you? Am I becoming a vampire? Are you a vampire in the form of an island? Or am I still just dreaming as I write this? 

Keep dreaming yourself, A fan

***

Dear Ms. Meridium, 

I find myself in a predicament. I noticed recently that Kaz Raval has spent more and more time on the farm while I work, and I seem to be unable to take my eyes off of him and his hair. I am mesmerized by it. The locks, the shine, the way it waves around in the wind! I want to reach into it and run my fingers through it. I want to braid it. I want to play with it. Does anyone feel the same way? Oh how I wish I could learn his secrets and turn my hair into such beauty as well! 

A sad resident who will never have good enough hair

AO-TREE

The latest Meridium fanfiction submissions can be found pinned to the back of the Heart Tree. Let’s check out the latest titles!

TITLE: starlight above RATING: G SUMMARY: lily was told that the night one turns twenty-one out in the world, it's a big celebration and a time for a party. hers is spent trucking through the jungle she's known her entire life. but at night she finds a good spot up at the trees, watches the starts and talks to the island. suddenly, the island speaks back (canon divergent)

TITLE: am i in the right place? (are you the right guy?) RATING: T SUMMARY: iyaz's first day in college is a disaster. he is late for class, he yells at a guy who turns out to be his professor, all of his books get ruined, he loses his wallet, a conversation with his peer questions his reasons for being in med school in the first place, oh, and by the end of it he is sexiled from his room. at least the ra, whose room he shows up at so he wouldn't have to spend the night on the hallway, is hot though! //college!au, iyazxtomas rare pairing

TITLE: nada se compara con esto RATING: G SUMMARY: joaquin finds a baby with tomas written in his blanket on the steps of the church. he only intends to bring him home for a night before he sets out to find the baby's parents, but somehow ends up adopting him with his longtime roommate, aurélie. raising a random baby from the streets with your roommate is completely platonic activity! or is it?

TITLE: history repeats RATING: T TITLE: no finds a strange bottle in her distillery and ends up drinking it. once she wakes up the next day, she is back in the past a month before her departure to meridium. can she change the past and figure out a way to not end up on meridium when anytime she wants to divert from her path, the world around her actively fights back to make sure magnolia beaufort ends up stranded on meridium along with her companions like she should?

TITLE: three is company RATING: E SUMMARY: a collection of short stories where libby and tomas take their friends to bed. emre, tamyra, kaz, toni, seamus chapters are up, coming up next is esther! nothing but smut here

TITLE: alone i stand RATING: G TITLE: amelia dalton has always felt most comfortable alone, but what does one of the most reclusive characters of the show, stranded, spends her days with? a day in amelia the way i imagined it and what is really missing from the show

TITLE: do you wanna build a snowman? RATING: M SUMMARY: Princess Hazel of the Shining Valley gets snowed in at the winter cottage all alone with her first lady in waiting, Madison. The two of them spend the time building snowmen, making snow angels, explore snow dunes. a snowball fight leads to some interesting events and feelings that neither of them thought were possible might get revealed

TITLE: in any life, i will find you (and i will love you) RATING: E SUMMARY: a thousand years ago tomas was cursed to lose the most precious thing he has ever held in his life and he laughed it off. a few years later he meets libby again and everything changes. this is a collection of vignettes with tomas and libby through the years as tomas (unable to ever die) has to watch libby die and get reborn over and over again, and he attempts to get the love of his life to fall in love with him each time

TITLE: these violent delights RATING: E TITLE: one dark night aurélie marchand runs into a bruised and bloodied emre akbar, and their entire life changes. a war at full force around them and the two of them on two opposing sides, can they find a way to survive and keep at each other's side? historical!au

TITLE: all coming back to me now RATING: G SUMMARY: helena has never thought a fancy party could end up with her in tamyra william's bed. by the end of the next morning she never wants to see the woman again, and yet three years later the actress ends up on her doorsteps again by chance and the next 48 hours for both of them is crutial and will determine both of their futures. noislans!au

KIDDIE CORNER!

Riddles, songs, and games to keep those restless island kiddos entertained!

RIDDLE ME THIS Consider this conundrum:  Maura Gallagher teaches social science in her classroom at 10:00am on a sunny day.  Within her classroom sits one boy on a chair, and a baby in a cradle.  Who learns quicker: the baby, the boy...or Mrs Gallagher?

Answer: Matthew's spirit, lurking outside the schoolhouse because social science only gained popularity in the early 19th century so it's about his learning speed.

SONG TIME! There's a new song the children of Meridium have been singing recently!  Want to learn the lines and sing-along?  Gather round and here we go! Lily Lily Takahashi Lily Lily Blum Find her in the lagoon Lily Lily Takahashi Lily Lily Blum Say her real name soon Bone knife or pool Lily Lily Huh???? Dive for glory or for gloom

FUN & GAMES Here’s your mission: help Ms. Libby get out of the Labyrinth!!!

[Ed. Note: Ms. Libby would like to express her discontent at her, quote, “real-life, thirty-year shitshow being turned into a kiddie game.”]

[renfri]

instructions: tag 10 blogs you want to get to know better

tagged by  @rabentochter​ + @rhodee​ <3

name: sae (nickname. u get my real one if u gib me kisses)

gender: female

height: 5′3″... i think

sexuality: i might sound crazy but it ain’t no lie, baby bi bi bi 

favourite animal:  a) this is a dumb question b) bunnies, deers, cats, big cats, wolves, bears, horses, tortoises

average hours of sleep: UUUUUUUUHM. probably like. 5-6 hours. but then i’ll have a random catch-up day where i sleep 12-18 hours depending on how exhausted i am.

dogs or cats: cats. my irl bestie has a doggo tho n i love him. i’m just afraid of a lotta dogs tbh but i love them from afar lololol.

current time: 14:27 (yes i like the 24h clock, sue me.)

when i made this blog: UHHHH. june 2017 apparently. but i was inactive bc i spent all my time on my 1d acc. and then i quit tumblr for a good year or something. just got back last month and decided to properly delve into mcu tumblr this time!!

why i made this blog: this blog? for my shadowhunters (read: magnus bane) obsession. my first ever blog? depression.

reasons for URL: idk. many random reasons. 1) i like the moon 2) i used to be softmoonbane and then i got ‘softmoon’ on ao3 and shadowhunters was over, so i just became softimooni. i think i’ll stick with it. 3) i threatened @/softmoon to give me their url but they left me on read

tagging: hmmmm. everyone’s probably done this/been tagged already buuuut @captainjanegay @nekoironman @brucewyane @lgbtonystarks !!! feel free to not do it. and also, if u see this, feel free to do it (and tag me so i get to know u too teehee).

[glittercake]

The “What kind of event is this for” post got me thinking about Sambucky — where they have an on-again, off-again relationship and Sam shows up to Bucky’s apartment dressed up like that to pick up his belongs... 🥵

This Post!  Damn, you got me so inspired Anon, that I wrote a quick ficlet for this idea! Here you go:

M | 907w | no warnings just foolery.

Sam swears Bucky's got some kind of magic dick to make a man act like this. 

It's good, dick. Not magical. 

So why's he dressed in lace with his ass out then? Why's he standing dressed in lace with his ass out in front of Bucky's door? Why? 

Because maybe he fell in love harder than he planned to. Maybe he got scared when he realized this shit's serious, and maybe the thought of Bucky with anyone else feels like nails down a chalkboard. 

And this is so excessive. This is ridiculous. But Bucky's always reminding him what his best assets are, what an A-grade piece of ass he's got, how nice his tits look in tight shirts. So why not show him what he'd be missing if they break up.

Sam drops the overcoat he wore to hide all this thottery and tugs on the bralette's underside to make sure it's all neatly in place, then he pulls the lacy not-pants down just enough to expose his V. 

And then he rings the doorbell. 

There’s a shuffling inside. He would pray that Bucky's neighbors don't come strolling out into the hallway right now, but he thinks the good Lord's had enough of the two of them. 

"Sam?" comes Bucky's voice from behind the peephole. The door flings open a second later, and almost instantly, Bucky's jaw drops to the floor. 

"Hi," Sam says, entirely nonchalant, not even making eye contact, "Came to get my stuff." 

And then before Bucky collects himself or says a word, Sam's sauntering inside to the bedroom. He starts folding his shirts and collecting his toiletries and packing it in his duffle with the spirit of a tortoise stuck in peanut butter. He couldn't possibly move any slower. 

All the while, Bucky's hovering in the doorway, gaping, not even trying to keep his eyes off Sam's lace-covered ass. 

Finally, he says, voice raspy and distracted, "Sam. What are you doing??" 

"What's it look like, stud?" he shimmies over to the closet and unhooks his nightgown and shrugs, "We broke up, just getting my stuff so I can get outta your hair." 

And then Bucky gives a long-suffering sigh. He folds his arms over his chest and pins Sam in place with that icy, winter glare of his. 

"Sweetheart," he says, leaning against the door jamb now, "Dollface…" the rest hangs in the air between them. Because he knows Bucky knows he's full of shit, and Bucky knows he knows Bucky knows. 

Sam blinks at him over his shoulder, "What?" 

Then Bucky's stalking closer, slow and measured steps that make Sam's insides feel like quicksilver and his head feel like candy floss. He's so big, could easily just envelop Sam where he stands, he could… and Sam would let him.

"What?!" Sam snaps, feigning impatience, but really it's deep, hot want consuming him. 

"What are you doing here?" He's standing right up in Sam's business now, almost pressed to his side. His eyes make a pointed journey down Sam's body and back up, "Like this?"

Sam inhales deeply and turns his head away from temptation, faux-indignant, and says, "Showing you what you're missing letting me go." and maybe his ass does a little jiggle just then. He huffs, "Letting a good man go. All the shit I'd do for you. All the nasty shit I'd do for you—"

"You—" Bucky interrupts, leaning in, arms still folded, and Sam smells his spicy cologne and his coconut conditioner, and he almost feels the bliss of Bucky's lips against his skin "—broke up with me." 

Well. Okay fine. Maybe he did. Maybe he is awfully dramatic, sue him. 

"I ain't see you fight? Did you fight for it? I didn't see you fight," he rambles off, getting nervous now; he knows Bucky sees right through the bullshit.

A low rumble bubbles up from Bucky's throat, a subdued laugh, and then he leans down. He presses those curved lips to Sam's shoulder, soft, tender, just lingering there. 

"You said to leave you alone, dollface," he says, "Said 'don't call, don't text' and walked your gorgeous ass out my door."

Sam sways, swallows hard when he feels Bucky's hands on his hips, his fingers slipping under the delicate lace of his not-pants. 

"Since when do you ever listen—" Sam gasps when Bucky's lips make a detour to his neck; he feels like melting, "—ever listen to a word I say?"

Bucky kisses just below his ear, lets his tongue dart out ever so slightly, "I can start right now, honey," he says, "Why don't you tell me what the fuck you want, huh?"

"I—I want," but Bucky's hands are sliding up his sides, slow warm sweeps, rocking against him like he's swaying to a tune only the two of them can hear. 

"Hm?" Bucky's arms wrap around his waist, holding him close, nosing at the back of his neck.

"Want to stay," Sam says, finally, and he turns in Bucky's arms to crash their lips together.

As always, it's fiery and wild and leaves him entirely breathless when Bucky kisses back. 

It's annoying, and it's perfect, and he knows they'll never get enough of each other. They'll figure this out as they go, and there's bound to be hiccups along the way. 

Hopefully, not the kind that ends with him half-naked in a public building again.

Not that he regrets even a second of this lace riding up his ass. 

[pixelatedrose]

Soulbound Au Canons

These are some random cute canons from my Soulbound Au!

Virgil is a natural blonde boi

Roman has adhd

Remus is surprisingly clean

Logan has a horrible memory for things that matter

Patton is short squish boi

Remy is cheer captain

Remy has a bracelet he never takes off. Everyone assumes its some cute memento or something but it's just a steel plate engraved with "Remy McKloud. If lost or drunk at party please call (Emile's number). His boyfriend misses him."

Thomas is best older brotherTM

Virgil can sing

Patton owns three fish named Bloop, Blop, and Blip and a snail named Glen

Logan owns three cats named Neon, Cobalt, and Greg

Roman has a pet parrot named Princess

Remus has a tortoise named Bridgit (and he loves her)

Dee has a little pomeranian named Missy which is short for Missile Launcher 4000

Thomas has two mice named Guss-Guss and Jaq

Virgil loves bats and thinks they're the most adorable creatures ever. If he owned one he would name it Kiwi.

Patton is left handed

Virgil's favorite movie is Lilo and Stitch

Roman and Logan are a lot stronger than they look because they took ballet together for a very long time and had to lift ballerinas all the time

Okay so i got a little obsessed with the fact that they should have pets. Sue me. It's adorable.

It's fairly short rn but I'll probably add to it as i go cause heaven knows my brain can't stay away from shitty headcanons. Except when you're the author they're just canon. So. That's fucking trippy.

Anyway i love y'all, stay fresh and minty my fellow fanders!! 💛

@anxietea-and-insanitea @ghostboi-bambi @scrunchiescrunchie @badluckkaren @ambrechandra @nadja-chamack16 @athenashipsthings @slitherynchiken @crooked-harmony-student @icequeenoriginal @just-a-hufflepuff @nerd-in-space @sammys-ghostz @nutsanddults

[sparklecarehospital]

could you maybe ramble off some fun facts about the characters? i rlly love learning abt them and it calmz me down a lot 4 some reason.. if u dont have the energy its ok!!

You have NO IDEA how excited this ask makes me because I LOVE talking about everyone so here's some stuff about Uni and Barry!!! (Also don't worry about me not having energy this is like all I can talk about sometimes)!!!!!!

Barry:

Reads and writes fan fiction about Bingo Bongo Theory, has a crush on Shelldon (a tortoise) and gets mad if you call him a turtle. He actually likes writing a lot, but he's honestly TERRIBLE at it, using overly complex words and bad sentence structure. He thinks he's great and has fun though which is honestly really valid and good

His favorite flower is lavender

His favorite color is orange

Has vivid dreams, usually about situations he's in (like the hospital). He also dreams about people obsessively when he has feelings for them and it makes him really mad. He's had prophetic dreams and they make him really paranoid and it feeds into the fact he thinks he knows everything.

Actually very affectionate if you're close with him, he will give hugs to people if he trusts them but he struggles immensely with touching hands directly unless he trusts you more than anyone on the planet (so if he wants to hold hands with you he's probably deeply in love with you)

He likes 5980's music (which is 80s music on Earth) and is embarrassed about it because he feels it's not good for his Intellectual and Sophisticated Image.

He actually feels a lot of anxiety over some of his interests because he's worried about people thinking less of him.

Has a unicorn stuffed animal named Corny that he was given as a baby

Vegan!!! He doesn't like products that come from orbs.

LOVES when people actually listen to him infodump because it doesn't happen very often!!! He loves talking about science and different kinds of it, especially stuff like outer space and stars and constellations. It fascinates him endlessly and he wants to learn more about the universe

Favorite subject in school was science, still is

He doesn't like saying swear words and this means he won't call the Bitch Sea by its name. He calls it the Dog Sea instead

Uni:

His favorite colors are pink and green

Has a really specific nervous stim which is clenching his upper arm (either one, but usually the left). If he does this he's really nervous or anxious or upset, and it helps him feel better to kinda shield himself like that. (I draw him doing this a lot)

His favorite vegetable and food in general is carrots and anything of the carrot variety. But he doesn't liked canned carrots at all

Favorite flower is roses

Has an OC universe called the Glooneeverse that focuses on his OC named Gloo Mee and one named Sue Nee. Gloo is a cat who lives in a raincloud and cries constantly, and Sue is a dog that is happy and lives in a cloud house with sunshine constantly radiating from her. Gloo and Sue are OCs that Uni has had since elementary school that he used to make comic strips about. He has a lot of little comic books he's made over the years at the hospital about the two of them. He doesn't like sharing them though because he doubts his art a lot.

Always technically crying blood but when he ACTUALLY cries he gets it literally everywhere. He needs to wash things a lot because of getting blood on them (sometimes including Bearry). It's usually his pillow case or gown

He makes puppets of his friends and practices conversations with them whenever he's lonely or needs someone to talk to but doesn't wanna leave his room- which is actually most of the time, he only leaves to eat or go to club or OT. He doesn't loiter around like Carrie does because he's kinda introverted and gets anxious if he's out of his hospital room for too long.

Has really bad insomnia and sometimes passes out from lack of sleep. He takes meds for it but they don't really help. When he does sleep he usually has nightmares

He doesn't need his glasses to get around the hospital because he's memorized the layout, he only uses them when he's making art or gaming or something. He actually doesn't even know what some new patients look like outside of color because what little vision he has is blurry and dim. If he were to leave he'd be REALLY lost and need guidance by someone with good vision

Develops feelings for people really easily. If someone's nice to him he will probably get a crush on them (in the event that they are also a guy) but sometimes he just likes guys randomly. He's had a crush on most guys in the hospital at some point but most of them have faded or become less prominent/irrelevant. The feelings he gets are never very serious and he's actually never been genuinely in love with anybody before!!!!!!

Likes music that is upbeat and poppy and dancey, because it gets him inspired to make art. But he doesn't actually like to dance, just sit there and listen to the music

(almost forgot this really specific one) HAS A HORRIBLE HORRIBLE HORRIBLE FEAR OF ALIENS. Literally horrible. Talk of aliens or UFO sightings makes him REALLY scared, and he hates sci-fi things that have aliens in them. He actually has nightmares about aliens a lot.

HATES horror movies and anything violent, like violent video games. He struggles with playing games where you have to kill enemies because he gets super sad about hurting them. He can play Orbemon though (Spinch Pokemon)

Regarding each other:

Uni is baby spoon when they cuddle

They like looking at the stars together

Barry likes to watch Uni draw and make art

Uni encourages and tries to help Barry improve his writing even if he struggles to comprehend what it says sometimes

They sometimes listen to music together

Uni likes watching top 10 list videos and will put on sciencey ones for Barry to watch with him. Barry really enjoys that!!!

When either of them have a nightmare they go to the other's bed and talk about it and hug it out and sometimes will sleep in the others bed if they're too scared to be alone even after talking about it

They actually like being together a lot. Uni felt really lonely before Barry came, and Barry didn't have a roommate at school either. Even when they're not talking they just enjoy knowing somebody is there if they need to talk

Sorry this took so long for me to write, I'm pretty sure I spent over an hour on it and it's not even everything I could say about them!!! Sorry if this fills anyone's dash idk how to do read more on mobile

[magpiefngrl]

What's your favourite Harry Potter headcanon (can be drarry or not)?

Hello little tortoise!

Gosh this is a hard one. I tend to form my headcanons while writing, or otherwise when I read other people’s fics and read about something that resonates with me and go, “but of course!” (or the opposite may happen and I vehemently disagree with something).

But I think, my most important HP headcanon is that Harry ends up happy and with a family. I think he really wants a family; even if he fucks some things up, as all people do because no parent is perfect. He deserves more than anyone to be happy. And I also like to think that Draco ends up happy. His admission in the Cursed Child that he was lonely as a teenager really moved me (and has hugely influenced the way I see him) and I like to imagine him with a happy family when he’s older.

So no matter how it happens, if Harry is an Auror and Draco is a rentboy who gets arrested; if Harry’s lost after the war, getting drunk in bars, and he meets Draco in one who’s about to start studying in the magical Sorbonne and they have one-night-stand which turns into a long-distance relationship; if Draco buys Grimmauld Place to turn into escape rooms and Harry sues him and they end up married and owning a business of escape rooms; if one of them is a werewolf and the other a vampire and their clans hate each other; if they fake date to throw the press off; if they’re happy with their canon wives, or happy with each other, or in love with whoever else people pair them with, what I like to imagine is that both Harry and Draco end up being happy and loved.

Probably this isn’t as exciting as you might have anticipated. It’s also likely that once i hit ‘post’, ten better headcanons will come to my mind, but that’s what usually happens. L’esprit d’escalier and all that. 

Thanks for the ask!

messages from curious anons

[sailingalongthesethoughts]

Playlist: Tony Stark

In the aftermath of Endgame all I want to do is reminisce on the characters that changed my life. Tony is one of those characters, obviously. I tried really hard to do him justice, deleting and adding songs over and over to get a good grasp on his personality. Yeah, there’s a lot of sad songs. Yeah, there’s a lot of the “emo trinity”. Sue me. Actually don’t. I’m broke.

Shots - Imagine Dragons

Run Boy Run - Woodkid

Pet Cheetah - twenty one pilots

Oh Glory (Demo) - Panic! at the Disco

Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel In NYC) - Fall Out Boy

Chucky vs. The Giant Tortoise - Dance Gavin Dance

Nobody’s Hero - Black Veil Brides

Run - AWOLNATION

Explode - Patrick Stump

Dare - Phildel

Believer - Imagine Dragons

still feel. - half•alive

Hometown - twenty one pilots

Sleep - My Chemical Romance

King of the Clouds - Panic! at the Disco

Put the Gun Down - Andy Black

Morph - twenty one pilots

From Now On We Are Enemies - Fall Out Boy

Mistakes - Phildel

Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back - My Chemical Romance

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

Glory and Gore - Lorde

Goodbye To a World - Porter Robinson

Sometimes it’s physically painful how much I love Tony Stark. Anyways. Like or reblog if you also cry over songs you’ve learned to associate with fictional characters.

Bonus! songs that wouldn’t fit on my paper:

Trade Mistakes - Panic! at the Disco

The Hype - twenty one pilots

Teen Idol - Marina and The Diamonds

Novocaine - Fall Out Boy

One of the Drunks - Panic! at the Disco

Golden - Fall Out Boy

I Bet My Life - Imagine Dragons

[lurafita]

Petvengers Chapter 4

Read chapter 1 here: Chappy 1

Read chapter 2 here: Chappy 2

Read chapter 3 here: Chappy 3

 Bruce/Hulk

If anyone were ever to ask Peter, what it had been like the very first time he met Dr. Bruce Banner face to face, he would tell them that he was the embodiment of sophisticated professionalism, and not at all embarrassing.

If they were to ask anyone else that had been present at the time, however, they would tell a quite different story.

 - (about 2 years ago) -

“I'm really not sure about this, Tony.”

Bruce said, as he was led through the halls of the tower's common floor, by the far too excited engineer.

Tony just grinned.

“Relax, Brucie Bear. I'm telling you, you are going to love the kid. Fair warning though, he can talk. Like, boy, can he talk. If he starts rambling, don't try to get a word in edgewise, just let him get it all out. He will run out of oxygen at some point, and that's when you seize the opportunity to get the conversation back on track. Because, believe me, Pete will somehow manage to totally derail the topic. Like yesterday, when he came over after school, he started out telling me about his and his friend Ted's AP chemistry project, and suddenly we are in a deep, philosophical discussion about the representation of real life issues in children's cartoons. By the way, you should absolutely watch more cartoons in your free time. Some are surprisingly deep. Did you know that Sailor Moon was way ahead of the curve on LGBTQ relationships? And considering the time period in which it first aired, that's saying a lot. And Captain Planet was actually taking on AIDS hysteria in 1992. Not to mention the fact that in Steven Universe, child heroes have to deal with trauma, instead of things just getting swept under the table. Really, this stuff is more educational than you might think.”

Bruce side eyed his friend.

“So the kid goes off on a tangent suddenly and just keeps going, huh? Completely disregarding the topic you were just talking about right before, huh? Wonder where he gets this from. This sounds in no way familiar. At all.”

Tony either didn't catch the sarcasm, or ignored it, and nodded.

“Beats me. Can't be his aunt, that woman is scarily on point. She never let's you forget, or talk your way around anything. She is just like Pepper in that regard. I think its the Italian blood in May.”

Before the billionaire had the chance to get lost in that particular line of thought, Bruce cut in.

“Look, Tony, I'm not worried about whether or not I will like Peter. From all the proud dad raving you have been doing since I got back, I already know that he is a great kid.”

 (“Excuse you! I do not rave! Least of all proud dad like!”)

“I'm far more concerned about the kind of impact standing in a room with the man who turns into a giant, green rage monster at the drop of a hat, will have on a 15 year old. I'm really not looking forward to watching the kid run away in a panic.”

Tony scoffed.

“Oh please. If you turned Hulk at 'the drop of a hat', my tower would have crumbled years ago. Also, the kid is a superhero. He fought a maniac with alien weapons and a metallic bird suit. I'm gonna eat my 1.500,00 $ Italian leather shoes, if the Hulk scares Pete even a tiny, little bit.”

Bruce would have balked at the money that Tony spent on footwear, but at this moment, the two men stepped right into the living room. They were greeted by the sight of Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Colonel Rhodes, and one brown haired teenager. Which might have been a normal enough scene, if said teenager wasn't sitting cross legged on the ceiling, clutching a bag of marshmallows to his chest and alternating between stuffing one into his mouth, and trying to convince both Steve and Bucky that it counted as a healthy snack, since it was blackberry flavored.

And even though Bruce wasn't 'that kind of Doctor' he couldn't help but clear his throat.

“Actually, since the manufacturers have most likely resorted to using artificial flavors and food coloring, you probably have about the same health benefits from those, as if you just ate the sugar straight out of the container.”

Everyone turned to look at the two newcomers, and as the adults all smiled and stepped forward to welcome their friend, a wide eyed Peter lost his grip on both the bag of marshmallows and the ceiling, and fell to the ground in a heap. Before anyone could start panicking though, he was back up and with a kind of chocked off, high pitched scream/gasp, pointed his finger right at Bruce, and exclaimed “Don't move!” Then he ran out of the room.

And while Bruce had mentally prepared himself for just such a reaction, it still left him feeling rather disheartened. A quick glance around at the other people in the room showed three very confused Avengers (they had evidently not expected that reaction out of the boy), one Air force Colonel who was trying very hard not to laugh, and a grinning Tony Stark.

“So, should I be getting you some water to wash your ridiculously expensive shoes down with?”

Bruce asked the billionaire with a dispassionate sigh, but Tony was completely unconcerned.

“Just wait for it.”

They didn't need to wait even a second more after Tony had spoken, as Peter came running back into the room, arms overloaded with books, stacks of papers, and what looked like posters, which he all dumped onto the nearby couch table. Then the teen was suddenly right in front of Bruce and vigorously shaking his hand.

“Oh my god, Dr Banner, this is such an honor. You are like my favorite scientist ever! (Tony's indignant “Hey!” went ignored) I have read every one of your published papers and my friend may have hacked into your old university and found some of your papers that you didn’t publish, and now I realize that that’s not something I should tell you probably, please don’t sue us, but can you please sign everything I own and oh my god I’m shaking your hand and I’m never gonna wash that again ever. And can I get a photo, oh my god Ned is gonna be sooooo jealous!”

All the while Peter had been holding his phone in his other hand, blindly dialed a number and waited for the other person to take the call. Then he pressed the phone excitedly to his ear.

“Ned! Ned! You will never believe who I'm talking to right now! Think of the greatest scientist you know!... Okay, the greatest scientist you know who is currently alive... EXACTLY! (Once again, Tony's “It's like I'm invisible”, was ignored) Dude, I'm looking right at him. I'M SHAKING HIS HAND! … No, I'm not being a creepy fanboy... No, I have not yet let go of his hand...”

Rhodey laughed, Tony was jealously grumbling under his breath, Steve fondly shook his head, Bucky smirked, Natasha examined the impressive pile of things the teenager had brought for Bruce to sign, Peter continued shaking the scientists hand, while staring at him with awe-filled eyes and all but screaming into his phone, and Bruce... Bruce smiled.

 - (back to the present) -

It was one of the rare, lazy, late afternoons on a weekday, that found most of the Avengers hanging out on the newly built terrace behind the tower. The strangling hold that the high temperatures of summer had held over New York city for the last few days, was finally ebbing away and Peter had seized the opportunity to take Hope for an extended walk. (Steve had declined Peter's invitation to tag along. Colonel, Bucky and him had risen early as ever, and already run a few miles) He had also somehow managed to ensnare Bruce in a discussion about something that had gone over the collective heads of everyone around (Tony was still stuck in a board meeting that Pepper had dragged him to), and the dark haired scientist had seemingly unwittingly followed the teen and dog out of the tower.

The two super soldiers had curled up together in the porch swing, Bucky carefully keeping track of Arthur's progress, as the little raccoon tried scaling the garden table that held the snack food. Steve with a sketch pad in his lap, drawing the image of Eames the cockatoo, hopping around said table while chanting “Posh tosser, bloody wanker”, and occasionally dropping down a blueberry to Colonel, who was happily waving his tail at the treats.

Sam, for some reason, found his bird's antics endlessly funny, and was filming the whole thing with his phone.

Clint and Laura had spread a brightly colored blanket over the grass and were having a picnic with Nathaniel and Lila, while Natasha was showing Cooper some easy self-defense moves a few feet away.

When Hope's familiar barking and running feet were heard, the assembled group knew that Bruce and Peter had gotten back from their walk. The over eager Pitbull ran out on the terrace, greeting everyone in turn with happy licks and a wagging tail (he jumped first into the laps of the two super soldiers, let himself be scratched behind the ears, then ran right at Sam, nearly forcing the man to lose the grip on his phone when he licked him right across the face, then launched his furry body onto the blanket with Laura, Clint, Lila and Nathaniel, and patiently waited until all had pet him at least once, and finally trotted over to Cooper and Natasha to join in on their play fight.)

This had been expected.

What was not expected was watching Peter come walking out to the terrace, carrying a huge tortoise (about 25 to 30 inches in length), and grinning widely when setting the reptile down on the grass. Bruce was following close behind the teen, his face a curious mix of shell shocked and confused.

Peter straightened up from his crouch and addressed everyone, while Colonel and Arthur (who was riding on the dogs back), came over to examine the new, slowly moving animal.

“Everyone, meet Bruce's new friend, Speedy Gonzales!"

“She is a 33 year old Sulcata Tortoise. Sulcata Tortoises can live up to 70 years and above, and weigh up to 120 pounds. Speedy isn't that big yet, though. She did grow a bit too big for her previous owner, and the guy was too cheap to invest in a bigger terrarium, because she needs hot temperatures to stay healthy. She will be okay to roam freely during the summer, but we will have to turn one of the guest rooms into a heated enclosure for her when it gets colder.”

The still completely baffled looking Dr. Banner turned to face his friends and coworkers (the Barton's and Natasha had come closer to inspect the newest addition to their home).

“...I don't even know how that happened. … We were talking about the latest research on cross-species genetic transfers, and all of a sudden I'm standing in an animal shelter and signing adoption papers for a tortoise. … I didn't even know shelters had tortoises...”

Sam, Bucky and Steve, who had already been victims of Peter's crusade against a pet-less existence, held up their glasses in a silent salute to the doctor. Natasha proudly nodded at Peter's accomplishment, and he respectfully bowed to his Sensei. Eames had landed on Speedy's massive back, and was seemingly taunting Arthur from his perch. The little raccoon shot the bird a nasty look, and climbed up into Lila's embrace. Cooper and Clint both seemed fascinated with the size of the tortoise, while Hope jumped between the father and son to get back rubs. Nathaniel laughed happily as his mother helped him feed a banana to the reptile.

Speedy Gonzales brought honor to her species, by patiently tolerating the chaos all around her, and chomping down on the yellow fruit.

-

 Bonus: The Hulk!

"Uff!"

Spiderman shook himself free of the last remaining dust particles from the pile of debris he had dug himself out of, only a few minutes ago. All around him were the webbed up enormous bodies of the mutated rats. Some of them were twitching against their spidery cocoon, trying to get out of their bindings. Peter had done his best not to kill any of them, knowing that the animals had been victims of the illegal experimentation of the deranged Professor Stollack.

It wasn't everyday that a hoard of wild, three feet tall, rabid rats tried to take over Brooklyn. The whole team had been called in for some extreme pest control.

While Black Widow and Captain America had gone in search of the perpetrator behind this particular madness, Iron Man, Hulk, Falcon, Hawkeye, Thor, the Winter Soldier, Antman, the Wasp and Spiderman had taken to the streets and taken care of the mutated and very dangerous vermin.

Peter really felt sorry for the rats. While they weren't exactly among his favorite animals, they weren't evil. No animal was. And they didn't deserve to be experimented on and used like this, for one madman's twisted plans. He really hoped they could be returned to their original forms, and not have to be mercy killed.

/"Widow and me have taken the Professor and his underlings into custody. Everyone alright? Status report!"/ Came the Captain's voice over the comms that kept the team connected during battles.

/"I'm good, so is Feather-head."/ It was impossible to miss the smirk in Bucky's voice.

/"You won't be good for much longer if you keep it up with the nicknames, Frosty."/ As long as those two still argued, they were okay.

/"I'm fine, though Legolas might need to be checked for rabies. One of those things got a bite out of him."/ Peter would be way more worried, if Tony wasn't laughing as he said it.

/"My pants, guys, don't worry. No skin was breached. Mighty Mouse over there tore a fucking hole in my pants."/ Came Clint's answer.

/"His ass region, to be more specific. If anyone was wondering, Robin Hood is wearing Paw Patrol undies today."/

/"Look, Nathaniel likes the show, okay? How about we move things along?"/

/"Paw Patrol is cool. Call me when you watch it! I will bring Cassie!"/ Scott's joyful voice sounded.

/"Cassie only watches to keep you company, you know? By the way, Antman and I are both fine."/ Trust The Wasp to keep things under control.

/"I do not know this 'Paw Patrol', but I will gladly join you and your son for a viewing, if it is impressive enough for you to decorate yourself with."/ Fighting alongside the God of Thunder would never be not cool.

/"I'm okay, and I'm totally joining you for Paw Patrol. Got a bunch of the rats webbed up. Maybe Bruce can find a way to turn them back to normal. You know, once he has turned back to normal."/ Peter finally chimed in.

/"Speaking of, does anyone have eyes on the Hulk?"/ It was sadly impossible to equip the green guy with an earwig.

Spidey took a careful look around himself.

/"He was with me for most of the fight... Wait! I see him!"/

He had spotted the big guy a little ways away from his position, seemingly crouched over something. The part-time Avenger and full-time vigilante quickly swung his way to the Hulk.

/"Just... be careful, Spidey."/ Steve's cautious warning almost made Peter roll his eyes. He knew the team worried about his easy and unconcerned interactions with Hulk, and he couldn't really fault them. After all, the Hulk was the embodiment of Dr. Banner's uncontrolled anger, and was therefore, dangerous. But Peter's Spidey-sense never went off when he was around the big guy, or rather, it never went off because of the big guy, so Peter didn't worry. He knew though, that Tony was probably already on his way to them, just in case.

He landed beside the hulking giant.

"Hey buddy! You okay? Something wrong?"

The Hulk looked at him, and then slowly turned, so that Peter was able to see what was before him. The teenaged vigilante paled behind the mask.

On the ground before them laid the remains of what must have been a carton box. One of the pieces was large enough to read the handwritten 'Free to a good home', scribbled on it. Some of the carton pieces were drenched in red. And tiny bones could be seen among them.

Hulk's grumbling voice thankfully pulled him away from the grizzly scene.

"The evil mice were eating them... Hulk was too late to save the others."

Then Hulk turned further, and revealed a small, softly mewling kitten in his palm. The giant, green hand, made the little kitten look even tinier than it probably was. And Peter's heart just melted.

"I'm really sorry, bud, but you managed to safe this one! That's great! You are a hero! Do you mind if I took it for a minute? Make sure it isn't hurt anywhere?"

The Hulk grunted his agreement, and with a gentleness few would ever associate with the big guy, handed the little kitten over. Neither of the two turned around when Iron Man landed just a couple of steps behind them.

"Hey there, big guy. Spidey. You both good? You know, because you might want to let the team know that you are both good. So that the team doesn't worry."

Instead of answering his adoptive father, Peter addressed Hulk.

"She looks fine to me. But we might want to let a doctor check up on her. Just to make sure nothing is broken."

He placed the little kitten carefully back into his green friend's big hand, and the little fluff ball immediately curled up and started purring. Peter pat Hulk's shoulder in congratulation.

"She likes you!"

Iron Man had come closer.

 "Is that a cat?"

Hulk smiled.

"Hulk likes her, too. She is tiny... Like Bug-boy. Hulk likes Bug-boy."

"You know, big guy, I don't even mind you calling me that. I like you, too."

 "No, seriously, where did the cat come from?"

"Puny Banner is a doctor."

"Well, I was thinking more along the line of a veterinarian, but Bruce should be able to tell if anything was wrong with her. Especially with the equipment at the tower. And if all else fails, there is still Helen. She is the best doctor ever."

 "Okay, one, Bruce would throw in that he is 'not that kind of doctor', right about now. And two, what is the deal with the cat?"

Hulk grunted.

"Hulk will go now. So that puny Banner can take care of her. Bug-boy tell puny Banner that Hulk is keeping her."

Peter nodded enthusiastically.

"Great! What do you want to name her?"

 "Am I invisible to you people? What the hell is the deal with the cat?"

Hulk looked down at the purring kitten in his palm, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Little Smash."

Peter grinned.

"That's a great name!"

 "Seriously, am I invisible? Did I die without noticing and am roaming the streets as a ghost now? Were those rats magic? Is this a curse?"

When the Hulk shrank back into his other half, Bruce found himself even more confused than he usually was after a transformation. Beside him, Peter, in his Spiderman suit, was trying to calm down a comically panicking Tony, who was still in his Iron Man armor, and apparently convinced that he had been turned into an astral projection of himself.

He was standing in the middle of a street in Brooklyn (in only his thankfully very stretchy pants), there were big, twitching web cocoons some feet away from them on the ground, and in his hands was a sleeping little kitten, purring up a storm.

Peter paused long enough from reassuring Tony that he was, indeed, both visible and audible, and definitely not a ghost, to quickly address the confused Bruce.

"That's Little Smash! She is Hulk's! He said to take good care of her! Oh, and she might need an x-ray."

Then he was back at pointedly not ignoring Tony.

Bruce looked down at the sleeping kitten in his hands and sighed.

Oh well,... at least she was cute.

[terrypratchettparadise]

"Now consider the tortoise and the eagle. The tortoise is a ground-living creature. It is impossible to live nearer the ground without being under it. Its horizons are a few inches away. It has about as good a turn of speed as you need to hunt down a lettuce. It has survived while the rest of evolution flowed past it by being, on the whole, no threat to anyone and too much trouble to eat. And then there is the eagle. A creature of the air and high places, whose horizons go all the way to the edge of the world. Eyesight keen enough to spot the rustle of some small and squeaky creature half a mile away. All power, all control. Lightning death on wings. Talons and claws enough to make a meal of anything smaller than it is and at least take a hurried snack out of anything bigger. And yet the eagle will sit for hours on the crag and survey the kingdoms of the world until it spots a distant movement and then it will focus, focus, focus on the small shell wobbling among the bushes down there on the desert. And it will leap… And a minute later the tortoise finds the world dropping away from it. And it sees the world for the first time, no longer one inch from the ground but five hundred feet above it, and it thinks: what a great friend I have in the eagle. And then the eagle lets go. And almost always the tortoise plunges to its death. Everyone knows why the tortoise does this. Gravity is a habit that is hard to shake off. No one knows why the eagle does this. There’s good eating on a tortoise but, considering the effort involved, there’s much better eating on practically anything else. It’s simply the delight of eagles to torment tortoises. But of course, what the eagle does not realize is that it is participating in a very crude form of natural selection. One day a tortoise will learn how to fly."

- Terry Pratchett - Small Gods

[illiterateopossum]

i don't really know what this is but thanks to @brisingr-iettauthr for the tag!!! im not tagging anyone except @manthastop because i don't wanna bug em but you all know who you are, so feel free to do this,,,,,, or not!!!!! no pressure!

are you named after anyone? - nope

when was the last time you cried? - almost last night but probably like two days ago. i cry a lot, sue me

do you have any kids? - i have friends that make jokes about my dad-ness but nope, just my pets

do you use sarcasm a lot? - not as much as i used to because it can come across as mean sometimes, but i do use it

what's the first thing you notice about someone? - probably outfit? face wise idk probably makeup if they're wearing it, or piercings. when it's not about looks, then the way they talk to people. cause ive met some pretty rude people at uni and you can always tell by how they address everyone else

what's your eye colour? - simply just v light blue. its the one thing i like about my appearance even tho it's p boring and common

scary movie or happy ending? - oooooo i l o v e a good scary movie (scary stories to tell in the dark is a good one if you haven't seen it yet) but overall id have to say a happy ending

special talents? - i wouldn't say i really have any? i can write pretty well apparently tho so ig that (my ao3 is schreibenzi, not to shamelessly plug it or anything lmao)

where were you born? - hull in england, live just outside of it in a small village now, (and huddersfield for uni lmao) but go back very regularly

what are your hobbies? - is it bad my first thought was video games and mobile games n stuff? i really miss dragon age inquisition rn so that'll be why. writing too of course, and sometimes digital art cause even tho i can't really draw all that well, im good at the painting bit

do you have any pets? - yup! a big ol poodle called pepe, he's huge and silly and i would die for him, and a chubby* cat called smokie who i would also die for even though he prefers grass to me. oh and two tortoises that live in my great grans room

*it's just fur, don't worry hes nice and healthy! just got a lot of fluff

what sports do you/have you played? - i mean ive played plenty of sports in highschool (hockey, baseball, netball, basketball, etc. rugby was the personal fave cause i wasn't too bad) but since then nothing ://// i don't feel comfortable with them lmao

how tall are you? - somewhere between 5'4 and 5'5. i both hate it and love it

favourite subject in school? - gcse was history for definite, idk what it was before then probably german or english, but i absolutely loved history and was really fucking good at it. a level at the time was sociology cause i was, once again, really good at it (even tho i seemingly bombed my exams which makes no sense. should have sent them to be remarked lmao) but looking back probably classical civilisations as a subject because it was a mix of history and english lit, two things i still love, even now as im doing a degree in a hhs subject

dream job? - i want to help people. i will say the same thing every time. i don't care what my job is so long as at the end of it, i can look back and see people thriving and know that i used whatever means i could to get them there. people who are doing no wrong don't deserve to be treated as though they are, just for existing.

well. that was a lot for only a few questions. im used to doing these things on my sideblog, but that's p much dead so hello guess im using this one more now.

[angelofthequeers]

That Red Skirt

Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN.

Spawned from this thread. I already made a post for @some-angelic-flowers and @gabrielsbackbitches, but then I figured why not write them a fic? I also thought that @i-miss-balthazar might appreciate a tag as well!

Summary: When Jack realises on a shopping trip that he’s non-binary, leading to a confrontation with a stranger who can’t mind their own business, Dean starts to have a few realisations of his own. And his angel is there to save the day and provide answers and comfort as Dean ends up knee-deep in working out stuff he’s repressed to be John Winchester’s Perfect Son. Sam’s just a little shit but then, when isn’t he? At least the overgrown moose is accepting as well.

AO3 link here

It’s not that Dean’s ashamed exactly. Sure, he doesn’t go around telling people that he likes doing “womanly things”, as John called them whenever young Dean dared to bring them up. It’s clear as day to people who actually know him that he likes cooking and looking after his home and taking care of others – all “womanly things” according to John – but he doesn’t exactly like to parade it around.

At first, it was because John expected him to be the perfect son; “If I wanted a daughter then I would’ve had one,” had been his exact words on many an occasion, until Dean had learned to hide it all under layers of exaggerated manliness. That’s not to say that Dean’s not manly at all…just not to enough of a degree for John’s liking. Hell, probably not to enough of a degree for most men’s liking, judging by all the ‘guy humour’ he’s heard about women “belonging in the kitchen” and “taking care of the breadwinner”.

So he likes to indulge in taking care of people and his home without the need for violence. Sue him. He doesn’t think he’s too ashamed of it anymore, but he just doesn’t see any conversation to slide this information into, or just any people who he’d feel safe enough to tell. Sam and Cas wouldn’t give a fuck for sure – their appreciation of his cooking makes that blatantly clear, although he could do without Sam’s occasional comments about knowing how to do the perfect load of laundry despite having relied on laundromats all his life – but that still involves having a conversation about it. And if there’s one ‘manly’ thing that Dean’s good at, it’s avoiding talking about his feelings.

Actually, that’s probably more from years of trauma and childhood neglect. But whatever.

Dean has always thought that this inner conflict would come to a head in a bar somewhere. A finished case, a bit too much beer, he’d get hit on by some creepy asshole who thinks he’s “pretty” with his “princess lips” and “candy apple eyes” – because apparently even when he’s pushing forty, he’s still pretty enough to get hit on by creeps – and then drama would ensue when he says no. A homophobic slur here, an insinuation about being a girl there, finished with either a nice bar fight or storming off, then Sam’s following attempt at a conversation. According to Charlie years ago, it’s a popular trope in gay fanfiction and usually ends up in hot sex between the two guys, with a lesson about accepting yourself and blah blah whatever.

But no, Dean’s apparently too good for fanfiction tropes, because his moment of epiphany is still dramatic but much less macho manly bar fight. He’s out shopping with Jack one afternoon, since they’re in dire need of food supplies due to being down to a tablespoon of shitty instant coffee, a few slices of mouldy bread, a pack of nearly-expired bacon, and condiments that will probably only make that mouldy bread even worse. Thank god the hunters from the other world are gone now, out inhabiting the other Men of Letters chapter houses around the country so that they’ve got a web across the US. It might be horrible of Dean to feel this way but really, a home invasion was the last thing conducive to recovering from Michael’s possession.

So, anyway. He and Jack have filled the cart with food and are now preparing to brave the clothing department of Walmart, only because Dean had decided that it might be nice for Jack to have more than a few shirts and pairs of jeans for himself. He makes a beeline for the men’s jeans and picks out the first pair he finds in Jack’s size.

“Simple but decent when it comes to hunting,” Dean says, turning to show Jack. “About as tough as you can get for this price – the fuck did you go, kid?”

Jack’s nowhere to be found. Heart starting to race, Dean dumps the jeans and heads off in search of the human naphil, because Cas is going to have his ass for days if he loses their kid. He’s still not adjusted to being with Cas, especially with a kid between them (and between Sam too, but he’s firmly not involved in this Dean and Cas equation), but apparently letting a homicidal archangel possess you while the love of your life pleads for you to not make such a dumbass move is catalyst enough to really get things rolling.

In any case, he knows for sure that he’s going to be in the shithouse if he loses Jack, so he navigates the clothing department with all the grace of a giant tortoise whose shell is made of fraud-funded food. Jack’s nowhere in the men’s department, so Dean checks the kid’s department in case he’s started having a ‘one-year-old in the body of a twenty-year-old’ crisis, but he’s not there either.

“Dean!”

Dean whirls at the sound of Jack’s voice calling his name. He locates Jack in the women’s department, standing next to a rack of discount skirts, and he struggles on over.

“They’re so pretty!” Jack says in awe, running his hand over a white, flowy skirt that looks to be about mid-thigh length.

“Don’t run off on me like that!” Dean snaps, mostly to avoid having to crush the light in Jack’s eyes as he pulls out a long red split skirt to examine it. “Cas would fuckin’ kill me if I lost you. You know how much of a passive aggressive dick he can be.”

The lady at the rack nearby tuts, which Dean assumes is at his foul language. He shoots her a winning smile, but she just tuts again and looks away, so he shrugs and turns back to Jack.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Jack says, his mouth drooping as he puts the red skirt back. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just went looking for stuff I’d like, and I found this section and – Dean, look at how pretty these skirts are!”

“They’re for chicks, Jack,” Dean says, painfully aware that Cas is probably going to kill him for instilling human gender roles in their son who’s pretty much a toddler with adult intelligence.

“But why?” Jack says and runs his hand over the white skirt again. “Why do humans insist on assigning gender to pieces of cloth?”

“Okay, for one, you’re human to everyone else, so you might wanna tone down on that alien talk,” Dean mutters. He shoots a look at the lady out of the corner of his eye, who’s so thoroughly invested in the table of T-shirts that it’s obvious she’s eavesdropping. “It…just is, okay? Guys wore skirts ages ago, now they don’t. Shit changes.”

This coming from the guy who likes to wear pink panties makes it incredibly hypocritical. He knows that. But there’s a difference between a sexy kink and just outright wearing women’s clothing every day, and Jack doesn’t seem to be getting it. Dean’s just going to conveniently ignore how the fact that he likes wearing panties is waving its hands to get his attention, like there’s a ground-breaking revelation to be had if he examines it further.

“I don’t understand,” Jack says. “If it’s comfortable then why not wear it?”

“Because you’re not a chick. You’re a guy.”

Jack just frowns as though these are foreign words. “But how do I know that I’m a guy?” he says. “I met someone when I was off training my powers who told me that when he was born, everyone assumed he was a girl because of his body, but he wasn’t a girl. How do I know that that’s not me?” 

“Do you feel like you’re a girl?” Dean’s too sober right now. And he’s totally not equipped to handle a conversation like this. Cas is better suited, what with his utter disregard for human gender roles.

“I don’t know!” Jack clutches the skirt, no doubt to stave off the distress spreading across his face. “I like things that people call “womanly”. I like cooking with you and caring for other people just like you do. I like feeling pretty sometimes. I don’t like people thinking that I have to be tough and “manly” and not interact with my emotions just because I was born with a certain set of genitals.”

The woman nearby outright winces, so Dean turns to her with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” he says. She dithers, like she’s torn between speaking her mind and admitting that she was eavesdropping on another person’s conversation.

“No,” she finally says.

“Good.” Dean turns back to Jack. “Look, kid, I can’t help you there.”

“But you like things that society designates as “womanly”,” Jack says. “Yet you’re comfortable in your masculinity.”

Dean sighs and draws Jack away from the nosy woman. Jack brings the white skirt with him, and Dean’s seriously thinking that he’s going to have to buy the damn thing just to shut Jack up.

“I just don’t understand,” Jack insists.

“Look, kid, I don’t either,” Dean says. “And any time I tried anything, my dad kicked my ass for it. I…don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I appreciate your concern, Dean,” Jack says with that soft little smile of his. “But you and Sam have taught me how to take care of myself. I might only be human now, but I’m sure I can handle negative opinions if I’m not hurting anyone. And I know that you wouldn’t “kick my ass for it”.”

For a moment, Dean sees himself in Jack; his younger self, so fresh and idealistic, unaware of just how horrible a place the world was. He’s got one vague memory from before Mary’s death of her painting his nails for him because he’d seen the bottle of blue polish and wanted to “look pretty like Mommy”, only to result in one of the worst fights between John and Mary about “turning their son gay” while Dean huddled in bed crying.

In that moment, he vows that Jack will never know that pain. He’s never going to be that parent that forces a tonne of bullshit on his kid because everyone else thinks he should. He’s already raising the one-year-old grown-up son of Satan in a hunter life with his angel boyfriend, so there’s literally nothing about this that’s normal in any way. No way is he going to squash that light in Jack’s eyes that John had squashed out of his.

“Fine, whatever,” Dean says. “Get the skirt if you want.”

Jack’s face lights up, and he throws his arms around Dean while thanking him over and over again. Dean pats him on the back, praying that the kid doesn’t suffocate him to death, and thankfully he’s given back control of his lungs after just a few more moments.

“Tsk.” It’s so quiet and barely there, but Dean’s trained ears pick up the reproach from the woman who totally hadn’t started inspecting the next table over just to stay within hearing range.

“You know, it’s rude to listen in on conversations you’re not part of,” Dean says with the most passive aggressive smile he can muster.

“And it’s wrong how you’re raising that son of yours,” the woman retorts. “Especially with your…boyfriend.”

Ah, so she’s one of those ones. Dean’s fake smile just widens. “Well, I don’t see it as any of your business, sweetheart.”

“You’re sending your child to Hell by encouraging him to live in sin!” the woman says. “How can you say it’s not any of my business when I’m concerned for the poor thing?”

“Dean and Cas have always taught me that I’ll never go to Hell if I’m a good person,” Jack says straight to the woman’s face. Ah, Dean’s so proud. “And I don’t see how wanting to wear a skirt makes me a bad person.”

“You gay and transgender people are wrong in the eyes of the Lord,” the woman says. Jack frowns.

“God doesn’t care about that.”

“Just back up,” Dean says. “You can’t argue with crazies like her.”

“She’s insulting you and Cas,” Jack says. “And me. I can’t just let her hate other people when she’s wrong!”

“You’ll never be able to prove it to her,” Dean says. “Trust me, kid, you could have God himself pop in and tell her she’s wrong and she’ll still insist that she’s right and he’s just “pandering” or whatever. They don’t actually give a shit about God. They just use that bullshit so they can act like they got a real reason to hate others rather than having to admit that they’re just assholes.”

“You people sicken me,” the woman spits.

“At least we’re here minding our own business and not going around scaring people into believing our fairy tale,” Dean says. He marches over to the skirt rack and, looking the woman straight in the eye, grabs the red skirt that Jack had also been eyeing. “And you know what? My son can have all the skirts he wants. Hell, I’ll even paint his nails for him. ‘Cause I wasn’t allowed to be pretty as a kid, so Jack’s gonna be the prettiest fuckin’ guy around. You capiche?”

The woman looks like Dean had whipped his dick out and started pissing right in front of her, but Jack looks like Dean had personally hung the stars just for him. Dean drapes the skirt in the cart and nudges Jack.

“C’mon, kid. You still need some good, strong clothes for hu – uh, work.” He wheels their cart back to the men’s section, leaving the woman stewing and Jack bounding along beside him, and he feels in his bones that he’s made the right decision as a parent.

***

For the next few weeks, Dean can’t shake off Jack’s words from their shopping trip. Every time he cooks, he finds himself examining his actions under a microscope, dissecting how much he enjoys cooking for his family and exactly how he feels about it. He does the same thing when tidying the bunker, even going so far as to dust the top of the bookshelves and use some new, tropical-scented shit in their laundry that quickly earns Sam’s seal of approval. And fussing over Sam after the guy had been stabbed by a rabid vampire on their hunt has him spaced out for the rest of the night as he reflects on just how much he mother-hens his brother.

It doesn’t take long for Cas to notice. But then, Cas always notices. However, he doesn’t bring it up until about a month after the Shopping Trip, as the incident has now been dubbed.

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas’ voice is thick with the sleep he doesn’t need but enjoys when he can cuddle with Dean all night. “You’ve been quiet for weeks now.”

Dean doesn’t say anything at first, instead running his fingers down Cas’ bare chest and stomach and feeling the muscles spasm under his touch. He can’t help but marvel that, for all his holy angelness, Cas is still so incredibly human in many ways, the biggest way being how he chose to willingly tie himself to a human in the way he’s with Dean.

“Is it about Jack’s skirts?” Cas says into the silence. “You’ve been quiet since then. But I think you were fantastic to buy him those skirts. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him so happy than when he came to show me how they look on him. The red skirt especially suits him.”

“How do I know that I’m a dude if I like chick things?” The question comes out so softly that human ears would have missed it. But Cas doesn’t have human ears.

“Is it really that important that you know?” Cas says. He sighs and shakes his head. “My apologies. That was insensitive of me to say. I just don’t understand humans and their insistence on assigning themselves boxes and roles based on physical characteristics.”

“Look, I know you can like some chick things and still be a dude,” Dean says. “Just like I know chicks who are into cars and other “guy shit” and they’re still girls. But…I dunno. It feels like I’m missing something when I say that.”

“How so?” Cas says.

“Just…somethin’ Jack said about how you know you’re one or the other.”

“It’s not necessarily that simple, Dean. There’s so much more than just one or the other.”

Okay, that makes Dean blink. He’s had some vague knowledge that this exists – how could he not, when assholes everywhere are raising up a stink about “snowflakes” or whatever -  but to actually have an angel of the Lord tell him that there’s more than just guy and girl makes his head spin.

“This may not be of any help, since I’m an angel,” Cas says, “but I’m not a man. You see me as such, since my body appears that way, and I’m utterly indifferent to what people call me so my pronouns don’t bother me. I’m not a woman either. I don’t even know if I am anything.”

“That’s literally no help at all,” Dean says. “Thanks, you just confused me more.”

“Eat me,” Cas mutters. Dean snorts at that, because he can always count on Cas to unintentionally lighten the mood. “Talk to me, Dean. Walk me through your thoughts. I don’t know exactly what to say right now.”

“My thoughts are a fuckin’ mess,” Dean says. “Mostly ‘cause this is shit I’ve been shutting down since I was a kid ‘cause you know Dad would kick my ass if I tried. I remember when I was four and my mom painted my nails ‘cause I wanted to be pretty and Dad pitched a huge fit.”

“You were a child,” Cas says. “Children have no concept of gender roles until they’re taught, whether directly or through emulation.”

“I like a lot of “chick” stuff,” Dean says, tightening his hold on Cas like the angel can protect him from his inner crisis. “I like cooking. And I get that a lotta famous chefs are guys but…this is different. It feels more...domestic. I like keeping the bunker tidy ‘cause…it’s home, y’know? I’ve never…had a home before Baby. I just…like things to be nice. I like looking after others. I like listening to Taylor Swift and I’m kinda getting into Ariana Grande.”

The words are spilling out of him like an avalanche as he bares his soul for the first time ever to possibly the only person who would never judge him. As much as he loves Sam, his little brother’s also grown up under the reign of John Winchester, and Sam might be a softer and more emotional guy but he’s still got a lot of shit of his own.

“Sometimes I get sick of bein’ tough and strong and manly,” Dean babbles, burying his face in the crook of Cas’ neck as the deep stuff starts to uncontrollably emerge from years of lock and key. His eyes begin to sting and his lungs are working overtime at this point, but the fingers that start to card through his hair provide a point of sensation that successfully helps keep it under control. “Sometimes I…I wanna be pretty. Like Jack does. I don’t wanna wear a skirt or anything but…I wanna be that four-year-old kid who wanted to wear nail polish like his mom and dress up with her and try to wear her heels but trip and fall flat on his face while she laughs. I wanna be that guy who knows how to braid his younger brother’s hair ‘cause he won’t get a fuckin’ haircut. I wanna wear those flower crowns that Jack makes without feeling like I’m a sissy or somethin’.”

Cas hums, still stroking Dean’s hair. “You can still be a man and enjoy those things.”

“That’s the thing,” Dean says rather bitterly. “That doesn’t feel totally right either. Like…I don’t feel like bein’ a guy fits if I do that stuff. Like if I let myself enjoy that stuff then…not that I don’t deserve to be a guy, but more like…” He fumbles for the right words, wishing he could just let out a long groan and have Cas understand from that, because that’s really the best way he can describe himself. “More like calling myself a guy doesn’t fully describe myself ‘cause…I’m kinda not. But I ain’t a chick either and it feels wrong calling myself that too. If that makes sense?”

“It does,” Cas says and kisses the top of Dean’s head. “I think an appropriate allegory in this case would be nationality. You humans have assigned a label to each other based on where you were born, and you act in different ways according to this label that you were forcibly given. And I’ve noticed how if someone moves to another country, they often face derision for not having been born there like everyone else, especially if they don’t look like the majority or their culture drastically differs from the place to which they move.”

That makes sense. How many times has Dean heard jokes about American stereotypes? Or shitty comments about people based purely on ideas that other people have about where they were born and lived?

“Nationality isn’t anything tangible. It’s more of a feeling and a mutual culture based on shared experiences. And there aren’t just two nationalities or two experiences. There are so many more; some are similar to each other and some are totally different.”

“Nice soapbox,” Dean quips to hide how his head is spinning at this wealth of information. Does that mean that he can just…be neither? That he can let himself be pretty when he wants to while also being the cool tough guy he usually is, and…he can still be Dean? He doesn’t have to be a guy or a girl?

“It’s a very individual experience,” Cas says. “Mine is completely different to yours or Jack’s. That’s why it’s difficult for me to really find the right words for you.”

“Blame Jack,” Dean says. “He’s too pure for his own good. He’s corrupted me.”

“Dean,” Cas chastises. “Don’t talk about our son like that or I won’t sleep with you for a week.”

“You won’t last a week without my dick but sure,” Dean retorts. “So, like…do I have to call myself something since I’m not either? Tell the whole world? Start wearing spandex and dye my hair blue or something?” He looks up just in time to catch the biggest eyeroll Cas has ever given him, so he snickers and nips at Cas’ throat. He refrains from marking Cas up, knowing that if he does then Cas’ animalistic side will come out and he’ll get dicked six ways to Sunday. And while he normally wouldn’t ever turn down some good, hot sex with Cas, he’s also in the middle of an important conversation for which he wants a resolution.

Okay, wow, he’s been talking to Sam too much if he’s choosing a conversation about his feelings over hot angel sex. But it’s worth it, considering that he can feel the chains of another layer of John Winchester’s Perfect Son loosening from around him.

“You don’t “have” to do anything,” Cas says. “You’re still the same Dean Winchester I fell in love with.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, don’t you dare bring that word up,” Dean protests, but he feels about ten times lighter with Cas’ affirmation that he doesn’t have to do anything different and can just keep doing his own thing while knowing this new thing about himself.

“Oh, shut up, Dean.” Cas immediately contradicts his annoyed tone by kissing Dean’s head again, so Dean decides to lean up and catch Cas’ lips in a proper kiss. Cas hums and cups Dean’s face and their kiss is slow and deep, with small nips and tongues swiping across mouths without dipping inside.

“No but seriously, is there a word for it?” Dean says breathlessly when they separate. “That bitch at Walmart said “transgender” but I don’t feel like that’s me. Others like me might but…not me. I’m still cool with this totally hot body and with people thinking I’m a guy just to make shit easier on everyone, ‘cause I at least know I’m…not.” It feels weird as fuck to say that out loud but also oh so freeing.

“Some might call you egotistical,” Cas mumbles. “It would be totally valid of you to call yourself that if you want, but I understand why you feel it doesn’t apply to you. I’ve heard the term non-binary before, when I was at a homeless shelter as a human and I met someone who referred to themselves as such. After I confronted a bigot and said that I’m utterly indifferent to my own gender, the other person confided in me and non-binary was the term they used. You could try that and research further from there.”

“But…I don’t have to if I don’t want to?” Dean says. Don’t get him wrong, having an actual word that encapsulates him is just…wow. Holy shit. He’s real, he’s allowed to exist, and there are others who are not only like him but also open enough about their identities that other people can find this information and realise shit about themselves too. But he’s literally only just started coming to terms with shit he’s locked deep for the past few decades, so he’s not yet sure if he’s ready to start labelling himself and being so open about it until he’s had more time to work through it.

“Of course not,” Cas says. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just because Jack feels comfortable enough to wear skirts doesn’t mean that you ever have to as well. I told you, it’s highly individual.”

“Jack’s non-binary too?” Dean says. “I mean, I ain’t surprised, but…”

“We had a conversation. He told me that you said he should come to me, since you weren’t equipped to talk about it. He also said that he didn’t mind if I told you and Sam, so I won’t ever tell anyone else about you unless you allow me to do so. That would be rude and horrible and downright violent if the wrong person learned that when you didn’t want them to.”

Okay, that’s another weight off Dean’s shoulders. “Like tellin’ others that I’m bi, right? It’s for me to tell.”

“Precisely. And I’m very proud that you felt comfortable enough to tell Sam, Jack, and Mary.”

“I had a crisis back in Purgatory when I was lookin' for you.” Dean kisses Cas’ shoulder and snuggles under his chin. “Then I had years after that to deal with it and work through Dad’s shit. But this is just…new. I think I need a bit more time.”

“You have all the time in the world, Dean.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, and Dean starts to doze off at the feel of Cas stroking his hair despite having only woken up half an hour ago. But then something occurs to him, and it sets a cold pit of anxiety off in his stomach at the thought of voicing it out loud but…he also kind of wants to say it, if he’s still digging shit up from deep. And Cas won’t judge. This is the same guy who approves of their son wearing skirts.

“Cas?” Dean says. Cas hums in acknowledgement. “I…I just…shit, this is embarrassing.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to,” Cas says.

“No, I do wanna tell you. I just…bear with me, okay?” Dean pushes himself up into a sitting position so that he can look Cas right in the eye, and what he sees there helps loosen his shoulders ever so slightly. He takes a deep breath and blurts out, “Ilikewearingpanties.”

“Pardon?” Cas’ forehead creases.

“I. Like. Wearing Panties. This one chick, Rhonda Hurley…she made me wear them once. And I liked it. But that’s not even…look, it wouldn’t be so bad if it was just a kink, ‘cause loads of dudes – normal dudes – they like wearing women’s underwear too. But only during sex, ‘cause that can be hot.”

“You’re not abnormal for not being a “normal man”,” Cas says. “I know there’s a term to refer to people who aren’t transgender, but I can’t quite recall it.”

“That’s not the point,” Dean says. “I just…nail polish and feeling pretty are one thing, okay? But actually liking pretty, lacy underwear outside of sex, where nearly anything goes…Jesus, Cas, if anything was gonna make me suspect I’m not fully a guy, that’s it. I even…” His voice drops to a whisper as he confesses something to Cas for which John would have probably broken his ribs. “I even like the thought of wearing a bra. Not ‘cause I need it, but ‘cause I wanna see if it’d make me look nice. And not “goddamn Dean you look so sexy and I wanna fuck you in those girly clothes” nice like other guys would think but…y’know, “Dean you look so soft and happy” nice.” His shoulders slump, and he looks down at his fidgeting fingers. “I just wanna be not-tough for once. I just wanna be pretty without feeling ashamed or like I’m a girl when I’m not. Or that I have to be more like a guy when I'm not exactly that either.”

“I’m not sure I see how women’s lingerie is much more of a deal breaker than other feminine things,” Cas says. “And although I understand why you do so, I wish you wouldn’t attach such shame to it.”

“Yeah, why do you think I felt okay telling you?” Dean mutters. Cas’ eyes crinkle and, with a small smile, he sits up so that he can lean in and kiss Dean softly.

“I’m honoured that you trust me enough to confide in me, even if I don’t understand your social taboos.”

“Again, why d’you think I told you? Sam wouldn’t make fun of me but…he’s also human. He also grew up in this shithole society. He wouldn’t get it like you do.”

Cas’ eyes soften even more, and he gives Dean another kiss. “Maybe you could wear some of this clothing in a non-sexual situation with just the two of us,” he says. “No one else. Or if you would feel more comfortable without me, you could do it yourself.”

“Trust me, dude, I’d be a tonne comfier with you there so I don’t end up spiralling and shit,” Dean says with a dark little laugh. “Just ‘cause I realised all this shit now doesn’t mean I’m cool with it or anything.”

“Like I said, you have plenty of time. Use however much of it you need to become more comfortable with yourself. And you’ll always have my support, Dean. And Sam, Jack, and Mary’s, when you feel that you can tell them.”

A wide smile of relief splits Dean’s face and he pushes Cas to lie back down, then drapes himself on top of the angel. “You’re the best, man. You’re a literal angel.”

“I know. I have the halo to prove it,” Cas deadpans. The fact that Cas has finally grasped things like sarcasm after years of fraternising with humans is possibly the funniest thing Dean’s encountered all day, and it takes a humongous effort to just snicker rather than descend into a fit of laughter.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he says, pushing Cas’ chin back to start kissing down his throat. “You’re the biggest asshole around.”

“You –” Cas cuts himself off with a hiss when Dean nips at the skin over his pulse point, sucking to ensure that he leaves a dark bruise behind. “Dean, you know this – that this erodes my self-control –”

Dean gives him a shit-eating grin. “Good.” He bites again, only to blink as the world around him shifts and blurs when Cas grabs him by the hips and bodily throws him back on the bed, then straddles his hips, blue eyes blown black.

“If one thing about you never changes, it’s how infuriating you are,” Cas growls.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” Dean says, grin widening. Cas rolls his eyes.

“Sometimes, I wonder why.”

“Hey.” Dean runs his fingers down Cas’s stomach and dips a finger below the waistband of his white boxers. “Less talking, more kissing.”

***

“Dean, you look like you’re gonna puke,” Sam says when Dean corners him after breakfast the next day. “What’s wrong?”

Dean swallows, takes a deep breath, then decides to just go for it. He doesn’t want to have to spend ages hiding something like this from his brother when he can have another person supporting him, especially after everything he and Sam have been through. “I’m not a guy, okay?”

“Uh…what?” Sam frowns. “You’re…uh, wow, that is big. Are you –”

“I’m not a girl either,” Dean rushes to say. “I’m…neither. And kinda both. But mostly just neither. Cas calls it non-binary but I dunno what to call myself yet. If I even wanna call myself anything at all.”

“Huh,” Sam says. “You know, I always knew you were bi, but I never even suspected you weren’t cis.”

“Cis?”

“Not trans.”

“Oh, is that what it’s called? Cas couldn’t remember.” Dean blinks and points at Sam. “Wait, you know about this shit?”

“Of course I do,” Sam says. “The internet exists. And I thought I might not be a cis guy at one point, so I went researching, but I’m pretty sure I am. I did learn a lot, though. I know I don’t really care about gender when I’m into someone, but I have to be close to them to like them like that. That's why I'm so close to everyone I sleep with or get together with. I just never told you because you had your own stuff to deal with.”

“Fuckin’ nerd,” Dean mutters. Sam doesn’t even bitchface him this time, so Dean’s expecting some speech about how happy he is that Dean trusts him enough to confide him and whatever.

“Does that mean you’ll finally braid my hair for me?” Sam says with a smile so innocent that it’s dripping with guilt. Dean rolls his eyes and flips his brother off, then promptly regrets it when the moose turns all touchy-feely and pulls him into a hug.

“Fuck off, bitch,” Dean says into Sam’s plaid shirt.

“In your dreams, jerk.”

[jdroxburgh]

Honeymoon Period

So this was a originally a one shot for Week 9 (Theme: Mistakes) for the #rizzlesfanficchallenge I was asked to extend it so here you go :) Happy Valentine’s Day :)

Chapter One.

Jane and Casey landed in the airport from their honeymoon and life bombarded them immediately; her phone buzzed with a zillion voicemails from her Ma and his commanding officer called him with an almost eerie timing as soon as he turned his signal back on. Casey looked at Jane with those puppy dog eyes he did before turning his back and hailing down a cab whilst succumbing to whatever instructions where being barked down the phone at him. Jane watched him climb into the cab and take off with a heavy sigh, so much for the honeymoon period! She hailed down a separate cab, gave the driver her address and took a deep breath before looking at her phone again. She winced as she looked at the sheer volume of voicemails her Ma had left her and locked the phone hastily, she could at least wait until she got home to call her Ma.

The cab pulled up at her apartment and she smiled at the familiar building with an almost sad nostalgia; whilst on honeymoon Casey had talked about getting a house, somewhere just outside of the city, somewhere cozy and warm, perfect for raising a family. she, of course, didn't let on the feeling of utter dread that that image brought her, she told herself it was just jitters, like she had on the wedding day, nothing serious, she just didn't always like change. She unlocked the door to her apartment and turned to close it behind her when she jumped out of her skin at a noise behind her.

"JANE CLEMENTINE RIZZOLI!"

"Jesus Ma!" Jane spun on her heels to glare at her Ma who was glaring right back at her with her hands on her hips. "What you tryin' to kill me?!"

"Me?! What about you? You don't let me know you landed safe, you don't leave the name of your hotel, you don't answer my calls, you don't tell me when you've arrived back?!" Angela shook her head at her daughter "I was worried sick! Anything could have happened!"

"Ma, I was on honeymoon! So sue me if I don't wanna talk to my mother every day!"

Angela was hurt by Jane's comments but shook them off; there was something more important to discuss. "Janie…"

Jane frowned at her apartment and it took her a second to catch onto why it looked so different, "Ma…why is all your stuff here…in my apartment…?"

Angela could feel the tears welling up and she wished she didn't have to have this conversation. "Janie…come sit down."

Jane eyed her Ma suspiciously "No, I'm good standing, what's going on Ma?"

Angela sighed sadly "It's Maura."

Panic seized Jane and she felt as if she were going to collapse, a lump in her throat made her feel sick and her ears began ringing, somehow she managed to speak over all of it "What's happened? Where is she?"

"I don't know."

The quiet honest answer her Ma gave her made her feel as if she had been stabbed through the chest "What do you mean? Where is she Ma? Where's Maura?" Saying her name almost winded Jane as emotions she didn't know she had coursed through her veins.

"She's gone…she sold the house…she quit her job…and just…left." Angela saw the heartbreak in her daughter's eyes and she recognised it; every time Maura had been hurt or in danger she had had that haunted, broken look in her eyes, Angela had never seen her look like that with anyone else, not even when Casey had told her the news of his accident.

Jane shook her head repeatedly "She just, left? no, Ma, that can't be right, I mean, she must have said something?!"

Angela stood up and attempted to gather Jane into a hug but Jane pushed her away angrily. "I came home from work and she was gone, she left me a note saying I had a couple of days to clear the guesthouse before the new owners moved in…that she was sorry but it was something she had to do. I called Sean and she had resigned that day, she begged him to take all her unused leave as a replacement for her notice…and that was it…"

Jane balled up her fists and gritted her teeth together "You must know something else."

Angela shook her head sadly and watched as Jane stormed out of her apartment.

As she sped to the BPD she constantly rang Maura leaving message after message telling her to call her. As she stormed into the bullpen she saw everyone avoid her gaze and she snarled at them in disgust before yanking open the door to Cavanaugh's office and slamming it shut.

He looked up at her unimpressed, "Detective Rizzoli. I trust you had a pleasant honeymoon?"

"Where is she?"

"Excuse me?"

Jane slammed her hands down on his desk "Maura! Where is she?!"

"Doctor Isles felt as if her services were needed elsewhere."

Jane leaned right into his face trying to hold back the hot tears "Where did she go?"

"Rizzoli, you know I can't reveal that information, she asked for it to remain private."

"I'm her best friend!"

"Then why didn't she tell you?"

His words slithered across her skin like a cold harsh wind, it seeped into her and sank to the pit of her stomach like a rock. She turned and left his office without a word. She walked out of the bullpen and down into the morgue. Doctor Pike was fussing about in Maura's office measuring things and she simply glared at him. "Get out." He opened his mouth to protest but seeing the dangerous look in her eye he scampered away.

"Then why didn't she tell you?" The words echoed in her mind like a cruel taunt. She picked up her phone and dialled that number that was so ingrained in her brain. "Maura…it's me…again…where are you? Let me come and find you…please…I need to talk to you, I want to talk to you…I miss you…I…I…I love you…" The last admission was whispered down the phone as realisation sank in and Jane suddenly realised what had been staring her in the face for all these years. "I love you." Her voice had grown in strength as the words warmed through the frost and hurt. "I love you Maura Isles, Doctor Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner of Massachusetts. I love the way you get frustrated with me and tell me off when I guess. I love the way your nose scrunches up when you don't understand a saying. I love the way you talk to your turtle…I love the way it winds you up when I don't call Bass a tortoise. I love the way you always look like you're about to do a photoshoot. I love the way you always have my back, no matter what. I love that I'm the only one allowed to hug you when you cry, just like you're the only one who can hold my hands. I love you Maura and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did this to us. I'm sorry I was so blind I didn't see it. I'm sorry I married Casey." Tears were flowing fast and free down Jane's face. "Losing you is the worst thing that could ever have happened to me, letting you go without telling you this is my biggest mistake. I'll do anything Maur…anything. I will hunt the earth to find you just to tell you this, even if you don't feel the same, even if you never want to see me again."

Jane heard movement in the doorway and span in hope praying to see those beautiful hazel eyes that reassured her that everything was okay. Instead she face Senior Criminologist Chang's puzzled expression and she sighed heavily as she hung up her phone.

"Detective Rizzoli. You're back."

Jane frowned at her momentarily before remembering she had just come back from honeymoon. "Oh, right, yeah…" she swiped at her tears and went to brush past Susie when a gentle hand reached out and rested on her arm.

"It took you long enough." Jane frowned at her again and the other woman smiled kindly at her. "Doctor Isles told me to keep this strictly to myself, but I have a feeling she will forgive me in time."

Jane felt a piece of paper being pushed into her hand and unfolded it carefully. it was an address. Jane looked up to thank Susie but she had gone. Hope suddenly welled up inside Jane like a spring. This is it. You're about to either make another mistake, or rectify the biggest one you ever made. Either way it was about time Jane learned from her mistakes and she wasn't about to let Maura go again without a fight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Chapter Two.

Jane sat behind the wheel of her car staring at the cursive handwriting that she knew almost better than she knew her own.  Seeing it comforted her, warmed her heart like it was proof she was ok but before that thought had time to settle a newer stronger thought harked at her.  But she isn’t ok. And it’s my fault.  She carefully folded the paper like the precious gem it was and turned the key in the engine.  As the engine roared into life and purred underneath her she drank in its power and strength.  She sat up straighter and pulled down the visor to give her chocolate eyes a glare “Time to man up Rizzoli.” Time to stop running. The silent afterthought made her slap the visor back with more vigour than was needed, had she really been running all this time? She didn’t need to answer herself to know that deep down somewhere she had always known there was something more to her feelings for Maura.  The countless times Maura would touch her, innocently, to reassure her or as a gentle no every time it sent shivers across her skin but she would never give credence to that feeling and just blocked it out.  That’s what she was good at – blocking things out, if she wasn’t she would never have come back from Hoyt, she was able to put walls up where they were needed.  She sighed and her shoulders sagged a little, they were never needed with Maura though and the honey blonde had always managed to smash through them somehow.  A lump formed in her throat as she recalled the fallout from Doyle, the intense hurt in those hazel eyes and Jane remembered praying to a god she didn’t believe in that Maura would forgive her because she didn’t know how she could live with Maura looking at her like that.  They had come past all of that, they had gone through so damned much together and yet the detective refused to see what was in front of her the whole time.  She thought about all the times they almost lost each other and she sat back up, tilted her head to one side with a satisfying crack and gripped the steering wheel with reinforced purpose.  I’m not going to lose her this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maura looked around the penthouse apartment with a heavy sigh for a countless time since she had gotten here; trust her name to bring such opulence.  She rolled her eyes, all she had wanted was a room, small enough to keep her contained and no room for her thoughts that she had no control over.  She opened the French doors and walked out onto the balcony taking in the breath-taking view – this was certainly a bonus of the unrequested upgrade, it was almost enough to take her thoughts away on the breeze.  Almost.  She felt the hot tears welling up again and clenched her fists in frustration.  I am Maura Isles, Medical Examiner, Queen of the Dead…I do not get consumed by ridiculous emotions.  But even as the thought floated around her head the sour taste in her mouth and heat across her chest told her that her body was having none of it.  She had been, she had lead an uncomplicated, blissfully ignorant “normal” life, unmarred by emotion, clinical and precise…and then she had walked into her life.  Maura smirked, or the coffee shop to be more precise.  There had been no question over her base attraction to Jane – she was a stunningly beautiful woman even in that horrendous undercover get up Maura was attracted to her.  A small laugh escaped her lips and was snatched away by the breeze, the brunette’s rude obnoxious snarky tendencies were not a turn on.  She lay a gentle hand across her heated skin below her neck and absentmindedly played with the necklace that lay there.  Ok she conceded, at first, they weren’t a turn on. But as her thoughts drifted to Jane’s fiery temper and block headedness and passion she found the familiar aches shiver over her body.  Even when they fought that passion did things to Maura that were never appropriate but it was just so Jane when she went all gung-ho or when she defended her like she was the most precious thing in her life.  She smirked at a memory in Giovanni’s garage when he asked her if she wanted to help him under the hood and she stood there helplessly stammering until an idea sprung to mind.  She remembered eyeing Jane to try and get her message across silently but all she could feel was her heart thundering in her chest as her mind screamed at her for this ridiculous idea.  When the brunette’s expression was blank the word “Babe” fell out of her lips for the first time in her life and it took all she had not to laugh but even as the giggle bubbled up her throat Jane’s eyes gained understanding and before she could process it she was closing the gap between them with this dark look in her eye that killed the giggle immediately and suddenly nothing was in her mouth or throat, not even saliva.  When Jane’s arms wrapped around her waist and she gave a little protective tug to pull her back into her body Maura’s mind melted.  She sank back and gave in to the amazing feeling of Jane’s body behind hers and could barely think straight as she rocked them, like they had done this a thousand times.  “Tell him.” The raspy command in her ear flooded parts of her anatomy, not that they needed it the strong arms she was feeling had already performed that job admirably.  It wasn’t until she tried explaining things to Giovanni that she realised just how short circuited her brain was, of course she could later blame it on not being able to lie but in that moment, it was all to do with Jane’s body.  She wished Jane had been going through the same thing as they equally fumbled over the terminology but she couldn’t help the lump in her throat hearing Jane saying the words life long and suddenly Maura was overwhelmed with want and not just the physical kind.  Nothing came close, however, to the sheer ripple through her body when Jane whispered “oh babe” in her ear completely unprompted – it was a good thing she was holding her upright because Maura’s knees would not have done the job.  Maura sighed as her body remembered the closeness but smiled sadly as she also remembered how quickly Jane had let go of her, true she had had to come right back hastily which had bumped her body right back against her own making Maura have to bite her lip to stop the noise she wanted to make from escaping.  She shook her head vigorously and swiped a hand at the tears she hadn’t realised were falling.  “Damn you Jane Rizzoli” she whispered into the air whilst feeling her skin tingle at the words, after all she had never told her, she let her go to Casey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jane drove like woman possessed and the truth is she felt possessed, she felt wild, alive, passionate, crazy all the things that the thought of losing Maura did to her – it amped her up her adrenaline was flowing and it occurred to her that every time she had saved Maura she put these feelings down to the danger, the job, that’s what she did, it’s what she loved but now she knew better it was all those things but overall it was Maura.  It was the fear of losing her forever.  She glanced down at her hands gripping the wheel and grimaced light was bouncing off her engagement ring which was now nestled with her wedding band and it was winking at her, like a reminder of all the wrong choices she had made.  She ground her teeth and felt her heart sink as she remembered that day with Maura.

“You gonna mention that diamond you’re wearing? Or do I ignore it?”

Jane felt her heart sink as Maura spent longer looking at the piece of paper in her hand than she did at her…but then when she did the brunette wished she hadn’t…that trademark beaming smile that always made her feel better about things wasn’t there…there was nothing there other than a faint forced smile and it was unsettling.  She had tried to lighten the mood with a joke about rom coms but she could see immediately that their normal banter was nowhere to be found.  Maura’s rebuffal was sadly self-defamatory and yet so reminiscent of old Maura, the Maura who wasn’t her friend, the Maura who thought she was odd, the Maura who distanced herself from people because she wasn’t like them.  It made Jane scared to see her slip back into that persona but Jane being Jane kept up the bravado, she remembered dismissing Maura’s behaviour by thinking she must be having a bad day.  She kept joking around but it wasn’t until she held out her hand and saw Maura’s face when she eyed the diamond that she knew somewhere deep down that nothing was ever going to be the same again.  The words that came out of the medical examiner were humourless and biting but Jane tried to make light of it again.  Now as she drove she glared at it Pretty?! The more she looked at it now the more she simply saw it as a colourless crystalline form of pure carbon.  She couldn’t help but smirk at that, Maura would be proud she remembered the terminology correctly.  She had tried to change the subject, switching back to the case in hand but Maura being Maura wouldn’t just let it lie. 

“So…you’re leaving?”

Those words, even now, punched Jane right in the gut along with the memory of those eyes, those eyes that looked so hurt, so betrayed.  She hated herself for having that conversation with Maura now but back then she was so blind she didn’t know…she thought it was just her friend not wanting to lose her but now she knew better.  She hit the steering wheel again “GOD! I am so dumb!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How are you gonna survive with one shoe?”

“How will I survive without my best friend?”

It was a rare moment of pure unfiltered emotion but the way Jane reacted…it wasn’t enough.  It was never enough, because she didn’t know…she didn’t feel the same but Maura couldn’t stop her love and emotions overflow at that moment and it was all too raw, too much.  So, she did what she always did, google mouthed her way out of it, or so Jane would have called it.  As she stood on the balcony now she felt the wave of overwhelming emotions hit her again but this time she didn’t have to run…this time she had already run.  She walked back inside and glanced at the clock.  They would be landing now. She cursed herself for knowing their flight details and itinerary, she wanted to blame Angela but she knew even if she hadn’t left the details lying around her old home she would have looked them up anyway.  She most definitely didn’t have a flight update app on her phone to notify her of any issues either.  She walked into the bedroom and rolled her eyes at the ginormous bed before she ungraciously flopped herself onto it.  She turned her head to one side.

“Are we having a sleepover or is this your way of telling me you’re attracted to me?”

She smiled in spite of herself, they had been dancing around each other right from the very beginning, she sighed heavily as she took one last look at her phone before she turned it off.  She was with him now, forever.  It was time to move on.  She turned the phone over and ejected the SIM card before inserting a new one.  Fresh start.  Even as she walked over to the trash can every cell of her being was screaming at her not to do it but she steeled herself and let the small item fall from her fingers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jane had Maura’s number on redial but it was just going straight to her voicemail each time.  Her gut was chewing itself to pieces but she kept repeating the same thought in her head She’s just busy, she’s ok. Not that it stopped her from pressing the gas pedal a little harder.  She kept trying to imagine what was going to happen, trying to prepare herself but she was sinking deeper into despair with every thought.  What if I’ve totally misjudged this? What if she doesn’t return my feelings? What if she’s met someone else? The other side of her kept rebuffing her inane fears. She loves you, you know she does, you’ve always known it, just like you’ve always known you love her you just couldn’t see it until now.  You’ve been on honeymoon for two weeks, she’s not going to have met the love of her life in two weeks.  She felt sick, she felt like she had heartburn even as she thought about it.  The trouble was, it was Maura.  As soon as you meet her you can fall head over heels, what if someone better had come along? Someone who realised just how precious she was, and showed her that…just like she had always done to Jane.

“You don’t know? You’re gorgeous my friend.”

As she drove she suddenly realised it didn’t matter what she said, as long as she said it.  Whatever the outcome she would live with it, she would deal with the fall out but she couldn’t go another day without telling her how she felt.  As if on cue Casey rang her phone and she felt the guilt sitting heavily on her chest.  That was not going to be a fun conversation…but it needed to be face to face, she owed him that much.  She reached over and turned her phone off before wiggling her rings off and guiltily sighing with relief as her hand felt instantly lighter.  Casey was a good guy, he had his flaws but he was a good guy, she hadn’t been good to him, she had denied him the big wedding he had wanted…she told him she couldn’t take the fussing from her Ma and that it was just for the two of them.  Truth was, not that she admitted to herself until now, she couldn’t marry someone else with Maura there, she couldn’t stand to see the emotions flicker across those hazel eyes.  That’s even if she would have come to wedding which Jane doubted.  So, she had run…run away from Maura just like she always had done and took Casey along for the ride.  He deserved better…so did Maura.  She chewed at her thumb and cursed the medical examiner for going so far away, it was making it hard to keep going every time she doubted herself.  Maura did deserve better than her, but more than that Maura deserved the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Chapter Three.

She didn’t remember falling asleep but she knew she had been dreaming of a certain brunette as she was rudely awoken by a pounding on the door.  She groggily sat up and frowned at it.  She hadn’t ordered room service and no one would disturb an Isles in this establishment unless it was urgent – it certainly sounded urgent from the thundering sounds.  She half-heartedly raised a hand to fuss her hair but dropped it with a sigh, what was the point?  That thought made her heart sink a little, that was one of the things that made her her but she didn’t have the energy for it.  This time away was exactly what she needed she needed to find herself again.  Build those walls back up.  She straightened her back and made her way to the door that was still being pounded.  She took a deep breath and swung open the door only to let the breath out in a shocked whoosh like she had been winded.

Jane blinked.  She was there.  Just, just stood in the doorway. It was really her.  It felt like a million years since she’d actually seen her and her mind utterly blanked, all she knew was that in that moment looking into those hazel eyes she felt like she was home.

Maura thought she was dreaming, she genuinely wanted to pinch herself but as she gazed into those chocolate eyes she saw the layers of emotions; sadness, happiness, guilt, shock and she knew the brunette was real, if she was a dream it wouldn’t be this hard.  And it was hard, it was hard to swallow all of her emotions and instinctual words that were on the tip of her tongue.  Hardest of all was keeping the tears at bay, she didn’t know if they were happy or sad tears, which meant they were probably both.

She felt home but she also felt lost.  It felt like they had been apart for so long and there was so much unspoken between the two of them.  She cursed herself for not practising what to say.  She thought about stepping over the threshold and just gathering the honey blonde into a kiss but she found her feet wouldn’t move.  This was harder than she thought.  “Why do you always look like you’re about to do a photoshoot?”

The pair of women blinked at one another as the words broke the silence around them.

What the fuck Rizzoli? Really? Jane inwardly winced, god she was such a bumbling moron.  She tried to smile at Maura but only half of her mouth moved and she imagined it was more of a grimace than anything and she wanted to turn on her heel and bolt.

The brunette tried to throw her one of her trademark goofy grins but it didn’t fully form and she knew that Jane was feeling as unsure as she was.  She wanted her to come in but at the same time she wanted to beat her fists against her chest and banish her.  She knew, if she did that Jane would leave and never come back, she would respect her wishes.  That’s why she was still stood in the corridor awkwardly; she wouldn’t come in unless Maura asked her in.  She didn’t trust her words so she simply stepped to one side and held open the door.

Jane walked into a suite that was bigger than her entire apartment and couldn’t help but smile a little, Maura’s name had preceded her no doubt, as much as she loved the finer things in life even she wouldn’t go this far.  She didn’t trust her body and kept her back to Maura as she looked out the French doors at a stunning sunset.

Maura closed the door and the sound was too loud, it only heightened the silence between the two of them and she floundered.  What on earth can I say to her? “Is Angela-“

“She’s ok.” Her voice cracked and came out hoarser than she expected and she realised she was closer to tears than she thought.  She straightened her back and pulled on the Rizzoli armour before finally turning to the smaller woman who was stood with her arms wrapped around her.  “Susie, she-“

“Ah.” Maura inwardly cursed herself but also couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed her mind when she had given the paper to her former colleague.  She tried to regain some semblance of control by crossing to the bar and poured two glasses of scotch.

The tinkling of ice cubes took the place of the unsaid conversation and by the time Jane crossed over to take her glass the air felt less tense, still horrid and awkward, but the cursory small talk was at least bypassed…now for the real talk.  She gulped the burning liquid down her throat and couldn’t hold back the cough.

She couldn’t help it, the small crossed her lips before the thought of one did and she knew those chocolate eyes had seen it but she wasn’t ready to give in yet so she straightened her posture, jutted out her chin defiantly and proceeded to go and stand on the balcony.

Jane poured herself another generous scotch and gave herself a pep talk before turning to follow the medical examiner outside.  They stood for a few moments in silence, Maura staring into her glass chasing the ice around the bottom of the tumbler and Jane flicking her gaze between the honey blonde and the sunset still not quite believing her eyes.  She opened and closed her mouth like a fish several times as she floundered for the right words but everything she thought of just wasn’t enough, it wasn’t good enough.  That niggling thought plagued her again and she felt her scars flare up as they did when she was nervous or scared.  She absentmindedly rubbed her left hand over the rim of the glass to try and relieve it.

Maura caught the action out of the corner of her eye and she sighed, Jane was nervous…or scared.  She knew that action all too well.  She dared to allow her eyes to flick up to chocolate ones that were gazing out at the sunset the reflection of which made her eyes shine and cast a rosy glow over perfect olive skin and those damned cheekbones she wanted under her fingers.  She blinked the thought out of her mind.  We don’t know why she’s here, she might not be here for that… the other voice in her mind scoffed at her. Yeah sure, don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed that hand doesn’t have rings on it.

Jane was having an imaginary conversation with Maura when a feather light touch stilled her hand on top of her glass.  She froze like an animal caught in headlights not wanting to disturb the touch.  She didn’t trust her gaze not to give her away so she stared at the sunset willing her tears to vanish.  Her touch burned against Jane’s cold skin but it was so gentle like she was going to break it made her chin wobble.

She traced around the scar on top of her hand in circles as she had done countless times before.  Somehow this time was different, somehow this time was so much more intimate.  She took a deep breath and plucked up the courage to swipe her thumb gently across the puckered scar tissue and Jane hissed.

At the noise concerned eyes shot up to meet her own but they softened and the stilled digit resumed its work as she must have seen it was not pain that caused her to hiss.  She gripped her glass as hard as she could for fear she would drop it and tried to tear her eyes away from hazel ones but like a magnet she was unable to.

She didn’t know how long they stood like that but in that gaze she tried to convey all her feelings, she knew she didn’t have the words to do it and she didn’t trust herself to say the right thing, she never could say the right thing.

She could see fear in those eyes, fear of rejection, fear of getting hurt, all the fears she knew were shining in her own eyes.  She finally had her answer.  She knew why Maura had run, it was the same reason Jane had been running for all these years.  She turned her left hand and stilled Maura’s movements and held her hand for a moment.

She was the only one allowed to touch her hands like this, so intimate, she had known that for a long time but had always dismissed it as friendship and nothing more for fear of getting hurt.  As she was trusted in this moment she knew it finally meant more than that.  She felt her hand being lifted and she watched in wonder as her best friend lifted her hand to her soft lips and pressed them against her fingers.

Her heart was thundering and she was pretty sure she was sweating, it was just a kiss on the hand but she knew it spoke volumes more than that.  She could feel herself shaking as she peeled her lips away from that soft skin and she was overwhelmed by the scent of Maura.  It was a scent she knew from hugs and sleeping next to her but she hadn’t realised how much she had missed it, how much she needed it.

Maura could feel the brunette shaking and she knew she was also trembling.  She reluctantly retrieved her hand and took the brunette’s glass before setting them down on the table beside them.  With shaking hands, she turned to face Jane and took both her hands in her own and squeezed reassuringly.

The tears fell.  She couldn’t hold them back any more and she wasn’t the only one.  The pair of them stood silently crying until Jane couldn’t take it anymore.  She reached up and gently wiped a stream of tears away and then caressed that soft cheek.  She felt Maura echo her actions and sighed gently before relaxing into her touch. “Maur…I-“

Maura moved her hand to cover those soft lips and shook her head softly before moving her fingers to that magnificent jawline and guided her down to her level.  They stilled millimetres apart, breaths mingling knowing that if they took this next step it would change anything.  She wasn’t sure whose eyes closed first or who leaned in to close that gap but once they did all she knew was that this is where she belonged.

She kissed Maura.  Maura was kissing her.  Her mind blanked after those two thoughts.  She was vaguely aware that she had the honey blonde’s face in her hands, she was also semi aware that their bodies had stepped closer together at some point during the kiss and that they were made to be melded against one another.  She wasn’t aware of Maura’s hands until she received a tug to her dark curls pulling her lips away from the kiss.

There was a pout.  Jane Rizzoli pouted and Maura couldn’t help but smile.

Wow. That smile. It was unlike anything she had ever seen – it was wide, and beautiful and free.  She looked so happy and relaxed that Jane could practically feel her walls crumbling, she was putty in this woman’s hands and she had never been like that with anyone, she was always the dominant confident one – now she was a puddle.

Maura took in the contented face in front of her for as long as she could stand it before pulling the brunette back in for another kiss.  This kiss was less reverent but no less tender.  When Jane growled against her lips Maura gasped and the brunette took full advantage of that slipping her tongue between her lips and Maura’s eyes nearly rolled back into her head.  Jane Rizzoli was an outstanding kisser.  Strong hands left her face and anchored themselves at her waist pulling her impossibly closer and again she gasped before sliding the hand that wasn’t tangled in unruly curls down to hipbones that had always fascinated her.

Jane broke the kiss but stayed close, nudging Maura’s nose with her own in an uncharacteristically adorable move and she rolled her eyes at her own sappiness but it was worth it when she was rewarded with a small chuckle and kiss to her nose.

They hadn’t said what they wanted to, they hadn’t said those three words, they hadn’t spoken about anything that mattered…somehow it didn’t matter.  They had finally found each other after years of searching but not realising they were searching for one another.  Nothing else mattered, they could deal with it all when they had to go back to reality, but for now it was just the two of them, and that’s all that mattered.

[rollingpunk-blog]

Sunday, January 8 2017

Sunday. My least favorite day of the week. No, it’s not Monday, like most people dread. It’s Sunday. I’m always nervous for appointments that I have during the weeks, and Sunday is an empty day where I have too much time to think about everything. But enough about that.

Hi, I am Peggy Sue. Give me a moment to introduce myself. I am 18 years old, almost 19, and I live in Eindhoven, The Netherlands with my family. When I was 15 I got diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos type 1, 2, and 7, but often they claim it’s 3. I’ll save you the long sob story for another time, but long story short.. They found out I had scoliosis when I was 10. I had surgery when I was 11, then again when I was 12. After that the dislocations started. Yes, you read that right. Dislocations, as in, my bones moving out of their sockets. It happens several times a day. I can’t really walk anymore without a bone in my legs dislocating, so I have to use a wheelchair whenever I go outside. I am extremely fatigued, and I take a lot of medications for the pain, but over all I try to make the best of it.

The reason why I started this blog, is to be able to write down my thoughts, and share with the world what it’s like to live in a world where being in a wheelchair is not quite that acceptable.

I’ll spill a bit more about myself. I’m quite ‘alternative’, as people like to call it. I listen to a lot of pop-punk bands, I have a lot of piercings and tattoos, and my hair is never in a ‘normal’ hair cut or color. My household exists out of me, my mother, my father, my younger brother, a dog, 8 leopard geckos, 2 tortoises, 2 turtles, a lot of fish, and about 200 snails! Yes, it’s nearly a zoo here, but honestly I love my animals to pieces.

Allow me to start for real now!

Sunday. I opened my eyes and saw my mother sleeping on the couch across from me. My dog laid snuggled up against my legs. It was barely 8AM, and I was already awake. I tossed and turned a bit until I fell back asleep. Luckily I did manage to fall asleep, because I really need to sleep my pills out, otherwise I’d be a zombie through the day.

I sat up and opened the shutter that’s in front of the window halfway, just enough to look outside. The snow that had fallen the night before didn’t look nice, and white, and untouched anymore. Instead it looked flat, dirty and frozen into a big layer of ice. I’m not necessarily a big fan of snow, but there’s something magical about snow that just fell down like a blanket that covered the whole town. Untouched and pure. Something that I long to be. Untouched.

My fathers uncle came to visit, but I was still lazy on the couch while I listened to my family converse with him. The whole afternoon I spent playing board games with my mother, like I spend a lot of my days. It keeps the boredome away and keeps my brain active. We had macaroni for dinner, and spent the night watching TV.

Sunday, January 8 2017. 31 Days until the Modern Baseball concert. 169 days until the blink-182 concert. 11 days until my birthday.

-Peggy Sue