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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 2 years ago

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By: Jon Haidt

Published: Mar 9, 2023

In May 2014, Greg Lukianoff invited me to lunch to talk about something he was seeing on college campuses that disturbed him. Greg is the president of FIRE (the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression), and he has worked tirelessly since 2001 to defend the free speech rights of college students. That almost always meant pushing back against administrators who didn’t want students to cause trouble, and who justified their suppression of speech with appeals to the emotional “safety” of students—appeals that the students themselves didn’t buy. But in late 2013, Greg began to encounter new cases in which students were pushing to ban speakers, punish people for ordinary speech, or implement policies that would chill free speech. These students arrived on campus in the fall of 2013 already accepting the idea that books, words, and ideas could hurt them. Why did so many students in 2013 believe this, when there was little sign of such beliefs in 2011?

Greg is prone to depression, and after hospitalization for a serious episode in 2007, Greg learned CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy). In CBT you learn to recognize when your ruminations and automatic thinking patterns exemplify one or more of about a dozen “cognitive distortions,” such as catastrophizing, black-and-white thinking, fortune telling, or emotional reasoning. Thinking in these ways causes depression, as well as being a symptom of depression. Breaking out of these painful distortions is a cure for depression.

What Greg saw in 2013 were students justifying the suppression of speech and the punishment of dissent using the exact distortions that Greg had learned to free himself from. Students were saying that an unorthodox speaker on campus would cause severe harm to vulnerable students (catastrophizing); they were using their emotions as proof that a text should be removed from a syllabus (emotional reasoning). Greg hypothesized that if colleges supported the use of these cognitive distortions, rather than teaching students skills of critical thinking (which is basically what CBT is), then this could cause students to become depressed. Greg feared that colleges were performing reverse CBT.

I thought the idea was brilliant because I had just begun to see these new ways of thinking among some students at NYU. I volunteered to help Greg write it up, and in August 2015 our essay appeared in The Atlantic with the title: The Coddling of the American Mind. Greg did not like that title; his original suggestion was “Arguing Towards Misery: How Campuses Teach Cognitive Distortions.” He wanted to put the reverse CBT hypothesis in the title.

After our essay came out, things on campus got much worse. The fall of 2015 marked the beginning of a period of protests and high-profile conflicts on campus that led many or most universities to implement policies that embedded this new way of thinking into campus culture with administrative expansions such as “bias response teams” to investigate reports of “microaggressions.” Surveys began to show that most students and professors felt that they had to self-censor. The phrase “walking on eggshells” became common. Trust in higher ed plummeted, along with the joy of intellectual discovery and sense of goodwill that had marked university life throughout my career.

Greg and I decided to expand our original essay into a book in which we delved into the many causes of the sudden change in campus culture. Our book focused on three “great untruths” that seemed to be widely believed by the students who were trying to shut down speech and prosecute dissent:

1. What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker 2. Always trust your feelings 3. Life is a battle between good people and evil people.

Each of these untruths was the exact opposite of a chapter in my first book, The Happiness Hypothesis, which explored ten Great Truths passed down to us from ancient societies east and west. We published our book in 2018 with the title, once again, of The Coddling of the American Mind. Once again, Greg did not like the title. He wanted the book to be called “Disempowered,” to capture the way that students who embrace the three great untruths lose their sense of agency. He wanted to capture reverse CBT.

The Discovery of the Gender-by-Politics Interaction

In September 2020, Zach Goldberg, who was then a graduate student at Georgia State University, discovered something interesting in a dataset made public by Pew Research. Pew surveyed about 12,000 people in March 2020, during the first month of the Covid shutdowns. The survey included this item: “Has a doctor or other healthcare provider EVER told you that you have a mental health condition?” Goldberg graphed the percentage of respondents who said “yes” to that item as a function of their self-placement on the liberal-conservative 5-point scale and found that white liberals were much more likely to say yes than white moderates and conservatives. (His analyses for non-white groups generally found small or inconsistent relationships with politics.)

I wrote to Goldberg and asked him to redo it for men and women separately, and for young vs. old separately. He did, and he found that the relationship to politics was much stronger for young (white) women. You can see Goldberg’s graph here, but I find it hard to interpret a three-way interaction using bar charts, so I downloaded the Pew dataset and created line graphs, which make it easier to interpret.

Here’s the same data, showing three main effects: gender (women higher), age (youngest groups higher), and politics (liberals higher). The graphs also show three two-way interactions (young women higher, liberal women higher, young liberals higher). And there’s an important three-way interaction: it is the young liberal women who are highest. They are so high that a majority of them said yes, they had been told that they have a mental health condition.

Figure 1. Data from Pew Research, American Trends Panel Wave 64. The survey was fielded March 19-24, 2020. Graphed by Jon Haidt.

In recent weeks—since the publication of the CDC’s report on the high and rising rates of depression and anxiety among teens—there has been a lot of attention to a different study that shows the gender-by-politics interaction: Gimbrone, Bates, Prins, & Keyes (2022), titled: “The politics of depression: Diverging trends in internalizing symptoms among US adolescents by political beliefs.” Gimbrone et al. examined trends in the Monitoring the Future dataset, which is the only major US survey of adolescents that asks high school students (seniors) to self-identify as liberal or conservative (using a 5-point scale). The survey asks four items about mood/depression. Gimbrone et al. found that prior to 2012 there were no sex differences and only a small difference between liberals and conservatives. But beginning in 2012, the liberal girls began to rise, and they rose the most. The other three groups followed suit, although none rose as much, in absolute terms, as did the liberal girls (who rose .73 points since 2010, on a 5-point scale where the standard deviation is .89).

Figure 2. Data from Monitoring the Future, graphed by Gimbrone et al. (2022). The scale runs from 1 (minimum) to 5 (maximum).

The authors of the study try to explain the fact that liberals rise first and most in terms of the terrible things that conservatives were doing during Obama’s second term, e.g.,

Liberal adolescents may have therefore experienced alienation within a growing conservative political climate such that their mental health suffered in comparison to that of their conservative peers whose hegemonic views were flourishing.

The progressive New York Times columnist Michelle Goldberg took up the question and wrote a superb essay making the argument that teen mental health is not and must not become a partisan issue. She dismissed Gimbrone et al.’s explanation as having a poor fit with their own data:

Barack Obama was re-elected in 2012. In 2013, the Supreme Court extended gay marriage rights. It was hard to draw a direct link between that period’s political events and teenage depression, which in 2012 started an increase that has continued, unabated, until today.

After examining the evidence, including the fact that the same trends happened at the same time in Britain, Canada, and Australia, Goldberg concluded that “Technology, not politics, was what changed in all these countries around 2012. That was the year that Facebook bought Instagram and the word “selfie” entered the popular lexicon.”

Journalist Matt Yglesias also took up the puzzle of why liberal girls became more depressed than others, and in a long and self-reflective Substack post, he described what he has learned about depression from his own struggles involving many kinds of treatment. Like Michelle Goldberg, he briefly considered the hypothesis that liberals are depressed because they’re the only ones who see that “we’re living in a late-stage capitalist hellscape during an ongoing deadly pandemic w record wealth inequality, 0 social safety net/job security, as climate change cooks the world,” to quote a tweet from the Washington Post tech columnist Taylor Lorenz. Yglesias agreed with Goldberg and other writers that the Lorenz explanation—reality makes Gen Z depressed—doesn’t fit the data, and, because of his knowledge of depression, he focused on the reverse path: depression makes reality look terrible. As he put it: “Mentally processing ambiguous events with a negative spin is just what depression is.”

Yglesias tells us what he has learned from years of therapy, which clearly involved CBT:

It’s important to reframe your emotional response as something that’s under your control: • Stop saying “so-and-so made me angry by doing X.” • Instead say “so-and-so did X, and I reacted by becoming angry.” And the question you then ask yourself is whether becoming angry made things better? Did it solve the problem?

Yglesias wrote that “part of helping people get out of their trap is teaching them not to catastrophize.” He then described an essay by progressive journalist Jill Filipovic that argued, in Yglesias’s words, that “progressive institutional leaders have specifically taught young progressives that catastrophizing is a good way to get what they want.”

Yglesias quoted a passage from Filipovic that expressed exactly the concern that Greg had expressed to me back in 2014:

I am increasingly convinced that there are tremendously negative long-term consequences, especially to young people, coming from this reliance on the language of harm and accusations that things one finds offensive are “deeply problematic” or even violent. Just about everything researchers understand about resilience and mental well-being suggests that people who feel like they are the chief architects of their own life — to mix metaphors, that they captain their own ship, not that they are simply being tossed around by an uncontrollable ocean — are vastly better off than people whose default position is victimization, hurt, and a sense that life simply happens to them and they have no control over their response.

I have italicized Filipovic’s text about the benefits of feeling like you captain your own ship because it points to a psychological construct with a long history of research and measurement: Locus of control. As first laid out by Julian Rotter in the 1950s, this is a malleable personality trait referring to the fact that some people have an internal locus of control—they feel as if they have the power to choose a course of action and make it happen, while other people have an external locus of control—they have little sense of agency and they believe that strong forces or agents outside of themselves will determine what happens to them. Sixty years of research show that people with an internal locus of control are happier and achieve more. People with an external locus of control are more passive and more likely to become depressed.

How a Phone-Based Childhood Breeds Passivity

There are at least two ways to explain why liberal girls became depressed faster than other groups at the exact time (around 2012) when teens traded in their flip phones for smartphones and the girls joined Instagram en masse. The first and simplest explanation is that liberal girls simply used social media more than any other group. Jean Twenge’s forthcoming book, Generations, is full of amazing graphs and insightful explanations of generational differences. In her chapter on Gen Z, she shows that liberal teen girls are by far the most likely to report that they spend five or more hours a day on social media (31% in recent years, compared to 22% for conservative girls, 18% for liberal boys, and just 13% for conservative boys). Being an ultra-heavy user means that you have less time available for everything else, including time “in real life” with your friends. Twenge shows in another graph that from the 1970s through the early 2000s, liberal girls spent more time with friends than conservative girls. But after 2010 their time with friends drops so fast that by 2016 they are spending less time with friends than are conservative girls. So part of the story may be that social media took over the lives of liberal girls more than any other group, and it is now clear that heavy use of social media damages mental health, especially during early puberty.

But I think there’s more going on here than the quantity of time on social media. Like Filipovic, Yglesias, Goldberg, and Lukianoff, I think there’s something about the messages liberal girls consume that is more damaging to mental health than those consumed by other groups.

The Monitoring the Future dataset happens to have within it an 8-item Locus of Control scale. With Twenge’s permission, I reprint one such graph from Generations showing responses to one of the items: “Every time I try to get ahead, something or somebody stops me.” This item is a good proxy for Filipovic’s hypothesis about the disempowering effects of progressive institutions. If you agree with that item, you have a more external locus of control. As you can see in Figure 3, from the 1970s until the mid-2000s, boys were a bit more likely to agree with that item, but then girls rose to match boys, and then both sexes rose continuously throughout the 2010s—the era when teen social life became far more heavily phone-based.

Figure 3. Percentage of boys and girls (high school seniors) who agree with (or are neutral about) the statement “Every time I try to get ahead, something or somebody stops me.” From Monitoring the Future, graphed by Jean Twenge in her forthcoming book Generations.

When the discussion of the gender-by-politics interaction broke out a few weeks ago, I thought back to Twenge’s graph and wondered what would happen if we broke up the sexes by politics. Would it give us the pattern in the Gimbrone et al. graphs, where the liberal girls rise first and most? Twenge sent me her data file (it’s a tricky one to assemble, across the many years), and Zach Rausch and I started looking for the interaction. We found some exciting hints, and I began writing this post on the assumption that we had a major discovery. For example, Figure 4 shows the item that Twenge analyzed. We see something like the Gimbrone et al. pattern in which it’s the liberal girls who depart from everyone else, in the unhealthy (external) direction, starting in the early 2000s.

Figure 4. Percentage of liberal and conservative high school senior boys (left panel) and girls (right panel) who agree with the statement “Every time I try to get ahead, something or somebody stops me.” From Monitoring the Future, graphed by Zach Rausch.

It sure looks like the liberal girls are getting more external while the conservative girls are, if anything, trending slightly more internal in the last decade, and the boys are just bouncing around randomly. But that was just for this one item. We also found a similar pattern for a second item, “People like me don’t have much of a chance at a successful life.” (You can see graphs of all 8 items here.)

We were excited to have found such clear evidence of the interaction, but when we plotted responses to the whole scale, we found only a hint of the predicted interaction, and only in the last few years, as you can see in Figure 5. After trying a few different graphing strategies, and after seeing if there was a good statistical justification for dropping any items, we reached the tentative conclusion that the big story about locus of control is not about liberal girls, it’s about Gen Z as a whole. Everyone—boys and girls, left and right—developed a more external locus of control gradually, beginning in the 1990s. I’ll come back to this finding in future posts as I explore the second strand of the After Babel Substack: the loss of “play-based childhood” which happened in the 1990s when American parents (and British, and Canadian) stopped letting their children out to play and explore, unsupervised. (See Frank Furedi’s important book Paranoid Parenting. I believe that the loss of free play and self-supervised risk-taking blocked the development of a healthy, normal, internal locus of control. That is the reason I teamed up with Lenore Skenazy, Peter Gray, and Daniel Shuchman to found LetGrow.org.)

Figure 5. Locus of Control has shifted slightly but steadily toward external since the 1990s. Scores are on a 5-point scale from 1 = most internal to 5 = most external.

We kept looking in the Monitoring the Future dataset and the Gimbrone et al. paper for other items that would allow us to test Filipovic’s hypothesis. We found an ideal second set of variables: The Monitoring the Future dataset has a set of items on “self derogation” which is closely related to disempowerment, as you can see from the four statements that comprise the scale:

I feel I do not have much to be proud of. Sometimes I think I am no good at all. I feel that I can't do anything right. I feel that my life is not very useful.

Gimbrone et al. had graphed the self-derogation scale, as you can see in their appendix (Figure A.4). But Zach and I re-graphed the original data so that we could show a larger range of years, from 1977 through 2021. As you can see in Figure 6, we find the gender-by-politics interaction. Once again, and as with nearly all of the mental health indicators I examined in a previous post, there’s no sign of trouble before 2010. But right around 2012 the line for liberal girls starts to rise. It rises first, and it rises most, with liberal boys not far behind (as in Gimbrone et al.).

Figure 6. Self-derogation scale, averaging four items from the Monitoring the Future study. Graphed by Zach Rausch. The scale runs from 1 (strongly disagree with each statement) to 5 (strongly agree).

In other words, we have support for Filipovic’s “captain their own ship” concern, and for Lukianoff’s disempowerment concern: Gen Z has become more external in its locus of control, and Gen Z liberals (of both sexes) have become more self-derogating. They are more likely to agree that they “can’t do anything right.” Furthermore, most of the young people in the progressive institutions that Filipovic mentioned are women, and that has become even more true since 2014 when, according to Gallup data, young women began to move to the left while young men did not move either way. As Gen Z women became more progressive and more involved in political activism in the 2010s, it seems to have changed them psychologically. It wasn’t just that their locus of control shifted toward external—that happened to all subsets of Gen Z. Rather, young liberals (including young men) seem to have taken into themselves the specific depressive cognitions and distorted ways of thinking that CBT is designed to expunge.

But where did they learn to think this way? And why did it start so suddenly around 2012 or 2013, as Greg observed, and as Figures 2 and 6 confirm?

Tumblr Was the Petri Dish for Disempowering Beliefs

I recently listened to a brilliant podcast series, The Witch Trials of J. K. Rowling, hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper, created within Bari Weiss’s Free Press. Phelps-Roper interviews Rowling about her difficult years developing the Harry Potter stories in the early 1990s, before the internet; her rollout of the books in the late 90s and early 2000s, during the early years of the internet; and her observations about the Harry Potter superfan communities that the internet fostered. These groups had streaks of cruelty and exclusion in them from the beginning, along with a great deal of love, joy, and community. But in the stunning third episode, Phelps-Roper and Rowling take us through the dizzying events of the early 2010s as the social media site Tumblr exploded in popularity (reaching its peak in early 2014), and also in viciousness. Tumblr was different from Facebook and other sites because it was not based on anyone’s social network; it brought together people from anywhere in the world who shared an interest, and often an obsession.

Phelps-Roper interviewed several experts who all pointed to Tumblr as the main petri dish in which nascent ideas of identity, fragility, language, harm, and victimhood evolved and intermixed. Angela Nagle (author of Kill All Normies) described the culture that emerged among young activists on Tumblr, especially around gender identity, in this way:

There was a culture that was encouraged on Tumblr, which was to be able to describe your unique non-normative self… And that’s to some extent a feature of modern society anyway. But it was taken to such an extreme that people began to describe this as the snowflake [referring to the idea that each snowflake is unique], the person who constructs a totally kind of boutique identity for themselves, and then guards that identity in a very, very sensitive way and reacts in an enraged way when anyone does not respect the uniqueness of their identity.

Nagle described how on the other side of the political spectrum, there was “the most insensitive culture imaginable, which was the culture of 4chan.” The communities involved in gender activism on Tumblr were mostly young progressive women while 4Chan was mostly used by right-leaning young men, so there was an increasingly gendered nature to the online conflict. The two communities supercharged each other with their mutual hatred, as often happens in a culture war. The young identity activists on Tumblr embraced their new notions of identity, fragility, and trauma all the more tightly, increasingly saying that words are a form of violence, while the young men on 4chan moved in the opposite direction: they brandished a rough and rude masculinity in which status was gained by using words more insensitively than the next guy. It was out of this reciprocal dynamic, the experts on the podcast suggest, that today’s cancel culture was born in the early 2010s. Then, in 2013, it escaped from Tumblr into the much larger Twitterverse. Once on Twitter, it went national and even global (at least within the English-speaking countries), producing the mess we all live with today.

I don’t want to tell that entire story here; please listen to the Witch Trials podcast for yourself. It is among the most enlightening things I’ve read or heard in all my years studying the American culture war (along with Jon Ronson’s podcast Things Fell Apart). I just want to note that this story fits perfectly with both the timing and the psychology of Greg’s reverse CBT hypothesis.

Implications and Policy Changes

In conclusion, I believe that Greg Lukianoff was exactly right in the diagnosis he shared with me in 2014. Many young people had suddenly—around 2013—embraced three great untruths:

They came to believe that they were fragile and would be harmed by books, speakers, and words, which they learned were forms of violence (Great Untruth #1).

They came to believe that their emotions—especially their anxieties—were reliable guides to reality (Great Untruth #2).

They came to see society as comprised of victims and oppressors—good people and bad people (Great Untruth #3).

Liberals embraced these beliefs more than conservatives. Young liberal women adopted them more than any other group due to their heavier use of social media and their participation in online communities that developed new disempowering ideas. These cognitive distortions then caused them to become more anxious and depressed than other groups. Just as Greg had feared, many universities and progressive institutions embraced these three untruths and implemented programs that performed reverse CBT on young people, in violation of their duty to care for them and educate them.

I welcome challenges to this conclusion from scholars, journalists, and subscribers, and I will address such challenges in future posts. I must also repeat that I don’t blame everything on smartphones and social media; the other strand of my story is the loss of play-based childhood, with its free play and self-governed risk-taking. But if this conclusion stands (along with my conclusions in previous posts), then I think there are two big policy changes that should be implemented as soon as possible:

1) Universities and other schools should stop performing reverse CBT on their students

As Greg and I showed in The Coddling of the American Mind, most of the programs put in place after the campus protests of 2015 are based on one or more of the three Great Untruths, and these programs have been imported into many K-12 schools. From mandatory diversity training to bias response teams and trigger warnings, there is little evidence that these programs do what they say they do, and there are some findings that they backfire. In any case, there are reasons, as I have shown, to worry that they teach children and adolescents to embrace harmful, depressogenic cognitive distortions.

One initiative that has become popular in the last few years is particularly suspect: efforts to tell college students to avoid common English words and phrases that are said to be “harmful.” Brandeis University took the lead in 2021 with its “oppressive language list.” Brandeis urged its students to stop saying that they would “take a stab at” something because it was unnecessarily violent. For the same reason, they urged that nobody ask for a “trigger warning” because, well, guns. Students should ask for “content warnings” instead, to keep themselves safe from violent words like “stab.” Many universities have followed suit, including Colorado State University, The University of British Columbia, The University of Washington, and Stanford, which eventually withdrew its “harmful language list” because of the adverse publicity. Stanford had urged students to avoid words like “American,” “Immigrant,” and “submit,” as in “submit your homework.” Why? because the word “submit” can “imply allowing others to have power over you.” The irony here is that it may be these very programs that are causing liberal students to feel disempowered, as if they are floating in a sea of harmful words and people when, in reality, they are living in some of the most welcoming and safe environments ever created.

2) The US Congress should raise the age of “internet adulthood” from 13 to 16 or 18

What do you think should be the minimum age at which children can sign a legally binding contract to give away their data and their rights, and expose themselves to harmful content, without the consent or knowledge of their parents? I asked that question as a Twitter poll, and you can see the results here:

Image: See my original tweet.

Of course, this poll of my own Twitter followers is far from a valid survey, and I phrased my question in a leading way, but my phrasing was an accurate statement of today’s status quo. I think that most people now understand that the age of 13, which was set back in 1998 when we didn’t know what the internet would become, is just too low, and it is not even enforced. When my kids started 6th grade in NYC public schools, they each told me that “everyone” was on Instagram.

We are now 11 years into the largest epidemic of adolescent mental illness ever recorded. I know so many families that have been thrown into fear and turmoil by a child’s suicide attempt. You probably do too, given that the recent CDC report tells us that one in ten adolescents now say they have made an attempt to kill themselves. It is hitting all political and demographic groups. The evidence is abundant that social media is a major cause of the epidemic, and perhaps the major cause. It's time we started treating social media and other apps designed for “engagement” (i.e., addiction) like alcohol, tobacco, and gambling, or, because they can harm society as well as their users, perhaps like automobiles and firearms. Adults should have wide latitude to make their own choices, but legislators and governors who care about mental health, women’s health, or children’s health need to step up.

It’s not enough to find more money for mental health services, although that is sorely needed. In addition, we must shut down the conveyer belt so that today’s toddlers will not suffer the same fate in twelve years. Congress should set a reasonable minimum age for minors to sign contracts and open accounts without explicit parental consent, and the age needs to be after teens have progressed most of the way through puberty. (The harm caused by social media seems to be greatest during puberty.) If Congress won’t do it then state legislatures should act. There are many ways to rapidly verify people’s ages online, and I’ll discuss age verification processes in a future post.

In conclusion: All of Gen Z got more anxious and depressed after 2012. But Lukianoff’s reverse CBT hypothesis is the best explanation I have found for Why the mental health of liberal girls sank first and fastest.

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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months ago

Text

Inside Man: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

There's a psychic, Oliver Pryce, who is living in town and who Sam thinks is strong enough to connect to someone in Heaven. He's located two towns over so Sam and Cas immediately head over there.

"Who is this guy?" Cas asks.

"So, back in the '50s, Oliver Pryce was a kid psychic. He performed everywhere--carnivals, Atlantic City, you name it. He was the real deal. The Men of Letters were teaching him how to control his powers when they were killed. The point is, he's one of the good guys. He might be happy to see us."

Sam and Cas approach Oliver's house and see a "No Trespassing" sign on his fence.

"Or not," Cas says.

Sam walks past the fence, walks up the porch steps, and pounds on his front door.

"Mr. Pryce? Oliver Pryce!"

No response.

"I'll break it down," Cas says seriously.

"Dude, chill."

"What? I'm helping." The front door opens and Oliver stands there with a slight glare. "Just follow my lead." Cas turns to the older man. "Mr. Pryce? This is Sam--"

"Winchester. You're Sam Winchester, Man of Letters."

"How did you know?"

"Mind reader, remember?" Oliver's eyes look Cas up and down as he tries to figure out who or what he is. "What are you?"

"I'm an Angel."

"No, you can't be," Oliver frowns.

"Why not?"

"I'm an atheist."

"Not anymore," Sam says. Both he and Cas enter Oliver's house and Oliver escorts them to the living room. There are pictures of Oliver during his younger years hanging on the wall. "Is that you?"

"It was me. I don't do the psychic stuff anymore. Being around people, it's kind of... Hell, all those brains yapping all the time drive a guy bananas."

"Because you can hear everyone's thoughts?" Cas asks.

"Well, not yours. All I'm getting from you is colors. The hippie over here? I'm seeing some creep-ass hobbit-lookin' fella and a prison cell?"

Sam frowns at being called a hippie but lets it go.

"That's Heaven's jail," Cas says.

"Heaven's got a fucking jail?"

"Yeah, it does, and we're looking to break someone out of it. We have an inside man but we need your help to talk to him."

"If I say no?"

"You're the mind reader," Sam smirks.

"I'll get my shit," Oliver sighs. Oliver sets his living room up like one of his seance sessions and sits in between Sam and Cas. Candles cover the surface of the table and a small radio sits in the middle of the table. "Do you have anything that belonged to the deceased?"

"Yeah, right here."

Sam pulls out Bobby's hat and sets it on the table. If anyone will have enough motivation to help you and Dean, it's your dad.

"Good. Now shut up and hold hands."

All three men do and Oliver begins chanting something in Latin. The lights start to flicker, the table shakes slightly, and the candles start shooting flames from the wicks. Once Oliver is done chanting, he opens his eyes and nods to Sam.

"Bobby? Bobby, can you hear me?" Silence. "Bobby, we need your help."

"Sam?"

Bobby's voice comes from the radio in the middle of the table. Sam doesn't know how long this connection will last so he speaks fast and tells Bobby everything that has been happening with you and Dean.

"Y/N is turning into a monster, Bobby. She's soulless and pretty soon, your daughter won't be your daughter. She'll be beyond saving. Anyway, that's the short version of what's been happening. Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Bobby says thickly. "What about Joanna?"

Sam looks at Cas.

"All I know is that they're safe. She's a witch again, Bobby, which means she can read minds. Dean and I can't know where they are."

"They? There's more than just Joanna?"

"We don't have time to get into this right now, Bobby."

"Okay, just so I'm hearing this right, you have to figure out a way to get the Mark of Cain off Dean before he turns back into a demon and off Y/N before she goes postal?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So, just another day at the office for you boys, huh? Put Dean on the line."

"Dean's not here. Y/N isn't either."

"Why not?"

"Y/N threatened her kids. She made him promise not to look for the cure or else she'll find her kids and kill them. She doesn't want this cure, Bobby. Dean's distracting her right now. I never made any promise to find the cure."

"Shit," Bobby sighs. "Alright, what's the plan?"

"Each soul in Heaven is locked in its own private paradise," Cas explains. "That's where you are now. You need to escape. You need to find the gate to Earth and open it. Then you and I will find Metatron, the Scribe of God."

"Hey, Sam, you remember when this job was just chopping up some fang and tossing back a cold one?"

"I miss that," Sam sighs.

"Ditto. So, while I'm playing Steve McQueen, is anyone gonna be looking for me?"

"Everyone," Cas answers. "The Angels will not like a soul wandering free."

"Do you have a way to slow them down?"

"Not exactly. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Bobby. You always do."

"Listen, I appreciate the warm and fuzzy, but I ain't exactly playing on the big leagues these days. I'm mostly drinking and reading the classics. Truth is, I'm rusty and maybe there's somebody better out there."

"Bobby, there isn't. I'm telling you, if you love Y/N and Dean in the way I know you do, you'll do this for them... for me."

Bobby takes two deep breaths before scoffing.

"Hell, I'm already dead. What's the worst that could happen? What do I need to do?"

"You need to find your Heaven's escape hatch. Look for something that shouldn't be there, and that's your way out."

"If I find a way out, then what?"

"You'll be in a long hallway with a bunch of doors. The gate to Earth will be behind number forty-two."

"Okay."

Bobby gets off his ass and starts looking around in the small room he always stays in and drinks. Nothing seems out of the ordinary but there is something on the carpet he only notices until now. A small white string is sticking out of the carpet he's standing on. He reaches down and pulls on it, and a doorway opens on the back wall. White light pours from it and he smirks.

"Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

The second that Bobby steps through the door into the hallway, the connection to Bobby is severed. Sam and Cas, after thanking Oliver, head back to the playground. They stay stuck in the shadows so the angels don't suspect anything. All they have to do is wait for Bobby to open the gate and Cas can go through without a hitch.

"This better work. I need my brother and best friend back," Sam sighs.

"You sure he can handle this?" Cas asks.

"He's Bobby. He can handle anything, especially when it comes to his daughter."

The second Bobby sets foot into the hallway, the alarm blares and he bangs his fist on the wall.

"Balls!"

If Bobby doesn't do something now, the angels will come for him and ruin everything. He looks at the endless doors in the hallway and gets an idea. He starts opening up all the doors and calling out for their occupants. Before he knows it, a ton of people are wandering the halls looking confused. That's when the angels come including Hannah.

"What? Find out how this happened," Hannah says to one of the other angels. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I need you to return to your Heavens in a calm, orderly manner."

"Oh, yeah? Well, who made you boss?" Bobby says loudly.

"Right?"

"Who the hell you think do you are?" another person asks.

This causes an outrage where the souls are trying to fight back against the angels. Bobby uses this and escapes while the angels are occupied. He slips into another hallway and searches for door forty-two. When he finds it, he pushes it open. Sam and Cas have been waiting patiently for Bobby to find the door. A rift opens from above the sandbox and the two men jump into action. Sam runs to keep the guarding angels back while Cas runs for the door.

"Go! Go!" Sam says and tackles one of the angels to the ground.

Cas jumps through the door of Heaven and slides on the floor right in front of Bobby.

"Welcome to the party," Bobby chuckles. Bobby helps Cas to his feet and pats him on the back. "So, I need you to tell me how bad it really is."

"Um..."

"Cas, what's happening?"

"Dean is angry all the time. Y/N doesn't have a soul. Dean has it. He sucked her soul out of her when Metatron killed him. He tainted hers as dark as his so we're waiting for her soul to purify before we can put it back in."

"Does Dean know you're here?"

"He knows we're looking for a way to get the Mark off. He doesn't know you're involved. Y/N doesn't know anything. If she does, she will hurt your granddaughters and grandson."

"Wait." Bobby stops Cas from walking and gets tears in his eyes. "I have three grandchildren?"

If he doesn't know about Maryann, he doesn't know about Robert and what happened to him.

"Maryann was born two years after Joanna. She was a twin. Robert, your grandson, didn't make it. He was a stillborn. Noah is adopted. Y/N found him at a time when they needed each other."

"I have three grandkids," Bobby whispers to himself.

"You might not if Y/N continues down this road."

Cas leads Bobby to the prison where Metatron currently is. He looks up when the two men enter and grins knowingly.

"Well, howdy, fellas."

"This is the Scribe of God? He looks like a Fraggle," Bobby scoffs.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment. That was an excellent program."

"Metatron, we are here--"

"I know why you're here, Asstiel, and I'm not interested. I told you I would rather die than let Dean and Y/N Winchester use me as their personal punching bag again."

"Don't worry. They're not involved. You're gonna be my punching bag," Cas glares.

"Ah, the B team, huh? Interesting. Keys are over there." Metatron points to the keys hanging on the wall. "Chop chop!"

"Are you sure this is the only way?" Bobby asks.

"Unfortunately."

Sam killed both angels so they wouldn't blab to the other ones of what Cas did. He's been waiting patiently by the car for the door to Heaven to open again. It's been about two hours when it finally opens, and Cas steps out with Metatron. Bobby isn't with him. He didn't think he would be.

"Sam-tastic! Miss me?" Metatron sniffs the air. "Oh, smell that? That smells like freedom. Well, let's go. I call shotgun!"

Metatron tries walking to the car but Cas pulls him back by his jacket collar.

"You don't get to make demands, Metatron. You're not in charge here."

"Oh, I'm afraid I am. I know about the Mark. I have your Grace. I make the rules. It's called leverage, boys. Learn it, live it, love it."

Sam and Cas look at each other, and the Winchester nods to the angel once. Without blinking, Cas slides out his angel blade and slices Metaron's neck horizontally. It's not to kill him, no, it's to steal his Grace. He did it so fast that Metatron didn't have enough time to react. Before he knows it, his Grace is trapped in a small container Sam brought.

Metatron is human.

Knowing he won't heal from this, Sam takes out his gun and shoots Metatron in the leg. The former angel screams in pain and falls on his ass while reaching for his bleeding leg.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"We have your Grace, Metatron. You're mortal now. So, you will answer our questions or Sam will, what's the phrase?" Cas' voice deepens angrily. "Blow your fucking brains out. It's called leverage, Metatron."

"Learn it, live it, love it," Sam smirks. "How do we get rid of the Mark?"

"I don't know," Metatron stutters. Sam aims the gun at his head and the former angel backs away in fear. "I don't know! It's old magic, God-level magic! Or Lucifer level, but you can't ask him, exactly, can you?"

"What about the tablets?"

"No, there's nothing in them about the Mark," he stutters again.

"So, when you said, 'The river ends at the source,' that was--"

"I was just making up shit, trying to buy time till I could screw you over. It worked before."

"He's telling the truth," Cas says. His eyes darken. "Shoot him."

Sam raises his gun without question, dead set on killing Metatron.

"No, no! No!" Metatron panics. "Your Grace! I wasn't lying about that. There's still some left. I'll take you to it."

"It's your call, Cas."

"I have to get my Grace back, Sam," Cas whispers.

Metatron is relieved that he isn't going to die today. Cas shoves him into the back of the car but before Sam can get behind the wheel, Cas stops him. He reaches into his trenchcoat and pulls out two envelopes.

"Listen, Bobby asked me to give you these. One is for you and Dean. The other is for Y/N. Don't give it to her until her soul is returned."

"Okay. Thanks," Sam whispers.

If he gives it to you now, you'll destroy this and you'd be heartbroken if you destroyed something you can't ever get back.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years ago

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Letters to My Love // Part V

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.7k

Author’s Note: As always, if you’re interested in learning more about the historical context of any of the letters, or if you have any questions about anything that gets discussed, feel free to reach out! I will say that Bob’s mother’s remedy for influenza that gets mentioned in this chapter was a real “home cure” that people used to use back in the day!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story!

The title for this chapter comes from The Andrews Sisters song of the same name.

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to @luminousnotmatter. I could thank you endlessly for all the love and support!

Warnings: Alternating POV, references to war and its impact, mentions of rationing, discussion of war casualties and death, references to church and prayer, a ton of fluff as always.

October 12, 1942

Dear Peach,

First of all, I want to start by saying that I’m so sorry for the troubles your family went through at the end of the summer. Little Frankie sounds like quite the trooper, but I’m sure it must have been hard on all of you to see him so sick like that. I’m real, real glad to hear that he’s on the mend. Dottie, too.

It’s funny—even though I’ve never met her, it’s not hard at all for me to believe that your sister was one of the few babies who survived the Spanish Flu back in 1918. From everything you’ve shared with me, it sounds like it would take a lot to break Dottie Sheridan. I’d bet my last dollar that she gives Paddy a run for his money on a regular basis. Maybe don’t tell her I said that though. I do want her to like me, should we ever get to meet in person one day.

You know, a couple summers back, my little brothers ended up coming down with a case of influenza. It seemed as though they picked it up from some of the kids they’d been playing with. It might sound crazy, but my mother would take a handkerchief, sprinkle it with whiskey, and make my brothers inhale the fumes every night before they went to bed. I don’t know where she learned that remedy, but would you believe that the two of them were right as rain after just four days? I’m confident that everyone in your household is the picture of health now, but you might want to give it a try should anyone else come down with the flu. I can’t explain it, but it did seem to do the trick!

I’ll selfishly admit that the weeks that went by without receiving a letter from you were desolate ones indeed. I received a couple letters from home, which were wonderful, but I found that my mind kept wandering back to sunny Charleston instead of the farmlands of Iowa. When I finally saw your handwriting on the envelope they handed me during Mail Call, it took everything in me not to jump up and down like a fool and make a scene. Just like you, I’ve been rereading your letters each night before lights out. I know we haven’t been exchanging messages for long, but each one lifts my spirits more than you could know. And around these parts, that’s a real special thing.

Despite being so far away from home and from everything that’s familiar and comfortable, when I close my eyes and imagine sharing a slice of your mama’s peach tart or getting to dance with you again and hear your pretty voice, I feel as though everything’s going to be alright. Even if the feeling only lasts for a minute or two, it gives me something to hold onto in the moments when it feels like maybe the world really is going to pieces. So thank you for that. Your kindness and your sweet words of encouragement are helping me get through this war, minute by minute and day by day.

I think, if you’re agreeable to it, that I’d really like to take you up on your offer to show you the world one day. Maybe even from up in the air. I may be Paul’s backseat gunner, but I know a thing or two about piloting an aircraft. You can trust me. Any places in particular you’d like to see, Peach? I’m all ears.

I promise you that I am most certainly NOT remembering you through rose-colored glasses. If you remember, my glasses are very much of the non-rose-tinted variety. But they do aid my vision, which helped me to see that night back in May just how absolutely swell you are. I hope it doesn’t embarrass you if I say that I still remember the way your smile put the stars to shame that night on King Street. And though I know no rehearsal is necessary, it does make me quite happy to think that you’ll be practicing a song with me in mind. I know any song you pick will be beautiful, but how about “Someone to Watch Over Me?” It was the first song we danced to, after all. And I’m sure you’ll knock it out of the park. If Gershwin was still alive, I know he’d be thrilled to hear someone doing such justice to his music.

I’ll have you know that it took me quite some time to get the peace and quiet I needed to write this letter because Tommy Boy and Benny simply would not stop chattering in my ear. At first, it was just more of their usual advice—most of which, for your sake, I don’t actually take—but then I realized they were trying to pass along messages of their own to you! I very clearly, and perhaps a bit selfishly, told them that you were my pen pal and that they’d just have to go find some of their own. Benny pouted a bit, but Tommy Boy just grinned, slapped me on the shoulder, and told me he’d never been prouder.

They both say hello, by the way. I did agree to pass that much along.

Paul’s sitting near me right now, writing his own letter home to Natasha and the kids. He wanted me to thank you for your prayers and for your kind words. He’s not one to get all mushy most of the time, but I can tell that your thoughts for him and his family really do mean a lot to him. And he said he’s definitely going to take you up on that jewelry offer when we get home. He may have made some comment about buttering Natasha up when we finally return home, after leaving her alone with two babies for so long. Although, now that I think about it, my little goddaughter, Clara always insists that she’s a big girl. So I’m sure she would take great offense at me referring to her as a baby. Promise you won’t tell on me?

Peach, I hope you know how truly extraordinary you are. I find it just about impossible to believe that people don’t take notice of you. To me, that feels like people taking a stroll outside and not taking notice of the sun. But it means more to me than words can say that you can relate to me in that way. Feeling like you see me, like you really understand me—that doesn’t happen to me often. Especially not with girls as lovely as you. I’m very much looking forward to us getting to know each other better and better.

As far as childhood stories go, I want to make it very clear that Paul and Natasha were solely responsible for any and all mischief that was had in our youth. I was very much just along for the ride. I promise you that it wasn’t my idea to put frogs in our mean teacher’s purse during the school picnic when we were in the third grade. And I certainly wasn’t the one who kidnapped our class hamster so that he could “live a life of freedom in the great outdoors.” Though I will admit I may have been present when the crime was committed. I was a very nerdy and awkward kid, which I’m sure isn’t hard at all for you to imagine, so I do have to credit Paul and Natasha with providing me with some of the most exciting and interesting moments of my life. There’s hardly a memory I have that doesn’t involve the two of them. I think you and Natasha would get on wonderfully. Maybe one day, the two of you will get to meet.

What about you, Miss Peach? Were you a rebel growing up in Georgia, or a goody two shoes like me?

I’m glad to hear that President Roosevelt is keeping you all informed back home, but I’m sorry to hear that the prices are still going up. I know you already mentioned that they started rationing sugar. I hope more rations aren’t coming your way, but, truth be told, I have a sinking feeling that they will be. We’ve been burning through supplies like crazy over here, and it always feels like a scramble to get more of what we need. But I’d still hate to think of you or anyone else having to go without. It just doesn’t seem right. But then, I suppose a lot in this world doesn’t feel right at the moment.

Thank you for sharing the president’s words with me, Peach. I passed them on to the rest of the fellas, and we’re all mighty appreciative of it. I have to say, even if it was Roosevelt’s words, they sounded a lot sweeter coming from you. My safety and comfort feel like a small price to pay if it means that you and my family and the rest of the good folks back home get to rest well each night.

I hate to end my letter to you on a sad note, but thinking of men who aren’t concerned about themselves makes me think of some of the boys that we just lost recently. Just last week, in fact. They weren’t part of my squadron, but I did know several of them. They were a couple years ahead of me at Annapolis, and they were bunking on the carrier with my squadron. Good men, every single one of them. They were shot down during what was supposed to be a fairly routine fly-over. They leave behind mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, fiancées, sweethearts, and friends. But I think a part of them will still be here, so long as those of us who remember them are still around. They were men, like President Roosevelt said, who put duty and country before themselves. And they deserve to be remembered.

We also recently lost some enlisted men—some sailors on a nearby carrier. We’d gotten to know them pretty well these past few months, and it was a tough blow. I was saddest to learn about the death of a boy named Timmy [REDACTED]. I say boy because that’s what he was. We got to talking one night, him and I, and he admitted to me that he was only sixteen. He’d lied about his age and somehow managed to squeak on by—my guess is that with the draft on, they’re willing to look the other way when boys jump up to volunteer. Sixteen years old. I tell you, I don’t think I could have stomached this at sixteen. I can barely stomach it now at twenty-two. I promised him I wouldn’t tell, and I feel a little guilty to be breaking that promise now that he’s gone, but I think someone else besides me should know how brave he was. He gave everything he had for the family and the country that he loved. I know I’ll never forget him. I know I keep piling more and more names on your list, but maybe you can remember him, too? That way, his legacy will live on. I think he’d be happy to know that.

If any of my letters ever feel like too much to you, Peach, please let me know. I don’t want to unburden my own heart at the cost of your peace of mind. I’m thankful for all the ways you listen and make me feel heard, even with the entire Atlantic in between us. Just getting these words down on paper, knowing that you’ll be reading them soon, fills me with a great sense of calm. Has anyone ever told you what a great pen pal you are?

My mother wouldn’t be happy if she heard me admitting this, but sometimes I’m so dead tired at the end of the night that I fall asleep without saying my prayers. On the nights that I do manage to stay awake, however, I pray for you right after my family, you and Paddy and Dottie and Frankie. I pray that you’re safe and happy and well. I’m always glad to hear that it’s so.

Goodbye for now, Peach. I look forward to your next letter, as I always do.

Very Sincerely Yours,

Bobby

November 3, 1942

Dear Bobby,

I was so thrilled to receive your last letter in the mail, but I admit that I was crying like a baby by the end of it. I’m so sorry for the friends that you lost, especially young Timmy. Sorry always seems like such a trite thing to say in the face of such a tragedy, doesn’t it? It doesn’t feel like it encompasses even half of the pain and the grief and the sorrow that follow in the wake of such horror. But for lack of any other words that would suffice, I’m afraid that “I’m sorry” is all that I can say. Please know that I mean it from the very bottom of my heart.

I hope you don’t mind, but I showed the last part of your letter to Dottie. She walked into the kitchen and was very concerned about why I was such a bawling mess, so I thought it would be better if she heard it directly from you. My big sister is much less prone to tears than I am, but even she cried when she read your beautiful tribute to that young man. We went to church the next day and lit candles in honor of Timmy and all the young men who were lost. I’m so incredibly touched that you would want to share their memories with me, Bobby. I will most certainly treasure them in my heart and pass them along to anyone I can. I don’t want them to be forgotten either. I don’t think anyone deserves to be forgotten. Everyone leaves their mark on this world, no matter how tiny it might seem to others. Even at just sixteen, Timmy clearly left his mark.

I can only begin to imagine what it must be like for you over there, flying dangerous missions yourself and watching those around you, men who you’ve shared laughs and good times with, make that final sacrifice. Please don’t ever feel like you can’t share it with me, Bobby. If you have to live it every day, and face that reality, then the very least I can do is lend a listening ear. I’m always here for you, whatever you need to get off your chest.

To be honest, you’re the first real pen pal I’ve ever had. I’m glad to hear that I’m doing a good job, because I happen to think you’re a terrific pen pal, and I wouldn’t want to let you down in return. It’s kind of funny—when I’m sitting down to read your letters or write one of my own, I sometimes forget that there’s an entire ocean between us. Sometimes, when I read your words, it feels like you’re right here next to me. I can hear your voice, even if it was so long ago now that we were last together. And it just makes it all feel so real to me. You’re a rather wonderful writer, you know.

Hm, now let’s see. Which part of your wonderful letter should I respond to next? I have it laid out in front of me right now, so that I don’t miss or forget anything. Should we discuss your mother’s rather unorthodox cure for the flu? I’d never heard of whiskey in a handkerchief before! I thought Paddy was going to split his sides from laughing so hard when I told him and Dottie. He said that he’s not so sure he should be sticking booze in his baby’s face, but that he’d be more than happy to try that remedy himself! We’d only ever been aware of good, old-fashioned chicken noodle soup and lots of rest. I’m hoping we don’t have another influenza scare any time soon, but we’ll be sure to try the whiskey trick if we do.

Now as for seeing the world—I’ve never been flying before. On the one hand, it seems very exciting and exhilarating, but on the other hand, it seems like the most terrifying prospect in the world. Bless those Wright brothers for being the first ones to give it a go. I suppose if I ever wanted to expand my horizons, however, I’d have to get on an airplane. Ocean liners aren’t exactly the most efficient means of travel. And if I’d trust anyone to take me up in the air for the first time, it would be you, Bobby. Like I mentioned once before, my parents went to Paris for their honeymoon, so I’ve always wanted to see it. Did you know that they call it the city of love? I suppose it must be very romantic with a nickname like that. I’ve also always wanted to see Italy—the Colosseum, the Pantheon, all that amazing art. I imagine it must be so magical. Maybe not right this moment, but Rome has certainly survived its fair share of catastrophes, if I remember my history correctly. I’m sure it will survive this, too.

How about you, Bobby? What parts of the world would you like to see when all of this is over?

“Someone to Watch Over Me” is one of my favorite songs. And now every time I hear it, I think of you and that dance we shared at the USO. If that’s the song that you’d like to hear, then I’ll happily start practicing it right away. Mr. Gershwin certainly knew what he was doing when it came to composing, didn’t he?

Don’t tell them this—we wouldn’t want them getting big heads now—but I always find it to be a delight when you share stories of Tommy Boy and Benny. It makes me so happy to know that you have such good friends over there with you. And I always get a good laugh, imagining their antics. You must have the patience of a saint, Bobby, to put up with all of it. As I’ve said before, I know all too well what it’s like to have to hide away to carve out a little peace for letter writing—Dottie is constantly trying to throw her two cents in whenever she can. I actually have Frankie to thank for my solitude at the moment. He’s been a bit fussy, so Dottie hurried off to check on him. I adore my sister more than life itself, but even I can admit that it’s a bit easier to concentrate when she’s distracted.

I absolutely cross my heart that I will never let it slip past my lips that you called our young Clara a baby. It will be our little secret. I’m sure she and Natasha and Paul, Jr. will be thrilled to receive the letter Paul’s writing to them. Paul sounds like such a wonderful husband and father. He reminds me of Paddy in that way. The two of them seem to have a lot in common. Tell Paul that I’m more than happy to lend any assistance I can to helping him pick out the perfect gift for buttering up his wife. Trust me, I’ve helped my dear brother-in-law do it on more than one occasion.

Speaking of Paul and Natasha, I’m shocked to learn they were such little hooligans when the three of you were growing up. Frogs in your teacher’s purse? Kidnapping the classroom hamster? What kind of trouble did you not get into, I should ask? I think that perhaps you were more of a little rebel than you’re willing to admit, Ensign Floyd. I myself was quite the prim and proper little lady growing up back home in Georgia. Believe me, I was much too shy to be getting into any sort of trouble with anyone. Truth be told, I really sort of kept to myself, even when I was a child. But I always had Dottie, thank goodness. She’s four years older, and she’s always looked out for me. She’s my best friend and my biggest champion. It would be lovely to get to meet Natasha one day, too. Any friend of yours must be a delightful person who I’m sure I would like very much.

Your words are sweet as honey, Bobby, and make me feel just as warm and cozy inside. Whenever I’m having a difficult day, or the weight of the world’s troubles feel like they’re pressing down on me, I read your letters and they never fail to make me smile. I always knew that there were good men out there in the world—my father and Paddy have always been prime examples of that to me—but I think I was starting to doubt that there were many men left who were truly kind and good-hearted. You put those fears in my heart to rest. You are such a good man. I know we haven’t known each other long, and that most of our conversations have been through letters, but your warmth and your kindness always shine through.

I may not be able to speak to how unhappy your mother would be to learn about you falling asleep before your prayers—I like to think she’d understand, given the circumstances—but I can say with total confidence, despite never having met her, that she would be very happy and proud to know just what kind of man her oldest son is. I’m sure she already knows and is already so proud.

I keep you in my prayers every night, too, Bobby. You and Paul and his family and Tommy Boy and Benny, and all the rest of your squadron. All I ask for is that you all come home safely. And soon.

You’re in my thoughts. I look forward, as always, to your next letter, whenever it may arrive.

Affectionately Yours,

Peach

P.S. I almost forgot to mention that it was Frankie’s first Halloween! Unfortunately, the annual parade in town was canceled, but everyone still decorated and the children in the neighborhood got to go trick-or-treating. Dottie made Frankie a little pumpkin costume—he was the cutest little pumpkin you ever did see! We still have some candy lying around the house, which I wish I could send to you. Did Clara, Paul, Jr., and your brothers dress up this year? I hope they had lots of fun!

#robert bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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transmutationisms · 1 year ago

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hii, do you have any reading recs for where to start in terms of the history of medicine? thank you so much and i adore reading your succession analysis

if you're new to this subfield i would recommend starting out by just thumbing through the cambridge history of medicine (2006, ed. roy porter). you don't have to read every word in here, but definitely the introduction and any chapters that look particularly relevant to your interests. there are also some medical chapters scattered throughout the cambridge history of science volumes. cambridge volumes are often limited to europe and north america, and they're generally not methodologically daring, so you don't want to get stuck on them forever. but as a starting point, they can help you start to recognise a few influential names in the field, and give you a sense of what the history of medicine 'canon' is & draws from.

after that you can start to get more specific. history of medicine is a bit of a misnomer field in that it contains a few distinct-but-overlapping subject areas: histories of diseases themselves (this will cross into history of biology, paleo-virology, molecular archaeology, genetics, &c); histories of sickness (often drawing from affect theory, disability studies, and history of emotions); histories of medical practice and practitioners (philosophy of health and medicine, labour history, studies of class and discipline formation, military history); histories of public health (broader population thinking, archaeology and anthropology, history of hygiene, history of state formation and biopolitics); histories of medical devices and instruments (history of technology, material history, economic and industrial history). you'll also serve yourself well if you have some sense of specific time periods and places you're interested in—not that i'm telling you to be close-minded, but it just helps if you have some idea of what you're looking for.

you are more than welcome to come back and ask about a more specific sub-topic :-) since you've basically given me free reign, i'll just toss out a few histmed books i've particularly enjoyed, in no particular order:

medicalizing blackness: making racial difference in the atlantic world, 1780–1840, by rana hogarth (2017)

the expressiveness of the body and the divergence of greek and chinese medicine, by shigehisa kuriyama (1999)

doctoring traditions: ayurveda, small technologies, and braided sciences, by projit mukharji (2016)

plague and empire in the early modern mediterranean world: the ottoman experience, 1347–1600, by nukhet varlık (2015)

killing the black body: race, reproduction, and the meaning of liberty, by dorothy roberts (1997)

hearing happiness: deafness cures in history, by jaipreet virdi (2020)

pasteur's empire: bacteriology and politics in france, its colonies, and the world, by aro velmet (2020)

contagion: disease, government, and the 'social question' in nineteenth-century france, by andrew aisenberg (1999)

colonial madness: psychiatry in french north africa, by richard keller (2007)

curing the colonizers: hydrotherapy, climatology, and french colonial spas, by eric t jennings (2006)

ideals of the body: architecture, urbanism, and hygiene in postrevolutionary paris, by sun-young park (2018)

#history of medicine

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half-life-citizen · 10 months ago

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A rundown of the flumblr Crimson peak watch party.

As you may or may not know, we recently had a watch party of the Guillmero Del Toro film Crimson Peak, I won't talk spoilers, but will mention some plot details.

It was organised by @thedeafprophet and @the-dye-stained-socialite, who streamed it in a discord.

The discord was made specially for the watch party, being set up a few days before the actual event, and invites opened at around the same time.

The setup:

As I previously mentioned, the server was open for a few days prior to the event, with a few members of the flumblr community joining, myself included.

A few emotes were made, mainly joking in matter. They included some amazing art by @the-insouciant-scientist of the endgame professions.

Some channels were made about the movie, spoilers permitted in one and not the other.

As well as some lovely conversation, the testing for the jackbox games was set up, and a few games were played.

The Pre-Show

As the date; March 9th came, more people flooded into the server, and said people began to talk.

The conversation really began to pick up 2 hours before the show, with many people preparing food for the event, such as pasta, or popcorn.

But there was a casualty.

In their unending hubris; one of the event organisers, prophet, created a quiche too powerful and deadly for any human to handle, and launched a quiche blast across the Atlantic, hitting the bowl of pasta I had made, knocking it to the floor, destroying it.

I am warning you, the image of the quiche pictured below may be too horrible to imagine, to even think about without the edges of your mind falling apart like wet paper.

You have been warned.

And the unleasher of the quiche admitting to their crimes

After this horrible event, I was left scarred, but more importantly, in lack of food. I thought nothing of it and ordered food for later that night.

I thought I'd also mention the loaf of bread made by @zeebreezin

Just a good solid loaf.

After the quiche incident, the conversation just moved along from topics of food and ended up continuing until the time of the event beginning.

The Beginning:

An executive decision was made to wait 10 minutes or so for people to arrive, just to make sure nobody would miss anything.

At 8:12 IST, the watch party had begun in full swing. People sat on chairs, beds, and couches, and were all tuned into a 720p possibly illegal stream of a movie from 2015.

As previously mentioned, I won't go into spoilers in this writeup, but I will mention characters and plot points, but nothing particular.

For this write up, I will go over some of the main characters featured in this film with a simple bio.

Edith: an aspiring author who's wealthy businessman father who disapproves of her relationship with Thomas Sharpe

Thomas Sharpe: an owner of a crumbling estate slowly sinking into the clay mines below the house, he seeks funding for a digging machine to help revitalise the mines.

Lucille Sharp: Thomas's older sister, seemingly distant from the world.

Dr Alan McMicheal: Blonde doctor guy

Ferguson: appears on screen for a total of two seconds, I expected him to come back later.

The slop: liquid clay, looks tasty and probably cures anemia.

As the movie began, everybody who hadn't seen the movie before immediately distrusted Thomas Sharpe, myself included.

As the movie continued, I began keeping two counters and a constant rating.

These were

1: the gun counter

2: the violence counter

And 3: the beard rating

The gun counter was simple, every gun on screen would add 1 point to the total.

The violence counter was every scene of violence in the movie; not act of violence. So a scene of someone getting punched twice would still only count as one.

And the beard rating, where I rated all the beards visible to me during the watch.

Anyways, as the movie progressed, a common theme appeared in the chat.

Manic slop posting.

The slop (pictured below) is the liquid form of the red clay the Sharpe household is slowly sinking into, a deep and rich colour that makes your mouth water slightly.

In my personal opinion, the slop is the single best character in the movie.

I will not explain myself.

As well as slopposting™, during scenes of intense violence people would start talking about the blood; and honestly? Good for them.

I wish I could go into more detail about the events of the movie, but I really urge you to watch it yourself, it's violent and very heartfelt.

Also slop.

now, about half way through the movie, I told the chat I needed to check for the pizza I had ordered over an hour and a half prior to the movie starting, and The Powers That Be graciously granted us an intermission, we're I called my pizza place 4 times and they never picked up, so I was forced to wait another 30 minutes for my pizza.

I did get it eventually.

The rest of the watch party was not uneventful, with a lot of jokes and gasps as the movie continued telling its story.

But all good things must come to an end, and as the final scene cut to black; the end began.

The aftermath:

Most people left after the movie ended, leaving around 8 people left to play some jackbox as the night continued.

Nothing major really happened, (except for prophet finding out the truth behind Easter eggs), so here are a few funny screenshots from the games I was in, I even won one of them

As a bit of a final note, I really have to thank everybody involved. It was a really fun little event, and any more in the future, I'd be glad to participate in.

SLOP!!!!!

#not putting this in the main tag #reblog if you want #really fun time

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imawkwardlysoc · 2 years ago

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i'm about to take you back to church

Song- Church by Chase Atlantic

Pairing- CEO!Phoenix x female!reader

Warning(s)- 18+, MDNI, mommy kink, fingering, oral sex, aftercare

Summary- Natasha going feral after seeing you in your dress.

Wordcount- 1,129

A/N- Happy pride month y'all and here ya go sluts (loving)!

Looking at the time on the clock on my bedside table, I silently cured myself and finished getting ready. Putting on the last of my makeup, heels, and shoes, I grabbed my clutch and headed down the stairs. Checking myself in the mirror, I smoothed down the velvet blue dress before leaving the house.

“Thanks for waiting,” I thanked Charles, Natasha and I’s driver, as I got into the car.

“It’s no problem,” I saw his reflection in the mirror. “Thankfully she already knows that I’m running late. So speed it?”

“Got it,” he winked and started the car.

On the drive to the venue, I sent a message to Natasha that I was on the way and did one last minute touch-up on my outfit. As we got closer to the venue, I started to play with the diamond tennis bracelet that Natasha got me for our two year anniversary to calm my nerves. Even though we’ve been together for almost four years, going to these events still makes me nervous.

“We’re here,” Charles announced as he pulled up to the venue. “Have a fun time.”

“Oh yes, faking to enjoy business proposals is fun,” I chuckled. “Have a nice evening Charles.”

“You too,” he smiled and I headed out of the car.

Walking up the stairs of the museum, I handed one of the security guards my invite and walked in. Letting out a breath, I walked into the main area and searched for Natasha.

“Looking for Nat aren’t you?” Robert, Natasha’s CCO, asked as he walked up to me with two glasses of champagne in his hand.

“Robert,” I smiled and accepted the flute of champagne from his hand before giving him a kiss on his cheek. “And you are right. How are you though?”

“I’m doing pretty well,” he smiled as we walked to where Natasha was.

On our walk there, we said hello to some of the partner’s Natasha’s company has while making small talk with them. We also caught up with each other since we haven’t seen each other in a while. He’s been busy traveling around the world to make deals while I was busy with teaching while Natasha’s at work.

“Look at who I found,” Robert said as we walked up to Natasha talking to Bradley and Jake.

“Darling,” Natasha smiled when she saw me and placed her drink down to give me a hug and a kiss. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” I smiled as I fixed her jacket. “You don’t look too bad yourself. I love it when you wear suits. It makes you all sexy and dominant.”

“Really?” She smirked and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Why don’t we just leave and-”

“Okay, we’re gonna leave before we see a preview of Fifty Shades of Trace,” Bradley announced before the three of them left.

Natasha and I let out a laugh before heading out to the crowd to mingle. Throughout the night, I've mostly been by Natasha's side. Anytime when we were alone, she would try to do some things hoping we could leave early but I stopped her.

“What do I have to do to rip this dress off of you?” Natasha whispered in my ear.

I let out a yawn and looked at Natasha with a slight smirk on my face. Getting the signal, she grabbed her hand and quickly led me towards the exit giving everyone an Irish goodbye. Charles pulled up when we left the building and we got into the car.

“A good evening ladies?” Charles asked us as he drove.

“Yeah, it was a nice evening,” Natasha replied. “Made many deals.”

“Well, you’ll be thanking me while I suffer through another brunch with the wives,” I joked.

“Just order the most expensive thing and put it on my card,” she joked back.

“You really know how to swoon a girl,” I smiled and placed my lips onto hers.

Pulling up to the house, we thanked Charles before leaving the car and heading inside the house. Closing the front door and walking up the stairs, I slowly started to undress myself as Natasha was walking behind me. Putting my jewelry in the little dish on my vanity, I started to take my dress off as Natasha watched me from the corner of her eye as she started to undress herself. Letting my dress fall to the floor, it revealed the lace bra that I was wearing and nothing else.

Laying on our bed, I started to play with myself as she continued to undress herself. I bit the inside of my lip as I rubbed my clit while inserting two other fingers inside my vagina, trying not to let out a moan.

“Oh lord, forgive me for I have sinned.” Natasha removed my fingers and inserted them in her mouth licking them with a grin on her face. “Tasting sweet for Mommy aren’t we? Come on, let out that moan for Mommy.”

Letting out a moan, I let out another one as she inserted her fingers into my vagina making the same motion I previously did. With her free hand, she slid it up my back and unclipped my bra before tossing it to the floor. I fondled my own breasts as her free hand pulled my hair as she placed kisses down my neck down to my abdomen.

“Let Mommy listen to those whimpers,” Natasha grinned as I whimpered softly. “Let those out.”

My wimpers soon turned into moans as she quickened the pace of her fingers. I looked to see that she was also fingering herself as she fingered me which made me moan more.

“Please,” I moaned. “Nat, I need to-” Another moan hit me before I could even finish my sentence.

“Hold on,” Natasha moaned as she released her fingers out of mine and her vagiana as we orgasmed, letting our discharge go.

Panting, she laid down next to me and pulled me closer to her. I wrapped my legs around her as she softly kissed me as she ran her fingers through my hair. She started to praise me telling me how good I did and checked in if I was okay, which I was by the way.

“So, shower or towel?” She asked.

“Towel, I’m too tired to be in the shower,” I chuckled. “Just had the most mind blowing sex in my life.”

“Alright, stay here,” she winked as she got out of bed.

Laying in bed, I reflected back on what just happened a few minutes ago. Soon she came back with a damp warm towel and wiped me while giving me a kiss. Tossing the towel in the dirty hamper, she got back in bed with me and we cuddled until we fell asleep.

#natasha trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace x reader #phoenix x reader #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace #top gun fanfiction #top gun au #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun smut #Spotify

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sunkissedscribbles · 6 months ago

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prejudiced - song list

I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood Arcade - Duncan Laurence Heather - Conan Gray Are You With Me - nilu Young And Beautiful - Lana Del Rey O Children - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex Reflections - The Neighbourhood Ride - Lana Del Rey High Enough - K.Flay War of Hearts - Ruelle Sunsetz - Cigarettes After Sex Cry - Cigarettes After Sex Heavenly - Cigarettes After Sex Softcore - The Neighbourhood Fade Into You - Mazzy Star Electric Love - BØRNS Space Song - Beach House Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys My Blood - Ellie Goulding Family Line - Conan Gray Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears 505 - Arctic Monkeys bad idea right? - Olivia Rodrigo Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? - Arctic Monkeys Meddle About - Chase Atlantic Sweet - Cigarettes After Sex Cupid's Chokehold/Breakfast in America - Gym Class Heroes Snap Out Of It - Arctic Monkeys The Night We Met - Lord Huron There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - The Smiths The Queen Is Dead - The Smiths I Know It's Over - The Smiths Back To The Old House - The Smiths Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now - The Smiths Well I Wonder - The Smiths Boys Don't Cry - The Cure In Between Days - The Cure Lovesong - The Cure My Kinda Lover - Billy Squier Waiting For The Flood - Love and Rockets All That Money Wants - The Psychedelic Furs What Difference Does It Make? - The Smiths Friday I'm In Love - The Cure Just Like Heaven - The Cure 10:15 Saturday Night - The Cure Too Young To Die - Agent Orange Too Sweet - Hozier Cry Baby - The Neighbourhood Pretty Boy - The Neighbourhood

#slytherin boys #harry potter universe #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #liz writes #prejudiced fanfiction #kiara bianchi #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fanfic #wattpad #wattpad fanfiction #wattpad story #mattheo riddle x oc #song list

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thenightling · 8 months ago

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My review of Asylum's Monster Mash: How Asylum managed to do what Univeral Studios Dark Universe could not

Last night I watched the new Asylum mockbuster, Monster Mash. What is Asylum? And What is a Mockbuster? A Mockbuster is a low budget knock-off movie of a film that is either already a blcokbuster hit or anticipated to be a hit. When Pacific Rim came out Asylum released a Mockbuster called Atlantic Rim. When Dracula 2000 came out, Dracula 3000 aired on The Scifi Channel. When Morbius came out, Asylum made Dracula: The Original Living Vampire. Sometimes the connection to the blockbuster they were "inspired by" is very slim. Asylum was founded twenty-five-years-ago to make mockbusters of high budget, blockbuster, and mainstream scifi and horror films. A lot of Asylum's creations have been released on Syfy (Formerly the Scifi Channel) as Syfy original movies. Most Asylum movies are either made-for-TV or direct to DVD / Blu Ray / Streaming. One season of the Netflix incarnation of Mystery Science Theatre were all Asylum mockbusters. This year there was a highly anticipated vampire movie called Abigail. The plot was about the daughter of a crime boss (heavily implied to be Dracula all along). The daughter gets kidnapped and it turns out her kidnappers are actually her intended victims. So Asylum released their own Mockbuster called Monster Mash and managed to release it two weeks before Abigail came out.

And what a treat this Monster Mash was! It was so delightfully corny! So wonderfully bad. I actually loved it. This was a so-bad-it's-good movie. There are other films called Monster Mash, including a semi-Juke Box musical. This is the only one from 2024. I think I liked Asylum's Monster Mash more than the 2012 Dario Argento's Dracula, which until now, was my favorite campy, bad Dracula movie. My nickname for Dario Argento's Dracula is Mantis Drac because Dracula transforms into a giant female preying Mantis at one point with very low quality CG effects. In Monster Mash, Dracula's daughter is kidnapped by Boris (A rather simple minded but sweet hearted Frankenstein monster) serving the evil Dr. Frankenstein, who wants to use Dracula's daughter as bait to lure out Dracula. Dr. Frankenstein is dying and wants to transfer his consciousness to a new monster, an utterly indestructible monster- supposedly. Dr. Frankenstein wants to use the parts of all the classic monsters including blood from Dracula, skin from The invisible Man, the heart of Rameses The Mummy, and the limbs of an immortal werewolf. Werewolves in traditional folklore, and the original Universal monster movies actually were immortal except when it came to silver.

The movie has minimum gore and suspense (except perhaps where Dracula almost kills his daughter's slave girl). It's tame enough where I think it could work for a child's first introduction to the classic monsters in a horror setting. (You know, outside of cartoons like Hotel Transylvania). I liked it a lot. For an Asylum film there was limited low-quality CG except once Dr. Frankenstein's creation came to life. That's when Asylum brought it its trademark low quality SFX.

The movie was not just a mockbuster of Abigail. It also felt like League of Extraordinary Gentlemen but with the classic monsters. There were aspects that reminded me of House of Frankenstein. Dracula's daughter even had wanted a cure for her vampiric condition, like in the Universal monster movie, Dracula's daughter. There are a lot of nice, subtle, homages to classic monster movies. You realize pretty fast that the classic monsters are the heroes of the story (even though Dracula does occasionally snack on a hapless damsel). And I found myself delighted through the corny cheese. THIS is what Universal studios should have give us with their promised Dark Universe. THIS was a classic monsters version of Avengers and with the campy cheese of an asylum mockbuster it was actually fun. It was charming. I usually have difficulty sitting through an Asylum mockbister, let alone want to watch it again. This one I would happily watch again. It was fun. It was cheesy, good, fun. I liked it. I liked it a lot. Honestly, the actor who played Dracula was so much fun in this, Asylum doesn't deserve him. He deserves to be in something better but man, he made the movie. It was the sort of corny movie you might imagine Peter Vincent from the 1985 Fright Night starring in. Much like a classic Hammer Horror movie you can't quite tell what country it's set in or even what time period. There's almost a fairytale-like quality to it. An agelessness that is nostalgic and also refreshing.

This is, hands down, my favorite Asylum Mockbuster. Honestly, I loved it. If I had kids I'd have probably used it as their first horror film exposure to the classic movie monsters, not too scary, yet also well paced and the characters are likable. It was cheesy, corny, fun. I want to see more monster movies like this. THIS is the sort of film Universal Studios Dark Universe should have produced for us. Somehow Asylum managed to give us what Universal should have. It's rare that I say something like this but Universal Studios take note. The low budget mockbuster did what you wanted to but could not. I liked this so much I want Asylum to make a whole franchise out of it or even a TV series. I'd watch the Hell out of Dracula and his team of monsters trying to be the heroes. This was some damn good brain candy. My harshest complaints are that I prefer articulate and intelligent Frankenstein monsters like in Mary Shelley's novel but as this creature was named Boris he's obviously a homage to the zeitgeist Universal Studios tropey idea of the Frankenstein Monster. Also there's an odd moment where Dracula's daughter (named Elisabeta as a nod to the Bram Stoker's Dracula movie) comments about how she can read minds (with the aid of psychometry) but Dracula cannot read minds. I find this particularly odd since psychic abilities are some of his more common powers, even in films where they forget his ability to turn into Bat, wolf, and mist. Other than these petty details I loved this movie. It was very bad but very fun, a deliciously cheesy monster movie.

#Monster Mash #Asylum #Asylum films #Asylum pictures #Asylum movies #Asylum 2024 #Dracula #Frankenstein #The Invisible Man #Griffin #The Mummy

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anies-vocalsynthhcworld · 1 year ago

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Megurine Luka's Past (My Headcanon)

Luka was born and grew up for a large part of her childhood and adolescence in New York, coming from a family of high economic rank, from which she descends from Japanese blood (through her father) and American/British blood (through her mother). Her father; Masahiko Megurine leads a huge company (which the Megurines have owned for years) of tourist cruises that travel through all the countries located in the Atlantic, Indian and Pacific Oceans, while her mother; Alice Shellwhite is a very famous fashion designer in the country. The three lived in the Big city, habiting a gigantic penthouse on top of one of the many skyscrapers it owns and not only them, they also had their own staff like any wealthy family. So yes, it turns Luka into a city girl surrounded by luxuries, with a very good education, gifts and the attention of her parents, but it doesn't mean that by living like this she is a bad person as one would expect from this type of family, actually she has always been a sweet and friendly girl who overflowed with love for everyone without exception.

How did get Tako-Luka? Excellent question; There was a time when Masahiko went on one of his many business trips, in which he was accompanied by his team to buy new islands as tourist breaks from his cruise ships before arriving at clandestine. On one of them he found the island which considered a perfect site, except for the fact that it had toxic waste strewn on the tropical terrain, which Masahiko's employees were ordered to clean up all of it. When they finished and he was about to make it official, he ended up finding a kind of octopus that lived on said island with the unrealistic aspect of resembling a tender human face and the tentacles posing as a person's hair, hitting the idea that they looked like that because of the toxicity that affected not only the island, but also the fauna of the place. Masahiko sympathized with those poor animals that instead of proclaiming it as a tourist island, he turned it into a natural refuge so that the octopuses do not receive mistreatment from people who see them, in order to keep them safe.

When he returned home with his family, he did not realize that one of the octopuses followed him after sneaking onto the cruise ship on which he sailed for his business trip along with those who were accompanying Masahiko. Knowing this story, Luka (at seven years old) became fond of the octopus enough to keep it as her own pet. It was to be expected that both parents initially had doubts if she was capable of taking care of it, but in the end they accepted it with certain conditions and Luka, very happy, became inseparable from that octopus, calling it "Tako-Luka". The rest of her life after that was completely normal, she didn't seem to have any problems at school (aside from the fact that her parents hired tutors to help Luka with studies) and she began to brag about her good life by belonging to a family rich, but she continued to emphasize being good and kind to everyone around her, even if her parents were slightly unconvinced of that little path their daughter was taking. However, her happiness would be degraded upon learning that her mother was consumed by a serious illness just the night after her high school graduation...

༶ ༻ʚ ♡︎ ɞ༺ ༶

Once she was admitted to the hospital, they took better care of her than anyone else and the doctors did the impossible for her to be saved, but it was all in vain since in the time she spent days while they were looking for a cure, Alice died...which clearly dealt a hard blow to Luka and Masahiko, for the three of them spending so much time together and losing her affected them like that. One night, the pinkette girl (16 years old) still saddened by her loss, had a dream so real that it seemed unreal, she was reunited with her mother, telling Luka Her last words: « My baby...you don't have to cry for me...I know that this feeling is difficult and horrible for one and I would never wish it on you...but...I want you to keep smiling and being yourself...you are my most charming and sweet daughter and I don't want you to ruin yourself for this...always remember me for that great love and moments we spent together without pitying because I passed away...I love you Luka... » And with this Luka left her more than satisfied and happy to see her through that dream of lovingly taking her words and never forgetting them.

Days after that event, Luka gradually recovered and was still the same as before, but even so, she continued to miss her mother very much every time she remembered various things in her home because she did not see herself without her there. This gave Masahiko the advantage of cheering her up knowing how his daughter felt, he gave her the news that they were moving to Megurine's hometown; Japan, since as the family's main company is located in Tokyo city, he was given the hereditary position and personally, take his daughter to live in a completely new environment so as not to leave Luka stuck in the nostalgia. This made her doubt a little considering that she missed her stay in New York and since she has visited Japan so few times it would be difficult for her to get used to it, but she accepted with the idea that her father would be right on the last point and ensuring the future experiences that they waited for her once they live there, plus it's not like they'll never come back to New York considering they can fly to visit their old home on that city.

A couple of years after the move from New York to Tokyo, Masahiko had a surprise in store for Luka for her eighteenth birthday. When that day came and after having celebrated ad nauseam, she had as her last gift that her father enrolled her in Vocaloid for the musical talent that her daughter had developed in recent years (grateful for the lessons she received in her music classes given since she was five years old), the news made Luka overly excited when she learned that she will become a singer for a recently popular company. As soon as she moved, three months after her birthday for the audition time, her life went from good to better, she ended up making friends with the other Vocaloids who joined before her, as well as making new friends with the new ones who joined they were part of Vocaloid. Luka assumed that her mother would be proud for how her new life began and she promised herself that she would keep hers as she already is and everyone knows her, continuing like this from now on without more negative cases affecting our octo-pink lady.

#vocaloid #vocaloid headcanon #headcanon #vocaloid headcanons #headcanons #my weird world of headcanons #luka megurine #megurine luka #tako luka #vocaloid fanparents #fanparents #vocaparents #vocaloid oc #no canon #ocs #tw death #alice shellwhite #alice megurine #masahiko megurine

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johnlock-shrine · 1 year ago

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An updating list of my favorite fics in the order I read them. Deduce what you will from my love of angst, meandering descriptions, and happy endings. 24/12/19

From A Drop Of Water ~96k M victorianpining 2021

"It was simply my conjecture of what a future world might look like and how you and I might fit inside it. From a drop of water a logician should be able to infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara."

Whirlwind ~51k M DiscordantWords 2022

But John arrives in the midst of a very active storm season, and Sherlock very clearly hasn’t let go of the past. Against his better judgement, John finds himself talked into riding along after one last storm.

Their Great Reward 10k T BeautifulFiction 2012

Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

The Progress of Sherlock Holmes 62k E ivyblossom 2011

“I had,” he said, “come to an entirely erroneous conclusion, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from insufficient data.”

— Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Speckled Band

Thirst 122k E bittergreens 2014

When John realizes he has feelings for Sherlock and decides he must keep those feelings secret at all costs, the resulting tension might bring Baker Street to the ground.

“The fundamental condition for desire is an absence or lack, but desire is never only an absence.” –Leo Bersani

The Masquerade of the Red Death ~17k E okapi 2018

On the hunt for a serial killer, Sherlock & John attend a masked orgy.

Lucid 71k E dr_girlfriend 2013

"The first time it happened was completely by accident."

Post-Reichenbach, John finds a way to hold on to Sherlock after all.

Transformation ~53k E Jadis 2013

Upon his arrival at his childhood home, John finds Mycroft-effing-Holmes in his parents’ living room. It wouldn’t be the first time a Holmes had turned his life on its ear.

Once More, With Feeling 21k T cellardoors 2011

To put off his meddlesome, matchmaking mother, John convinces Sherlock to play the role of his significant other. Unparalleled awkwardness ensues.

and stand there at the edge of my affection ~3k G coloredink 2011

"You've written love letters," Sherlock asserted.

A Cure For Boredom ~82k E emmagrant01 2012

They'd never talked about sex in the year they'd known each other. Well, that wasn't quite correct: Sherlock had never said a word about sex; John had bemoaned his personal dearth of it on many occasions.

Let You Kiss Me (So Sweet and So Soft) ~7k G out_there 2010

The first time Sherlock kisses him, John keeps his eyes open, and so does Sherlock, and mostly, he wonders what Sherlock could possibly be up to. There'll be some logic to this. Some ridiculous experiment about body warmth or respiratory rates or testing a new way of picking pockets. Sherlock does the unimaginable for bizarre reasons, but behind it, there's always logic and curiosity. Sometimes, it just takes him a while to explain it to John.

Acceptable Behaviour 3k M bbcatemysoul 2013

Sherlock isn't really sure why John wants to shag him, but he's certain that if he's careful to behave properly about it, John can be persuaded to keep doing it.

In other news, John is a good boyfriend and Sherlock is an idiot.

A Terrific Soporific 11k T antietamfalls 2013

Sherlock, a long-time sufferer of insomnia, is forced to share a bed with John at a hotel while on a case. To his astonishment, he finds that spending the night next to John helps him sleep and becomes determined to maneuver himself back into John's bed.

In which John is a cuddly, BAMF assassin. ~11k T notbeloved07 2012

Sherlock braces himself for a cold-blooded killer, with nerves of steel and no remorse, with a reputation for ruthlessness that makes several hardened criminals check their closets before they go to bed - and meets John. Easygoing, good-natured, cuddly jumper-wearing John. Who thinks he's brilliant and hilarious, and can he take him out for a coffee?

M for Marriage ~29k M RonaSargent 2014

John Watson finds out who he is actually married to. It's not who he thought.

Beset with marital problems and with distraction in mind, a distressed John Watson helps Sherlock Holmes on a fast paced, high profile case.

Empathy ~36k T Blind_Author 2014

John is an empath. Which isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds. Most of the time, it’s not even useful.

Given In Evidence ~98k E verityburns 2012

Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

The Real Meaning Of Idioms ~22k T feverishsea 2012

After two weeks away, John finally texts Sherlock. He doesn't expect Sherlock to respond. He doesn't expect Sherlock to keep texting him. And he really doesn't expect things to spiral out of control so rapidly.

The Things You Hide 10k E verityburns 2012

Sherlock and John have been working and living together for nearly a year, each finding the other's friendship to be the one thing they would not risk or want to live without. Until something happens to disturb the status quo…

(drunk)

Saving Sherlock Holmes 139k M earlgreytea68 2013

Sherlock Holmes, schoolboy. Yeah, that basically sums it up.

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl ~33k E out_there 2010

Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

echoes through time ~22k E chellefic 2012

Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

The Road Less Traveled ~75k M verityburns 2010

Sherlock realises that John's dating habits involve an unacceptable level of risk... what if he meets an unusually tolerant woman and ends up getting married?

The Heart In The Whole ~102k E verityburns 2011

Events after 'The Great Game' leave Sherlock dependent on his best friend and colleague. But John has a secret of his own...

(TBI)

Over Fathoms Deep WIP E bittergreens 2014-

When the youngest son of the aristocratic Holmes family is shipped off to sea in an attempt to cure him of his poor temper and bad manners, he fully expects to spend a long tedious voyage as miserable as ever. What he does not count on is having his heart stolen by the strapping young crewman, John Watson.

Leave the Signs and the Sirens ~25k G out_there 2012

After John's released and back home at Baker St, Sherlock still feels it. Down the centre of his chest there's an ache like a healing wound. A physical awareness of a body he usually ignores as much as he can. It's psychosomatic, nothing more interesting than that.

(PTSD)

Blame it on the Viscum album 2k T codswallop 2013

Sherlock, Christmas, and poisonous plants: what could possibly go wrong?

Midnight Blue Serenity ~152k E BeautifulFiction 2013

When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate's charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

Speaker for the Bees ~15k M antietamfalls for feywhimsy 2014

It isn't always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

(Such a lovely fic, and an accurately Sherlockian way to deal with being deaf! Whether neurodivergent, socially awkward, or uncategorizedly weird & brilliant, he'd totally end up in the same kinds of situations of having to explain or defend himself)

Dear John ~218k E BloodSeiryu, FourCornersHolmes, Tindomerelhloni 2018

An AU in which Sherlock is in Rehab and is required to write a letter to a random person in the military. John get's it, and they become penpals of a sort.

(if you read the series, mind the tags ;~;)

A Promise Made to Be Broken ~37k E PlantsAreNeat for SwissMiss 2017

A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won't let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Scotland series ~346k E snorklepie 2014-2020

“A nice holiday, just a bit more...murdery. ” John said drily.

“Yes! The best kind of holiday!” Sherlock beamed. “So we won’t get bored!”

After he separates from Mary, John returns to Baker Street. Following a request for help from Sherlock's cousin Violet, the detective and his blogger take a trip to Edinburgh. John discovers more about the Holmes family and Sherlock than he bargained for, but tries not to run screaming.

(dunno why last one's marked as incomplete, the main plotlines are all resolved)

The Adventure of the Silver Scars ~142k tangledblue 2016

“All this does not mean that I’m not still basically pissed off with you. I’m very pissed off, and it will come out now and then.” –His Last Vow

It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

A River Without Banks ~203k E Chryse 2015

"You love this, being Sherlock Holmes."

He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?

(lyrical time travel)

Manifest ~30k E causidicus 2015

John finds Sherlock's porn. The discovery shifts the dynamic of their relationship.

(so much angst)

To Light Another's Path ~129k E BeautifulFiction 2012

Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John's care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case. Eventual John/Sherlock Hurt/Comfort case fic. Post the Great Game

The Adventure of the Consulting Woman ~39k E DancingGrimm 2014

“So the plan is, you have until Saturday night to make that,” he pointed at Sherlock, “look and act convincingly like a woman, so she can go and be a damsel in distress and in so doing trap a serial murderer. Have I got that right?"

(crossdressing and a badass trans woman)

A Hesitation Waltz ~6k T UrbanHymnal 2017

He lets the vibrato speak for him: love and loss, triumph and failure, longing for water and a bit of rest after so long a journey. He would follow John into the desert, walk through fire, sacrifice to any God. He would gladly kneel at John’s feet, if only given the chance, and worship him with each breath.

---

A post-series 4 ficlet about John and Sherlock relearning one another.

The Sea in a Chasm ~18k T orphan_account 2012

When Sherlock decides to retire to Sussex, John decides to find out who he is without Sherlock.

(there's part two of lovely domestic ace retirementlock after ther that bit of angst 🤍)

The Vapor Variant ~73k M 88th Parallel (CanadaHolm) 2018

They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear.

Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”

Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods.

Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

(Baskerville goes even more wrong)

A Beginner's Guide to Apiology. ~11k M VictoryCandescence 2012

John and Sherlock meet for the first time as old men in Sussex.

(with a tasteful bit of magical realism)

Two Words ~16k T amaruuk 2024

Moriarty is dead. Sherlock is about to jump. Two words change everything.

(John's also smart and calm under pressure, but that's canon, right?)

Let Me ~12k E Violsva 2014

Sherlock Holmes has suffered from insomnia all his life. When Watson realizes the extent of it, he searches for a way to comfort Holmes, and in the process confronts things neither of them have been saying.

(ACD Johnlock angst and Watson being a really really good friend)

A softening of the brain ~2k G Guava_juice 2024

“John.” The sound of my first name stopped me on my tracks; Holmes never used it, as did the costume go. “Would you be afraid,” he whispered, “to sleep in the same bed of a lunatic, a man with a softening of the brain, an idiot whose mind has lost its grip?”

This could have so many implications, so many ways to interpret it, but no matter what sense I made of it, there was only one answer. “Not in the least,” I said with some difficulty, regaining the breath I had lost before. “Sherlock, I'd never leave you.” That, I turned to regret just after it came out of my lips — too revealing.

Or... what if that scene from the canon had another meaning? One that's more... romantic.

(in the best way, this feels like a much longer fic)

Certainty ~7k M joolabee 2012

You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home. There.

(associative river of angst)

John Watson, CEO ~10k T KittenKin 2021

Based on this gif and the following comments (though it ended up being less "trophy husband Sherlock" and more like "what if JOHN was the high-functioning sociopath?"):

"CEO John Watson and his Trophy Husband, Sherlock Holmes" - 221bloodnun "Security consultant Greg Lestrade walking ahead of them" - undun-duz

(John's so well written here; not Sherlock 2.0, but a compatible sort of broken [not that canon Sherlock & John aren't])

The Tip Over Into The Inevitable ~7k T ivyblossom 2015

When his father dies, Sherlock avoids sleeping. Then discovers he can't sleep at all. John finds a way to help.

Sensory Science ~80k E sussexbound 2019

John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend.

One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.

(this one is a lovely AU exploration of curiosity and (mis)communication + I always love when fics mention art)

The Measure of a Gentleman 67k E i_ship_an_armada 2013

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a partner.

Less universally acknowledged is that a single man in possession of very little in the way of fortune may be in want of a partner as well, but John Watson had little time or energy to devote to his own wants or needs...

Enter one Mr Holmes...

(delicious confluence of two of my favorite multi-adaptation stories)

The Sound of Silence ~2k G SailorChibi 2013

Sherlock returns from the dead but nothing is like it was. He doesn't speak and John doesn't understand, not until an encounter with the Yard explains the depths of Sherlock's trauma.

(for some reason, this just stayed with me)

Unjust ~4k M Cap1942 2016

They showed affection in stealthy advances as minimal as possible. The touches as simple as helping the other into the carriage, being able to lay a hand upon the others back and slightly gripping a hold of their clothes showing that they were protected. Or when the other would fetch the others pipe, handing it over gently with the opportunity to overlap and feel the sting in their yearning fingers. Or when they walked side by side down Baker Street intentionally swinging their palms a bit too far and having their shoulders a bit too cocked for a second of touch to make sure that their blood still pumped their hearts full of the sentiment that many thought was unjust.

(beautifully sad ADC Johnlock)

A Telling Touch ~92k E MiyakoToudaiji 2014

Post-Reichenbach. After Sherlock’s death, John manages to get himself re-enlisted and is sent back to war. But when two series of gruesome murders link home and outland together, John is suddenly faced with more battles than he could have imagined. A Reunion, multi-chapter, case fic.

(such lovely writing, so full of rich detail — emotions, storylines, settings, backstories, motivations, etc.)

To Be Human ~78k T ohlooktheresabee 2021

There is a serial killer on the loose with a penchant for collecting the brains of his victims. Sherlock, John and Scotland Yard are on the case, but something about the chosen victims has Sherlock on edge. While they piece together the clues that will lead to the killer, John begins to realize that the way his best friend thinks may sometimes be more a hindrance than a help….

Set after HOTB, but doesn't reference canon particularly.

(Gorgeously written, not least because Sherlock's wonderful weirdness is described in detail, rather than left as a tag/label. For others, the diagnoses don't feel like something that defines their roles in the plotline, but rather like another set of character traits. Did I mention the beautiful fanart in chapters 1 & 15?)

Kaleidoscope ~61k E Silvergirl 2021

While Sherlock’s recovering from being shot, John has to work out what the hell happened. Why did Mary turn up in his clinic in the first place? Why is Sherlock lying about her “surgical” shot? Why is Mycroft protecting Magnussen? For that matter, what's to be done about Magnussen? Since John can’t trust any of them to tell him the truth, he’ll have to play them all against each other.

(fun mix of opportunities to pick up clues from characters' inherently incomplete and/or unreliable narrations, and exciting glimpses into all the plotting and planning and thinking, including from smart!John)

#johnlock #fic rec #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #johnlock fic recs #sherlock #sherlock x john #sherlock fic recs #fanfiction #fic recs #sherlock fanfic #johnlock fanfiction

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