#the two pretenders learning to read one another to the degree that they no longer need words is important to me

[invinciblerodent]

an issue i'm finding myself (or, my elf, eeyyyy) running into is that as their relationship progresses, Astarion and Iona become progressively harder to write together, because I'm kind of finding that the closer they are, the less they express themselves verbally.

like, for the earlier scenes, there is a lot of semi-clever back-and-forth which I enjoy writing, I love silly banter and teasing/flirting/bonding, and since they don't touch much early on, most of the relationship development happens in dialogue. but act 3?????? a lot of the emotional sludge that is between them feels most natural to, idk, leave unsaid, and have them rely on the understanding that they had been kind of hesitantly fostering since early act 2.

i know this is a stupid fucking thing to be gnawing on, especially considering that nobody has ever read a word of this damn fic, it's just.

it's a lot easier to write fun dialogue, than to somehow communicate, clearly and without headhopping or getting overly flowery/sanctimonious about it,

"aight chucklefucks, in this scene, he's climbing wordlessly under the covers with her both by way of an unwarranted apology that wasn't actually his to give (y'know, for the whole 'attacked in the middle of the night, bit to shit by his sibling while he stood by uselessly' deal that happened the previous night and is making him feel rotten and guilty for some reason), and as an acknowledgement that he's rattled, scared, and feeling vulnerable, which is why him actively seeking comfort in her instead of slinking off to lick his wounds alone is a big fuckin' deal."

"on the flipside, her not saying anything or asking why he's standing at the foot of her bed but just opening her arms to receive that silent request, invite him in (like one would a vampire, geddit), and giving him the affection with no preamble or caveat, is simultaneously an acceptance of that apology, a confirmation that despite all that's been going on during the daytime she still purposefully elects to trust him, and a reassurance that she is there, she's alive, unhurt, and her feelings haven't changed because of all this either."

"this cuddle is emotionally significant, it intentionally mirrors the one from which they were spurned by the vampire attack as a way to show that regardless of what happens, this undercurrent of tenderness still exists, but nobody is going to say a goddamn word about it, because not only would putting any of this into words be far, far beyond both of them in terms of emotional intelligence, acknowledging that he views her as a point of security and that her anxiety is eased by easing his would also feel wrong and like whoever mentions it is speaking fluent therapese. plus, breaking the silence with lengthy internal monologues would also fucking ruin the simplicity and the impact of the whole goddamn thing, even though all that actually bloody happens is 1.) she flips the covers back, 2.) he climbs in and nuzzles her chest, and 3.) she pulls the covers over his shoulder."

meanwhile i'm just looking at the maybe two actual paragraphs that i've written like

[pyrookami]

My Possession

When I first bought the new house, I was ecstatic. It was a dream house in a beautiful location for an unbelievably low price. Its didn’t take long to learn why. The incidents started small, little items not being where I left them, a flash of a shadow out the corner of my eye. After two months, that is when the actual horrors started. I wasn’t raised particularly religious and had no previous superstitions to speak of but the third time I was physically dragged from bed by an unseen attacker and thrown against the doorframe, well I think anyone would turn to the church for help. Now for the moment I was single with no children, but I had invested my life savings into this house, as cheap as it was it was still a house. I had intended on living a good portion of my life here.

The first place I turned was the catholic church as id seen they were most likely to know what to do to rid my home of whatever was there. Three visits by the local father, the first I was startled by the house being filled with an eerie distorted laughter that the father didn’t acknowledge as he read his scriptures from room to room. Upon exiting I could see how shaken he truly was.

“This entity is powerful, but the good news is it is only one entity, after two more cleansings we will rid you of this unholy entity.”

With that he handed me a rosary of silver and a bundle of sage with the instructions.

“Light the sage before bed and walk throughout the house until the smoke has been in every room. Make sure you always keep the rosary on your person for protection.”

I will be honest, I delayed going home as long as I feasibly could that night. I feared what would happen if everything being done had no effect, or if it made things worse, what would I do? What could I do? My engineering job paid well enough but most of those checks went to paying off my student loans. My savings were in the house, I had to weather whatever was going on. Finally, around eleven pm I could put it off no longer, I had to sleep and had work in the morning. As I stepped from the surprisingly cold Texas summer night into my house, I didn’t notice anything at first. Then as I sighed in relief, I saw my breath fog in the air in front of my face. It was below freezing inside. I checked the thermostat, and it was set to a reasonable seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit, still the thermometer was reading twenty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. I fumbled with numb hands for the sage and upon lighting it with my zippo the temperature nearly instantly rose to a more reasonable level. With another sigh of relief, I did as instructed and wafted the sage smoke into every room in the house. Then with the rosary around my neck went to bed at peace for the first time in a while.

BURNING! I awake to a searing pain on my chest only to open my eyes and see my panting breathe fogging the again freezing air. On reflex, I grab for the rosary only to find a metal puddle cold but pooled on my chest the chain has fallen onto the sheets and covers leaving burn marks, yet all are as cold as the air. Something in me, likely my inner child, says it cant hurt me if I pretend to sleep. So, I close my eyes tight knowing rationally it wont stop this thing from tormenting me. But, desperate, I try anything before I feel the familiar grip on my ankle and am slung physically across the room.

In the morning I wake in bed and at first, I hope it was just a dream, but then the pain hits. This was so much worse than before. My arm feels broken getting out of bed there is a cross shaped burn raw in the center of my chest with smaller bead sized burns forming when the rosary had rested on my chest and neck. Looking in the mirror I get dressed and headed straight to the ER. The bruising looked almost as if I had been attacked by a gang with baseball bats. But that wasn’t what scared me most. No, what scared me was on my mirror written in what looked like blood was my name.

Three fractures, one of my ribs, one of my radius, and one of my humorous. Sadly, I had to explain my injuries to the police who were under the impression I may have been mugged. They laughed at my statement. A call to the church and the father from before was meeting me at the house this time with an entourage. Well, I have learned something today. Apparently for a full cleansing of a house of a demonic presence the catholic church believes in safety in numbers. How many priests does it take to clear one single house of one single demon? According to the Texas cardinal, who was not there just for your information, twelve. They told me to rent a hotel for the night and tomorrow it would be safe to return. Needless to say, I was skeptical.

I must say, even though this whole ordeal has only been going on for two months and the worst of it has only been happening for about a week, I don’t remember the last time I slept so well. Five stars to that small cheap hotel for a quiet restful night’s sleep. Got a call from the priest. He believes their latest cleansing was successful as they spent the last eight and a half hours throwing everything they know at the entity. Around six am it stopped all phenomena and the priest says I should be safe from now on.

I went from the best sleep I can remember to the worst, all one day apart. It started peaceful enough, I’m pretty sure it was to lull me into relaxing. Then as soon as I lay down to sleep. BAM! The full haunting experience! Objects being thrown? Check! Apparitions appearing and disappearing? Also check! Creepy laughter with no source? Fucking check! Having blood writing appear on my walls and ceiling? Yep, also there! Oh, lets not forget the classic now of being bodily picked up and throw around like a child’s rag doll. Nope cant forget about that. When dawn broke that’s when everything finally stopped. I immediately left the house. You may be wondering why I didn’t during the night? I tried believe me whatever this thing is it knows it cant leave the house and has done everything in its considerable powers to keep me contained while it can. Once just once I thought I could get outside just as my foot was over the threshold of the open front door I was pulled back in by my neck. Im now wearing a cast and neck brace.

The Catholics visited again. This time the fat ass cardinal came down himself. Not that it did any good, he took one look at the house turned to me and simply said.

“Move out!”

Then they all left me most looking apologetic some not even able to look me in the eye. Well screw them there are other options…Aren’t there?

Rented the hotel room for the week, if this isn’t solved in a week, I may end up moving back in with my ma in Tennessee, while I try and sell this cursed house. Oh, right I’ve had it confirmed this house has a curse on it that anytime someone attempts to make their home in it a demon from hell will torment them. Apparently, someone wanted this house so bad they didn’t mind torturing people thirty years after they died. Had a psychic come and that’s the story I’ve been given. Yeah, you can laugh at me all you want for believing him but I’m at my wits end for this. The psychic wasn’t much help anyway his advice was to demolish the house since it’s the structure itself that is cursed not the land. Not very helpful.

I have contacted a specialist, yes there are demon exorcising specialists…Apparently. He’s coming from Georgia, but I’m assured he can help, and he claims hell do it for just his travel expenses. The catholic church charged me more than that and I personally believe they made the thing mad and thus made the possession worse. I’m to pick the specialist up from the airport in the morning. Here’s hoping I’ve spent my last night in a hotel rather than a house.

Well picking up a demon exorcising specialist is entertaining to say the least, I was being stared at with everything from fear to hilarity standing there with my cardboard sign. Still don’t understand why the man couldn’t give me his last name over the phone but making me have a sign reading.

“Devil trouble, please help!”

I feel I’m being made a fool of. When he approached, he seemed…normal. He was dressed in black slacks had a semi nice black tie and jacket over a white dress shirt. The only strange things were his hat, an obviously home-made deal, and his luggage a single carry-on bag that looked to me like an instrument case. When I asked if he had any checked luggage he simply smiled and shook his head before gesturing me to lead the way. In the car, he said almost nothing aside from what to call him and for me to describe exactly what has occurred in my case of the possession.

“Call me Junior, please tell me what y’all have experience with the entity. Has it given a name?”

At my description Junior simply pursed his lips as the rest of his face remained stoic and calm. That was all he said in the almost hour drive from the Houston airport to my small slice of suburban hell. Upon arrival at my haunted house, he insisted on my leading the way in. I think he was testing my story which if he was the entity accommodated admirably with a shriek of my name the moment we stepped inside and a bout of creepy laughter just for good measure. Without a word junior set his case of the floor and took off his hat and handed it to me. With a look and a motion, he bade me step back to the door which slammed closed before I could make my exit. With a sigh he turned to the rest of the house and introduced himself with the strangest challenge for the supernatural id ever heard.

“Well son since you want him here that’s fine. My names johnny, and I have a challenge for you if you win you can bring back something to your boss he wants back desperately if I win you will return to hell from where you came and never darken the world of gods chosen ever again. Is that acceptable?”

Before my eyes the shadows of the house darkened and collected until a being stood before Johnny? Junior? It stood no less than eight feet tall with arms so long they dragged the ground legs that looked like an animals like a cow or goats. And a head so unnaturally misshapen it hurt to look at. As the monstrosity revealed itself johnny knelt to open his luggage. I was right it was a simple instrument case but what he pulled out was no simple instrument. Its gleamed golden even in the dim light. Johnny spoke quietly as he held the instrument. A violin? He began to do something with the stick that accompanied the violin. Somehow the entity semed to shrink a little as johnny spoke.

“Quite a while ago my daddy won this in a contest against the devil himself. The bet then was a soul for the golden fiddle. I have been training with a fiddle since I was knee high to a grasshopper just so when it was my turn to show up the hellish fools that would harm those of the lords people, I would be more than up to the task.”

Before my eyes as the first notes of the fiddle played the demon shriveled and vanished. It appears the demon wasn’t going to risk anything on a bet against a family that had bested his infernal lord. Then and there I swore to myself this young mans story needed to be heard.

“im not sure I introduced my self properly…johnny? My name is Charlie daniels and I would love to hear the story behind that golden fiddle.”

With a laugh the young man replied.

“Johnny was my old man. But sure I’ll tell. One day, the devil went down to Georgia.”

[hologramcowboy]

https://www.tumblr.com/hologramcowboy/704906462083858432/hi-idk-if-this-is-weird-but-i-saw-you-mentioned?source=share

//Post pictures of your ideal body in places you can easily see them. This includes your phone or laptop/pc wallpaper.

Move the treats and sweets some place where they are complicated to reach.//

I just need to comment, and I am trying to be respectful here, but these two pieces are really kind of... bad advice. I would NEVER recommend people post pictures of their "ideal bodies". That is very toxic and can have negative and devastating effects. Most people have unrealistic expectations and not being able to ever reach their "ideal body" can lead to anxiety, depression, among other issues and most damaging - eating disorders. If you are constantly confronted by this "ideal body" on your phone, around your house, etc. that you can never reach? That can have long lasting effects on mental health. Everybody can't have every body. It's just not realistic. And I speak from not just personal experience, but from having friends, family, acquaintances that have gone through the same or very similar things (plus a psych degree but this was not my area of specialty so I don't pretend like I am an authority). While anon who sent the ask seems to have realistic expectations and isn't looking to lose weight specifically, they are not the only one reading your response. At a young age when I was in the best shape I will probably ever be in in my life I started this. I cut out pics of the "ideal body" I wanted, I saved them in a notebook for reference. I started dieting and exercising to try and reach that goal. I never could (I was a size 3 and very active and still never could). Then my eating disorders started shortly after. This was all in high school. 20+ years later I have done so much damage to my body I will probably never know the extent of it. It is a very quick and slippery slope from "this is what I want to look like" to depression and disordered eating. I know my case is not universal, but it is also far more common than people want to admit. My best friend growing up, and at that time when this was all starting, actually was going through the same thing at the same time and I didn't know. I found out a few years later that we both had been struggling through the same thing but that's a longer story for another time. The point is, you should work out for your own mental and physical health, not to get an "ideal body" because you will never reach that goal and you will never be happy with it. If you work out for health benefits then the aesthetic changes are just an added bonus. It's also more sustainable when you aren't trying to work out simply to look a certain way. When you are doing it all for looks then you tend to get much more easily discouraged and many even give up (or go to extremes mentioned above). This was a hard learned lesson.

And about the food comment - first of all, no food is inherently "good" or "bad", we assign them those designations and stigmatize food which is also very detrimental. Yes some foods are more nutrient dense and healthier/better for you but eating a fast food burger is better than eating nothing. In fact, there are studies that show that the way we perceive our food effects the way our bodies respond to those foods (specifically ghrelin aka the hunger hormone - just look up the "mind over milkshakes" experiment, here is a very simplified overview of it here but you can find longer more detailed reviews with more thorough explanations of the results). So labeling foods as "bad" can actually be more detrimental. And removing certain foods you love or enjoy actually tends to have the opposite effect. You then become out of control with those foods. For example, if you like ice cream but never let yourself eat it or keep it in the house because its "bad" then when you do finally have some you feel completely out of control with it and often overeat. Which can start a negative cycle of negativity towards yourself for "lack of self-control" when in reality, its the overabundance of control around food that causes that behavior. When I finally quit dieting I had this problem with so many foods that I never allowed myself. And in order to reverse this you just have to let yourself eat all the foods until they are no longer an issue. Now I always have ice cream in the house and I know I can eat it whenever I want. But you know what? I rarely do. So yes, "hiding bad foods" may seem like a good idea in the short term, it can actually make the way you handle and interact with those foods much worse in the future.

For anyone who wants more info on any of this there is a great and really entertaining book about it - it includes the milkshake study, The Minnesota Starvation Experiment, personal info, medical info, why you feel "addicted" to certain foods, etc. and it's honestly a funny read - its called "The F*ck It Diet" [website]

And this was not an accusation towards you, I find that many people don't realize or understand the impact that suggestions like these make. And as someone who struggled for 20+ years and only finally made it through about 1-2 years ago (I still struggle daily) I have a hard time biting my tongue when I read things like this. I WISH someone had said all these things to me back when it started. I wish I never tried to emulate a certain body type. I wish I realized that working out and eating for health and happiness will always be better than working out to obtain a certain body. Educating myself on nutrition, diet culture, exercise techniques, etc. has been so helpful and I wish I had all this info when young me thought if I just skipped the ice cream, if I just worked out for another hour, if I JUST ___ then I would be happy. My best advice if you want to start working out - explore your options, see what types of workouts you like and what you hate. The best workout you can do is the one you enjoy because its the one you are actually going to do. And I agree, start small. Don't overdo it out of the gate. Start trying new things and see what works for you and your body. For example I can't run because I have a bad knee but I love to take long walks. I also enjoy strength training but yoga is really not my jam. Finding what you like is honestly the best first step.

Sorry for the rant (and I hope it didn't feel like a lecture), its just something that I am very invested in and passionate about and don't want to see people go down the road I went.

@ anon thank you for pointing that out but I feel I must inform you that I never used the word bad in association to food within my post. Plus the advice I gave was also advice I got from my ex trainer. Putting away treats helps avoid overeating, notice I never mentioned you shouldn't indulge or ever labeled any food as bad. I've added a clarification to that suggestion since it seems you assumed something intensely toxic based on a simple suggestion of making treats harder to reach.

The idea behind that is making them difficult to reach will have you think twice on whether you truly need to have that treat or not. If you leave sweets readily available they can become an environmental cue and you're more likely to over eat.

Over eating sweets and less than ideal foods can cause health issues over time, needless to say so I disagree with you, I think the way you set up the kitchen is highly important as you can either create a harmonious, healthy environment or you can so create an environment where over eating and consuming unhealthy foods comes much easier. Again food affects your body directly so I think placing things carefully is important. This doesn't mean denying yourself things, it means focusing on being balanced.

If, for example, you consume a lot of Coca Cola and similar drinks don't expect to lose weight or have an improvement in health. You can absolutely enjoy it but in a balanced way to avoid damaging your health and packing on a lot of weight very fast.

Not to mention sugar in general is extremely damaging to health, there's a reason professionals recommend consuming it very little.

As for the priming part, I've also amended that though I never said people should compare their bodies or anything like that, that's toxic. I said use images to prompt your mind to remember to exercise but I suppose I did fail to add details so I've added a little explanation with that. Priming pertains to NLP and is far from toxic. But you're right, if someone approaches weight loss in a highly toxic way they can absolutely use images to their detriment just as they can use any specific weight loss aspect to their detriment and create a self sabotage circle. This is why it's important to approach weight loss only after fully accepting and loving your body as it is. Dieting doesn't work because the focus isn't on increasing well being, it's on making your current body wrong and fighting that. Whereas the anon had a very healthy approach, they appreciate their body as it is and only want to get fitter, they are looking to enhance their wellbeing.

Also, there's absolutely nothing wrong with setting goals as long as they are realistic and as long as the focus is on wellbeing.

Seems like you had a lot of hardship regarding weight loss so I appreciate you sharing your perspective as I am sure a lot of people can relate.

As for eating disorders, it's important to investigate the mother-daughter link first and foremost as those issues stem from trauma within that bond.

Sorry if I made no sense but I couldn't sleep last night and I am fairly tired this morning. 😴

[wcvensouls]

[ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 ] : receiver notices sender looking at them longingly. (keller & jae)

at some point in his life, chae seungjae had somehow found himself surrounded by people. he didn't really know how it had happened, not when he used to be so careful about keeping others at arm's length — yet it seemed he had made some friends along the years. seungjae didn't really know why people like joohyuk, soobin and kaede would like and want to spend time with him, but he had learned to simply not think too much about it and accept it.

however, there was one person that had walked into his life that was not quite like the others — keller kang had not only become a friend, but also carved a room for himself inside seungjae's heart without him ever noticing, as if that space had simply always been there waiting for him to fill it. at first, seungjae didn't really know what to do with the new feelings keller had brought into his life, making his heart soften and opening up a door inside the walls he kept around himself for him, and only him, to walk in. sometimes, seungjae felt so much that he thought he was simply going to explode — things he never thought he would, that he didn't think were meant for him to experience.

seungjae was not someone to openly express his thoughts and feelings, though — he didn't really know how to, and he learned that most people didn't know how to read it either. so, when it came to acting normal and pretending everything was calm and finne, chae seungjae thought that he was truly an expert.

well, that also quickly change the closer him and keller got. suddenly, seungjae could not longer hide things as well as he normally did, wearing his heart a little too close to his sleeve when it came to the other. ah, at first he hated how exposed and vulnerable it made him feel, but he also grew to embrace it. after all, keller was the only person he could simply be himself with, the one person he didn't have to pretend to be strong around in any shape or form.

they had been going over some notes that they had worked on the day before about their next case, and seungjae had been rambling about it for a few minutes when he realized that keller wasn't really saying much — and the other usually was the one to fill the silence with his lovely voice, one that seungjae would never get tired of hearing. looking up from the paper where he had quickly written down some information before to make sure that everything was fine, the exorcist was instead met with the prettiest eyes looking at him with so much fondness that even someone as dense as seungjae would notice.

almost immediately, he felt the tip of his ears warm up to a concerning degree, and all words he was going to say seemingly died in his throat. for a few moments, seungjae could only hold keller's gaze, unable to find the strength in him to look away no matter how flustered he had gotten. seungjae wasn't sure how much time it had passed with the two of them looking at each other, but it felt like an eternity and not long enough at the same time.

with heart beating so loudly inside his chest he almost wondered if keller could hear it, seungjae finally broke the silence by awkwardly clearing his throat. " sorry, i... lost my train of thought. " he apologized, completely forgetting everything he was talking just seconds before just because he had laid eyes on the most important person in his life. averting his gaze for a moment in attempt to regain his composture, seungjae found himself quickly stealing another glance in keller's direction, simply unable to stop himself from doing so. " did... did you have any questions? or... maybe we can take a break and do something else... "

a few more moments passed before seungjae continued, voice quiet and shy, almost like a whisper. " like kissing... "

inbox meme .

[therubyreader]

My Thoughts on The Hunger Games as an Adult

While this isn't technically a book review I'm still going to count it and link the rest of my reviews here.

I have rejoined The Hunger Games hype with the new prequel movie based on the prequel book, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, coming out this year. I was a huge fan of the Hunger Games books back when I was in middle school when the first movie came out and I forced my family (and then eventually my friends) into watching the movies with me. I know I read the first book in the series a couple of times since I owned a copy of it but I don't remember if I read the rest of the series multiple times since I didn't get the rest of the books until literally this week since I now have adult money. That all to say that I haven't read the books or watched the movies, in almost a decade, so here's just a quick compilation of thoughts I had while reading the first book that are different from my original perception of it as a kid:

Katniss is an unreliable narrator

I know full well this sentiment has been expressed by multiple people across multiple platforms but hearing it and experiencing it are two very different things. Though I learned about unreliable narrators as a kid, I was still like, eleven, the first time I read the book so I was young and naive and trusting of everyone. I genuinely didn't get the whole star crossed lovers thing because I trusted Katniss and because she was telling me that Peeta was also pretending for the sake of the game I believed it. Now, as an adult with more life experience but the same amount of romantic experience as child me (none), it is so glaringly obvious that Peeta was genuinely in love with Katniss the whole time! Everything makes so much more sense now.

The writing is... strange

Ok, hear me out before you come for me, the writing isn't bad per se but it does feel strange now rereading after an added decade of consuming more literature across different genres and time periods, and getting a degree in writing (kind of), it just reads weird now. Again, strange isn't bad, and I realize that I'm reading YA literature which is a far cry from the classics in terms of technique, which is fine because classics make my head hurt, but there were certain choices that were for sure made. For starters, there would be multiple scenes where Katniss would pass out and it would just go from one paragraph to another with no breaks to let us know time has passed, or multiple days would be covered in a sentence. Though I do get the stream of consciousness way of writing adds to the story and Katniss as a character, it just felt clunky to me.

Why is everything so fast?

This might be a combination of the movies skewing my perception of the book, the fact we have to cover a month in a limited amount of pages, and just run of the mill forgetfulness (because, again, it's been years) but everything happened so damn fast. I could've sworn that Katniss and Rue spent multiple days together before Rue died but it was only one which was bonkers. The training sessions lasted only like two pages, which again could be because of the things I said earlier, but for some reason I thought they were in there for longer. Same thing with the train to the Capitol and back, and I do get that we're supposed to spend the majority of the plot in the actual games but everything just happened so fast. Maybe it was a deliberate choice to make everything before and after the games so hazy and the games themselves very real and present, but again, it was just not at all how I remembered.

Gale is more irrelevant than I remember

Again, this is probably because the movies played up the whole love triangle thing, but Gale is only really there for a bit and most of the mentions of him are either memories or Katniss just thinking about him in passing. I know he's a bigger part of the other two books, and much more present, but he is just a footnote in the first book which I completely forgot about.

The violence?!?!

Now, I know what you all are saying "but Val, this is The Hunger Games, it's about kids killing each other, it's going to be violent" and I know that, but it just hits different as an adult. I mean, remember, when I first started reading the books I was eleven, to me it was just a silly little YA novel with a fun adventure and a romantic subplot, because again, I was a child. Now, over a decade later, as an adult reading how literal children are being forced to fight each other to the death for entertainment, the messaging of the story is very clear to me. I think this also made me appreciate it more in terms of world building and the morality of it which for me made the book more enjoyable. And I know that's strange, understanding the violence of it and getting rid of my childhood naivety and innocence, made my childhood favorite, better, when usually it's the opposite.

I think those are all my thoughts for now (haha), I have read the second book in between when I first started writing this post and when I'm finishing it but my thoughts on it are more or less the same. But! I can do another post of this nature in the future if you all want for Catching Fire or for Mockingjay which I'm about to start as soon as I post this.

[bratz-kitten]

Nikola Stojanovic’s degree theory 

— you can learn more about his theory here and here. he was the maker of this theory, i’m simply passing the knowledge i’ve researched on him in a more simplified way!!! trigger warning for mentions of death and violence for the 11º, the 15º, the 18º and the 22º degrees 

according to nikola’s research, each degree is connected to the sign it rules: 

aries degrees — 1º, 13º, 25º - taking action, fighting spirit, not giving oneself up to fate, struggle, war, can indicate abuse, labor, diligence, leadership, beginnings, etc

taurus degrees — 2º, 14º, 26º - money, food, the earth, stability, luxuries, voice, singing, etc

gemini degrees — 3º, 15º, 27º - communication, gadgets like televisions or phones, self-expression, books, siblings, neighbourhood, etc

cancer degrees — 4º, 16º, 28º - home, nurture, traditions, loyalty, faith, mother, water, etc

leo degrees — 5º, 17º, 29º - attention, life, fame, light, children, creativity, self-expression, monarchs, entertainment, strength, hair, etc

virgo degrees — 6º, 18º - to diminish, to make smaller, improvement, health, work, routine, pets, to be of service, etc

libra degrees — 7º, 19º - fairness, law, business, partnerships, fashion, beauty, charm, luxury items, music, art, etc

scorpio degrees — 8º, 20º - the 8º specifically is connected to death, wealth, to take from others, manifestation, secrets, insurance, sex, jealousy, pregnancy, etc

sagittarius degrees — 9º, 21º - abundance, expansion, wisdom, college, travelling, to explore, etc

capricorn degrees — 10º, 22º - to take control, public attention, coldness, fear, depression, rationality, ambition, father, etc

aquarius degrees — 11º, 23º - divorce, surprises, high places, high tech, new technology, humanitarianism, organizations, friends, networking, etc

pisces degrees — 12º, 24º - sleeping, drugs, alcohol, lethargy, the unconcious + our psyche, emotional dejections, feet, madness, shadows, unclear, endings, etc

0º represents the basic characteristic of the sign - it acts in its purest form. for example, if you have the 0º in aries sun, aries here acts in its most potent, pure way. 

that way, if you, for example, have your ascendant in pisces at the 13º, you’ll express aries characteristics + all that is connected to taking action, to fight. now, knowing this, this theory can manifest itself in different ways. 

i’m going to give an example that he talked about in his website that i found simple to understand yet powerful. when nikola was discussing with another astrologer, he wanted to talk about his degree theory, so he took a look at the birth chart of the wife of the other astrologer, and after a minute of analyzing it, he said as follows: “Your wife called a carpenter to the house and ordered a larger bed to be made. When the carpenter had finished the job, you went to bed and realized that the work was not properly done. One measure was right – the bed was long enough - but the other one wasn't – the bed wasn't wide enough, it was still narrow”. the look the other astrologer gave him told him that his brief analysis was absolutely correct.

his reasoning behind it was that the wife’s 12th house (which rules sleeping, beds, bedrooms) cusp began at the 21º of aries, and the ruler of that house, mars, was at the 6º in virgo. aries simbolizes to create and the 21º, a sagittarius degree, simbolizes to enlarge. so, his wife wanted to create (aries) a larger (sagittarius/jupiter) bed (the 12th house). because mars, the ruler of the 12th house, was placed in virgo (someone who renders services, a worker), she called the carpenter to the house. her mars was, however, in virgo at the 6º which is a virgo degree (virgo simbolizes diminishing, making smaller), which meant the measure of the bed had to be smaller than needed. therefore, the cusp of the 12th house (the bed) at the 21º (sagittarius - larger, longer) signifies that the bed was both long enough (enlarged), and mars in virgo at a virgo degree (6º) meant that it was not wide enough (it was narrow). nikola established connections between degrees, the signs, the planets and the houses where they fell and the aspects that they made in order to make this kind of predictions. 

he also found a few degrees to be connected to significant things. 

THE 2º DEGREE - SUPREME POWER 

nikola, through the research of the birth charts of many people throughout history, observed how those who contained planets, houses and aspects (+lunar nodes, arabic parts, vertex and of course, the four cardinal points: the IC, MC, AC and DC) in the 2º degree were those who made remarkable achievements, who wielded extreme power and were highly respected. he got to this conclusion by analyzing the birth chart of queen victoria - other rulers at the time had more powerful aspects than she did, but allas, they weren’t the ones to almost rule the entire world - it was her, so he began noticing the pattern between power and the 2º. literal jesus himself had his mercury in pisces in the 2º. i myself have four degrees at 2º, so it’s nice to know my dreams of starting a revolution, overthrowing the government and achieving world domination are supported by the astros

THE 5º DEGREE - EROTICISM 

this degree is connected to beauty, desire, sex appeal, receiving sexual attention. many sex icons like marilyn monroe, jean harlow and mata hari had it present in their birth chart. nikola talks about this being the best degree in his eyes. considering that it’s a leo degree, it’s all about living, having fun and enjoying life. 

THE 11º DEGREE - DIVORCE / SUICIDE 

both the 11º and 23º degrees of aquarius indicate divorce, but, according to nikola, the 11º is connected to suicide.

THE 15º DEGREE - CAR ACCIDENTS 

this degree, when connected to scorpio + the 8th house, can indicate car accidents.  

THE 18º DEGREE - PURE EVIL 

simbolizes a bad destiny. to nikola, this is the worst degree you can have. it can indicate rare deseases, tragic accidents. he says there’s no good about this degree but i absolutely disagree. not to be a hopeless optimist or to pretend to possess half the knowledge that he does but i think it’s pretentious to assume that a degree is literally all bad and that there’s nothing we can do about it — that takes away from our free will and our inner strength. Many, many people have this degree present in their charts (i believe nikola had it himself), it’s all about facing hardships but, well, that’s life.

THE 22º DEGREE - TO KILL OR BE KILLED 

nikola has found this degree in the birth charts of murderers + people that were murdered. his significance of “to kill or be killed” is quite literal. now, i want to remind you that this is the worst case scenario and that this degree can manifest itself in many diferent ways - just like the 18º and the 8º. the death can be figurative. for example, donald trump’s chart: he has his sun in 22º, and his mercury in 8º - and I’m afraid he’s quite alive at his old age and kicking it, even if he’s suffered a public destruction. @saintzjenx in her degree theory post talked about how this placement can also indicate abandonment. i agree, i have my sun at 22º in the 10th house (the house of the father) and my father was very emotionally absent + physically as well (his work has him working at other cities during the entire week) 

THE 29º DEGREE - CLAIRVOYANCE/PROGNOSTICISM 

the 29º indicates someone with clairvoyant potential, someone who makes accurate predictions, with great intuition. it’s to note that nikola himself had a 29º in his chart, and that he became known for the predictions he made using the degree theory (for example, he predicted that america would have its first black president ten years before barack obama was elected). but he does like to say that he has absolutely no intuition, though - what prompted him to study the degrees was his virgo rising, acording to him, his need to study and put his brain to work. still, he observed how many clairvoyants had this degree. other astrologers talk about this being a degree that means destruction (and when you analyze trump’s birth chart and how he has his ascendant and his 11th house at the 29º, you can very much argue about the truth behind that theory) but all in all, nikola talks about this degree as benefic. 

in case you’re feeling bad, remember i have the to kill or be killed 22º, plus the 8º of death, plus the 11º of suicide, plus the 23º of divorce, plus two of the 18º of pure evil! let’s suffer together besties. on the upside i have four of the 2º so we riding to eternal glory! 

but now seriously, i know some of this is very hard bc obviously life isn’t all fun and games but. remember that we all have free will, life isn’t determined and having a lot of these in your chart doesn’t mean impending doom!! i have them and i’m very much kicking it and i’m not intending to stop. it’s all about acceptance, learning how to work with even the worst degrees in order to make the best out of them. plus, the degrees can manifest themselves in a lot of different ways and a lot more matters than just them being present - like the signs that they’re in, the aspects with which they make and how harsh they are, the house where they fall etc etc. 

please do take your time to read through his website + to watch the interviews nikola did on youtube!! he was an amazing astrologer whose theory greatly impacted the way astrology is studied today. he��s fun to learn from, too, which is a plus

[labeeboheme]

my spencer reid headcanons

(when a happy one matches a sad one, they’ll be matching colours)

also tw - vague mention of suicide, drug addiction, disordered eating mention (never anything graphic)

happy/cute

- Garcia and the rest of the team would leave little sticky notes around his desk and normally they’d just make him smile but when he was having a rough day they’d literally make him tear up with happiness

- he’s obscenely good at present giving, because he simultaneously remembers everything that people say they like and also has his ridiculous knowledge of what exists out there

- one week (it coincided with him being clean for 5 years, he never made the connection) he walked into the briefing room and every member of the team was dressed exactly as him. he kept trying to bring it up and everybody pretended they had no idea what he was on about. it became their BAU group chat icon for years.

- one of the best days of his life was when garcia took him dog walking with her, he got to just wander around with 6 dogs all day

- jack grows to adore him just as much as henry does. spencer hangs around a lot because him and hotch are usually the ones without anyone to hang out with at the weekend, and he takes jack to the museum with henry and michael all the time. jack ends up being a lot more like spencer than he imagined (which both terrifies and delights hotch)

- Spencer has never actually attended a graduation, despite having graduated from various degrees like 10+ times. when the BAU (Alex probably) finds out, they all force him into a gown and rock up to cheer him

- they liked to play trivia games where it was spencer vs the rest of the team, but someone (i’m thinking emily) picks up that it makes him feel left out. they then take turns being on spencer’s team. one month, the non-spencer team beats them and the joy it gives them makes him smile for a week

- garcia learns how to make mocktails and without fail, will make a huge jug for him anytime the rest are drinking alcohol but make sure they’re fun flavours so he gets just as much excitement as everyone else

- after Diana is moved to Virginia, the team become really close to her. JJ takes the boys to hang out with her because she’s always loved children (and Diana sometimes thinks Henry is a young Spencer, which makes JJ worry about how Spencer will react but he’s just sitting here grinning with tears in his eyes because he’s finally getting to see his mom be the mom he knew she could be)

- the BAU love his glasses, and there’s a competition to get a photo of him with them on, but he’s very good at avoiding cameras. After one case in a hotel they even try to hide his contact solution to force him to wear them (amateurs - he definitely keeps a spare box in his coat). There eventually is a single photo of them wearing them, but all members of the BAU fail. Spencer is babysitting Henry, who is distraught about having to wear glasses to school. Spencer gives up trying to comfort him and just takes his contact lenses out and switches them for glasses. Henry is super shocked but so happy that he matches his favourite person, so Spencer takes a photo of the two of them so that Henry can put it next to his bed

- he gets a cat after prison, it’s a tabby cat that is the light of his life, and the cat is just heavy enough that when Spencer gets it to sit on his lap that cat can be used a grounding pressure

—————————————————

angsty/sad

- developed disordered eating habits that started from him always being super underweight as a child bc he couldn’t afford food and then when he got to college he started to eat properly and put on actually healthy weight but he was so adverse to change that it freaked him out

- one of the roughest days at the BAU, after all the obvious terrible times, was when Morgan and Hotch was just having a casual conversation about how they’d helped Strauss with her addiction and it just broke him. he ended up hiding under Garcia’s desk and he’d only speak to her and Emily (as the only people I think ever actually helped him) and was non verbal, once they finally got him out into the office he refused to speak to either of them and was just stimming with garcia comforting him (once he started talking again he whispered why he was so upset to emily, and she joined him in his glaring at them every time he looked at them. morgan and hotch never really worked it out and eventually reid just gave up on being upset because he knew it couldn’t change what happened)

- spencer has never walked across the stage at graduation, but that doesn’t mean he never went to a graduation. his first degree his mom promised she’d come, but ended up not leaving the house. he stood to the side of the stage in his gown trying not to cry before just going back home and having the diploma mailed to him

- he relapsed in prison. he considered his sobriety over after the events in Mexico, and so just briefly gave up when one of the inmates offered him some. as soon as Garcia came to visit him, he broke down and never did it again. he never told Morgan and so he still got a text every year on the day he first got clean, which he thought he’d absolutely hate but ended up finding comfort in because even if the “happy 12 years sobriety, kid” should have been “happy 2 years sobriety, kid”, it reminded him that he’d done it before and could do it again

- after maeve died and they came round to help him clean his apartment, he was really proud of himself for being able to put her book on the shelf and feel like he’s moving on. and then the next day he was getting ready to go to work properly for the first time and he was just getting more and more terrified and anxious and then started to spiral because the longer he panicked the later he was. and it reminded him of how scared maeve had been to come outside to meet him at the restaurant but she’d done it anyway, and he put the book in his bag and found it a lot easier to leave the house after that

- Spencer is so goddamn bitter about them not helping him get clean, and he mentions it whenever he can. In a angry-but-never-let-himself-be-angry way, he takes some justification in seeing the team squirm with guilt. one day he’s listing symptoms of withdrawal for a case, and just starts to go like “another symptom is intense muscle pain, which for me was definitely the worst” or “yeah nausea is real bad, not that you’d know I guess” like he’s exhausted and pissed off and just gives up any pretence of subtlety

- when Diana dies, the whole team rally around Reid more than he could imagine. They all organise the funeral basically for him, and Garcia constantly cooks for him, and at least one person sleeps on his sofa each night in case he needs them. By week two he’s doing okay, and he quickly realises they’re doing it for themselves more than him, because they’re so desperate to let him know how loved he is. It’s still one of the worst weeks of his life, but it’s bearable and that’s purely down to him never having to feel lonely

- there’s a reason he knew exactly what to do when he walked in on Nathan Harris, and that’s because he’s done it with his mom, except that time he was 12 and his dad had just left and he just sat there covered in blood waiting for the ambulance, and whilst promising the paramedics that his dad was on his way home so that social services wouldn’t turn up, he read countless books on medical treatment so that next time he wouldn’t be so hopeless

- I respectfully disagree with the line where he’s like “this is my first meeting” at the Beltway clean cops, I’m convinced he would drive two hours to a meeting miles away so he could truly be anonymous and sit curled up in a chair and cry in meetings without even the slightest chance of seeing someone he knew

[pan-ick]

Golden Child Pt. 1

I literally can't remember where I found it but I read a headcannon for an angsty SBI +Reader and I loved it so much that I had to write something similar to it but I think I might have forgotten to like it, so if you know what the original is please tell me so I can credit them I was partially inspired by@helliontherapscallion's "Adrenaline Junkie" series, simply for the fact that because of them i haven't stopped thinking of inventor reader. Also let's just pretend that uh my human biology degree isn't going to waste by me writing blindness incorrectly ha ha. This is a purely fictional way that blindness works.

(REMINDER YOU IDIOT, FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY: Wilbur is 26, Techno is 20, Tommy is 16, Phil is 32, SO READER IS 22, GET IT RIGHT AND STOP MESSING UP)

As soon as Y/N's wings started developing, they were instantly the favorite child. Philza still showed his love to Wilbur, but nowhere near as much as he did to his winged child. If he had to choose between spending time with them or Wilbur, he'd pick them in a heartbeat. Wilbur was usually upset when this happened, but he had gotten used to it and had learned ways to cope with it.

This was until Techno showed up. On their doorstep. Next to a freezing Philza who had sacrificed most his warmth to the young piglin. Wilbur had his thoughts on this, yhough he kept them to himself. But Y/N couldn't be happier! This meant a new friend, AND they were right when they said that Phil was just a nice person, there wasn't a favorite child! Right?

They quickly realized that Techno wasn't their friend, as the first interaction they had together was them getting a claw to the face by the piglin. Philza just simply sighed and made sure the wound would stop bleeding before tending back to the scared pig.

Y/N was only eight at the time, they didn't know what they were feeling. But whatever it was didn't feel good.

Since that day, Y/N was the new Wilbur and 'Technoblade' was the golden child. Y/N wanted the spotlight back, so they tried hard at everything. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was better than what Techno could do. Nothing was more amazing than Techno's knowledge, or his skills in fighting, or his odd way of speaking, or those stupid things that he did, or the fact that he'd always blame it on some 'voices' in his head. That he had a God complex. That he was better than Wilbur. He was better than Tommy. He was better than you...

He was always better than you. Of course. Thats what you felt when you first met. Not amazement, not the happiness of having another friend. Of course not. It was overwhelming jealousy. But he was your brother, so you had to suck it up just like Wilbur did.

But soon enough, they came to peace with this. They moved on and worked on what they actually enjoyed, not what Philza enjoyed. Mechanics. Phil would have killed you if he learned of all the dangers that you put yourself through to consider yourself an inventor. Or.... Would he?

One day your older brother approached you with his idea to create "L'manburg". At first you couldn't help but laugh. But when it was realized that Wilbur wasn't joking and that he had already recruited Tommy, they agreed to join the fight for freedom. It was a way to pay Wilbur back for being there for them, afterall.

Y/N never imagined the true horrors that they would have to go through so they could say a 'thank you' to Wilbur. They never even truly said it to him, L'manburg was already exploded and he was killed before they could say it to him. Not even saying it to Ghostbur was good enough.

Y/N was forced to suffer through watching her loved ones go mad. Sometimes, they would try coming up with inventions that could help her friends out, and some that could help some regular problems in the world for other people. Most of them didn't work, they were only able to produce goggles that could just barely help fully blind people see. But it was a step in the right direction.

Then doomsday came. Y/N didn't want to be part of it, they didn't want to even try hurting their father and younger brother. They aren't even sure how they came to that point.

Before they knew it, they were begging the man who once gave them anything in the world for him to stop. The whole server was one big family especially everyone in the homes he was about to destroy. But what they wanted didn't matter anymore. It's what Technoblade wanted, and he wanted blood.

At the last moment, Y/N remembered Friend. Ghostbur would be devastated if Friend died.

Falling down to the ground from the small warning of TNT, Friend flooded their mind.

If they couldn't save L'Manburg, they needed to save Friend. Ghostbur wasn't the same, but Ghostbur is Wilbur. They still never said thank you. They have to show their gratitude through the miracle of Friend surviving.

And so that's what they set off to do. With no mind to their own self-preservation, Y/N got up and flew as fast as they could to save Friend. But before they could reach the sheep, a large pile of rubble fell on one of their wings, almost snapping it right off. Y/N tried to get it off but to no avail, and their whole body wasn't safe. As they saw more rubble they crouched down while covering their head with their hands and covering the undamaged wing with their body, they prepared for impact.

The last thing they could speak out was almost incomprehensible.

"Wil..... Will...... Ghosbu.............. Tommy.......... Dad............."

And then everything went black. Y/N couldn't see or feel anything. Not even after her youngest brother, the ghost of her older brother, and the three fiances of the SMP untrapped them. There was nothing.

After what felt like years for the brothers, there was finally a glimpse of Y/N waking up. But they continued to drift in and out of consciousness and whenever someone tried communicating they were completely unresponsive.

During this amount of time, it was agreed that it was in their best interest for their wings to be removed. They were both utterly useless now after being crushed and would just be extra weight with unnecessary pain that can be avoided the sooner their wings get removed. Just in case Y/N was still aware of everything going on, they were put under amnesia to lower the chance of them feeling the agony of a wing removal surgery.

Slowly Y/N began more responsive to people, but never to the same amount. Everyone that took care of them were absolutely heartbroken when they figured out part of the rock that fell on them damaged a vital organ that allowed a person to see. Luck was in fact on their side for damaging their eyesight instead of the brain, however most people didn't see it that way.

Ghostbur took it upon himself to become Y/N's seeing-eye dog. He missed having Friend nearby and Y/N was the thing he connected to the most after Friend's death.

After a few months of trying to get used to no longer having sight or wings Y/N was finally allowed back in their lab with a large amount of supervision from Ghostbur. While carefully running their hands across some unfinished inventions, Y/N comes across the goggles that they made at least a year ago. It immediately smarked a memory deep within their brain, the closest thing they had felt to seeing something ever since doomsday.

"Ghostbur, what color are these?" "Oh, they're blue. Blue's a really nice color, it reminds me of Friend. Do you remember Frien- Why are you looking down at those like that? Would you like some blue, it takes your sadness away! Wait dont put them on, the glass has cracks!" Y/N snickers as the ghost tries to take them away from them without being super forceful, "I'm already blind, what's the worst it can do?"

"Dont say that!" Ghostbur gasps, "We will find a way to get your vision back, those goggles might make it impossible!"

"I made these around the time you first showed up. I ran multiple tests with them and I was able to help a blind person see the world again. Sure, it was very blurry, hard to distinguish a lot of colors from each other, we have a different kind of blindness, and its been more that a year since I last tested them, but they might still work." Y/N explains, then they turn their back to Ghostbur and put the goggles on. This time, Ghostbut only makes a sound in protest.

Blinking, Y/N could feel the stimulation in their brain that they lost along with their eyesight come back. They moved their hands from the position they were in to put the invention on to Y/N's line of sight, and they could see their hands again. Fuzzy, shapeless, hands with a few bandaids and many scars on them.

"So, are they working?"

The voice of your brother brings Y/N back to reality and they turn to look at him. They had completely forgotten what Ghostbur looked like, only remembering vaguely what child Wilbur looked liked and a brief description of how Ghostbur's appearance differed for Wilbur's.

Y/N wraps their arms around the Ghost, not actually hugging but just doing the motion to where they would hug a person they could actually touch, as they tried to not cry in front of him.

(WOOOOOO THIS ENDED UP A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND I'M NOT EVEN DONE YET, SO I SEPARATED IT INTO TWO PARTS)

[keepingupwithpotters]

If you’re taking prompts

“You’re really warm.” and

“Come back to bed. Please” for jily pls??

I am laughing at for jily like I'm capable of writing for anything else. I promise you, even if it is about two unrelated characters, I'll find a way to make it about jily

Also finally put the drabbles on ao3 as promised so you can read this there as well

Fretting over Lily Evans was nothing new for James, but this time might’ve put him to his early grave after all.

He touches her forehead discreetly, trying not to disturb her sleep. She went in and out of her slumber all night, giving him a scare half the time with her nonsensical mumblings. He doesn’t recall when exactly he fell asleep too, not long ago according to the rising sun, but that’s how he finds himself next to her now.

Blinking his eyes woozily, he gives himself permission for a moment of bliss before jumping into action, pretending they are lying side by side not because she is burning like a furnace, but like he always wakes up next to Lily, this hair tickling his shoulder not unusual.

He can only guess what prompted her to call him last night. A bitter part of him thinks it’s because she knew he would come running, no questions asked. It’s hard to ignore that part when that was exactly what he did, probably before he even hung up the phone. There is, of course, always the chance that it was the side effect of her running fever. One should not underestimate it, he learned that firsthand all through the night.

The pretense falls apart when he feels Lily’s skin, panic rising inside him all over again. He has spent the whole night trying to make sure her temperature didn’t pass 40 degrees, hand ready over his phone for the minute it did. It feels like it has risen again, her cheeks flaming bright to prove his insight right.

“Aren’t you gonna kiss my forehead?”

She startles him, with the question or her half open eyes smiling dozily at him, he doesn’t know.

“Why would I take advantage of the ill, Evans?”

Her smile gets softer, fonder. “That’s how my mom used to take my temperature.”

He’s never been able to say no to that smile.

She closes her eyes with the kiss, looking content and peaceful, not at all like the bedridden patient she is supposed to be. He lingers one second longer than necessary.

He has forgotten the purpose of the act until she looks at him expectantly, waiting for his verdict.

“You’re really warm.”

She doesn’t care for his furrowed brows or less than satisfactory explanation when she snuggles into him, purring, “Thank you, so are you.”

“That was not a compliment, Evans.” He tries to hide the fact his breath hitches when she burrows her face in his neck. “That means I am doing something very, very wrong. Are you sure you don’t want me to call anybody else?”

Her hold on him tightens even further if possible. She sounds like a petulant child when she whines her refusal. He can imagine, and feel, her pout.

He tries to untangle himself from her, but she looks so offended by his actions that he feels the need to explain himself. “I need to wet these rags again, and you need to eat some breakfast so you can take your antipyretics.”

She opens her mouth to say something, another refusal going by her displeased expression, but he jumps from the bed before she can tempt her more.

He goes to the bathroom first, thinking maybe some cool water would do him good too. She is already asleep by the time he comes back, hand reaching out to where he once laid on the bed. He places the damp clothes on her forehead with a grin, letting it take over his face while she is not able to see it. The pills he found when he rummaged through her medicine cabinet are put on her nightstand, waiting for his arrival with some food.

Preparing some eggs and toast helps him gather himself a little more, the habitual routine putting his brain on autopilot. The morning feels like something out of James’ dreams with Lily cuddling him in the bed and him making her breakfast, he finds it necessary to remind himself the true nature of the situation as he fills a glass of water for her.

She is awake when he enters the room, following his motions silently as he puts the plate on her side too. He is just about to sit on the chair by her bedside when she stops him with a hand on his arm.

“I promise I’ll eat something in a minute. Can you just… come back to bed? Please?”

His will already weakened since he woke up, he finds that it crumbles completely when he hears her voice so weak, tone so pleading. He lays down on his previous place without saying anything, her head finding his shoulder immediately.

A small hand traces patterns on his chest, nails tickling the heart underneath with every swoop. They could probably live in that relaxed bubble forever if the question nagging inside him just hadn’t popped out unexpectedly.

“Why did you call me yesterday, Lily?”

The finger drawing flowers, stars, and initials never stops its movement. “Because I had a high fever, and I didn’t want to go to the ER.”

“No. I mean, why did you call me?”

He holds his breath in anticipation of her answer, and she stills momentarily too before shaking out of her stupor. “I wanted to be with you.” Her voice sounds so small. “I always want to be with you, you know that.”

There is relief ballooning inside him with her words, mixed with something he dares not name. He hums softly as a response, neither denying nor confirming her assumption.

“We can stay in bed for one more minute, then I’m gonna make you eat that breakfast, Evans.”

“Two, because you just took advantage of a sick person’s honesty and I deserve it.”

“Deal.”

He’ll let her pretend like he won’t do anything she asks for. They both know it’s a lie anyway.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

ascendance - 04

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: hello!! i hope you enjoy this new chapter as i dive more into bucky’s past. italics in this work symbolise a flashback in case anyone’s confused. hope you enjoy it xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

The entrance hall of the Barnes household was pilled up with people. Between his mum barking orders left to right and caterers bringing food in and out, the once silent room turned into a busy crossroads which meant James had retreated back to his room. He was sat down in his bed, cashmere black suit on and hair pushed back, Dead Souls opened on top his legs. He was lost in between the small black letters printed on the yellowing paper, so lost that the sound of his window opening went by him until a loud thump woke him up from his literary daze. Bucky looked up to see his younger sister, sat on the floor of his bedroom by the window with her dress partially on and hair messy due to the windy weather outside. He sighed, closing his book and putting it off to the side.

    - Can’t you climb into your own bedroom? - Bucky got up from bed, leaning down to help her back onto her feet.

    - Yours is closer. - she brushed the dirt off her baby pink dress picked by their mother. - Shouldn’t you be downstairs?

    - Shouldn’t you be in your bedroom? 

    - Touche. - she pointed. - Can you not tell mum? She’ll freak out if she discovers that I went out on dad’s big day. 

    - Go on, I’ll keep mum occupied while you sort out that bird’s nest hair. 

    - Thank you! - she smiled, giving him a short hug. - What am I gonna do when you go to Princeton? Who’s gonna cover for me?

    - I guess you’ll just have to form an alliance with the maids.

Y/N and Bucky were silent, barely speaking to each other if even looking into each other’s eyes. She merely remained there in her operatic costume, the corset doing the best of jobs at enhancing her female features and almost making her look like a femme fatale out of a classical movie in rich red and green fabrics decorated with what he guessed where heavy metal gold pieces resembling precious jewels and golden rings. He did not know which production they were putting on, he hadn’t even heard her sing before but she looked like she belonged in that stage, like she would have been showered in praise the moment the spotlight grazed her. 

She paced around the living room not exactly sure what to do, the beads which made up her skirt and would suddenly peak to show her legs making a slight rustling noise as her eyes studied the book shelf which was filled with tons and tons of books from the classics to mere economy books. Maybe she could read them whenever the tension between of them wasn’t so apparent. She couldn’t help but sometimes look at the badly fixed window and wonder if she could make it, maybe when he wasn’t looking, maybe when he was sleeping yet looking at him; tall, muscular, fast, definetely much stronger than her, she knew that even if she managed to get outside, he would easily get her back. Her mind battled her positive side as she wondered if this was it, if this was home now. Suddenly, her old flat no longer seemed old and she would give everything away if only she could go back, back to being told to do errands that really did not concern her, to stepping on bobby pins laid on the ground, to way too strong makeup which looked ridiculous in proper daylight. She would give everything, if she could go back to what her life had been. 

The man whose name he hadn’t even dignified himself to tell her yet was sat on one of the high chairs by the kitchen with his eyes trained on her. She briskly turned around, arms crossed under her chest with an almost child like pout of someone who had just been punished. In reality, I’m the one who’s being punished here, he thought to himself.

     - You could tell me your name. - she said, not looking into his eyes, instead rubbing her worn out ballet shoes against his hard floor. 

     - You don’t need to know my name. - he was quiet yet imposing. Y/N could not deny he seemed to have a strong presence despite barely raising his voice. It was almost magnetic as if he was made to be looked at, yet she felt he didn’t want to be seen. 

     - What if I need to call out for you? 

     - I would know. There’s no one else here, is it?

Y/N did not reply to this, instead rolling her eyes and sitting down on the couch. There was not much to do in the small one bedroom apartment other than pace around, eat and watch television. Her hand flew over to the remote, pointing it at the TV to turn it on which opened on the news channel. She guessed this was the way she had of now knowing what was happening outside the four walls she was being held captive in. There wasn’t much happening and even if it was, all the local news could talk about was about the upcoming mayoral election. It was a circus with advertisements and rumours flying around about each and every candidate and while it was almost painfully enjoyable to see men over thirty acting like gossip mean girls in school, everyone knew who was gonna win. 

She’d always been told that behind every great man, there’s a great woman and in this particular election it couldn’t be anymore true. The favourite candidate to win, Robert Moore, also known as Bobbie, was married to an senator’s daughter but not just any senator, Senator Barnes. She was too young to remember his policies or even his public persona, yet from what she knew, he had been a very well liked and well respected Senator, coming from a prominent family and building an even more prominent family. Being married to Rebecca Barnes, now Rebecca Barnes-Moore, was a one way ticket to a good career in politics. The two stood in the television screen, side by side in an almost JFK and Jackie Kennedy fashion with sunny smiles looking like the picture perfect Americana couple. It seemed all his ads showed him, his wife and their new born baby. High school sweethearts, it seemed.

    - Are you gonna watch that the whole day? - she turned her head around, looking at his annoyed expression, whiskey glass in hand. 

    - They look good together. 

    - It’s a circus. - he snickered, sitting by her side. 

    - What are you? An anarchist? - those words flew out of her mouth without any filter, mostly out of nuisance. - Her father was a great politician and he is young and likeable.  

     - Young and likeable ... sounds like great political traits. 

     - What do you know about politics?

     - What do you know about politics? Do they have a crash course in politics at whatever company you were in? 

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up to listen to the broadcaster tell the love story of the future mayor and his wife. Her face softened as she heard what was probably a highly modified version of the actual truth yet she couldn’t help but slightly smile at the idea of it. They seemed in love and as someone who had a degree in pretending to be in love while singing, it warmed her heart to see it. She liked that idea, the idea of Ms and Mrs Americana, the idea of having someone to lean in. Well, she liked the idea of someone. Sure, maybe the man whose name she still didn’t know and was starting to believe was never going to learn was right, it was a circus, all elections are but she couldn’t help but be pulled by the myth of it, by the we against the world mentality no matter how morally wrong it was. 

She continued to watch the coverage of the election run as the man next to her got up from the couch to pick up a phone call. Her hearing slightly moved towards what he was doing, mind always thinking of escaping but even though he was talking on the phone, his gaze was trained of her as if she were his prey. He mumbled something on the phone before turning it off and moving his eyes to text someone yet after that his eyes were on her once more. 

    - Try not to escape for the next hour.

    - Do you have a nameless anarchy convention to attend?

    - Billy is coming to watch over you. No funny business. 

    - Will. - she corrected him. - He doesn’t like being called Billy. 

    - As long as you don’t pull a mission impossible on him, I will call him whatever you want. 

Will didn’t take long to arrive, dressed in a tennis-like outfit as if he had been pulled away from tennis which sounded like something he’d do. Bucky exchanged a few words with him before leaving the two of them together. He trusted Billy, or Will, was smart enough not to let her escape or run away. God, he didn’t even want to think about what John would do to him if she escaped, much less what he would do to her if she escaped. He made his drive to John’s condo in fifth avenue, parking his bike somewhere before making his way up. The condo was always weirdly filled with chatter talk yet he could see no people, it was as if the ghosts of the people he had taken out followed him in his own home and Bucky couldn’t say he pitied him. After all, he had his own ghosts too. 

He looked into John’s office where he was sat in the couch, the coverage of the election run on the television on low volume. John’s eyes immediately found Bucky’s figure looming at the entrance, never really entering, just standing behind the line which separated the hall from the office. 

     - How’s the roomie? - he motioned his hand for him to come in. - Still pretty?

     - What do you need?

     - I just got an invitation to a fundraiser. Zemo’s going so I want you to go. 

     - I can’t, I have her to watch over Y/N. She’s not very keen on remaining in the flat.

    - Chain her up for all I care. It’s in two weeks and I’ll be damned if I’m there by myself with Zemo. Besides it’s your sister’s fundraiser, I always love to see Rebecca. 

    - She’s not gonna be there. - his jaw locked. - A fundraiser for the mob? It’s mostly free alcohol and networking with them not showing up. 

    - Maybe you should bring your roomie. She’s pretty and if anything I’m sure she can sing and if not maybe she can entertain in another form. 

    - The NYPD is probably looking for her, it’s not wise ...

    - Do you make the rules? - John interrupted him, leaning against the couch with arms crossed. - You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules, soldat. 

    - I just don’t think ...

    - You don’t think. - he interrupted him once more. - This election is important and since I do not have the right person here to get ahead, I will make do with what we have. I don’t give a fuck about what you do when you’re at your flat but she is mine. She is my get out of jail card. Are we clear, soldat?

    - Yes. 

    - You can go now. - he dismissed him. Bucky turned around, eyes open wide yet emotionless face as if he were disconnected from his own consciousness. He guessed it was for the best to remain disconnected, to not know what was going on.

He drove himself back home, standing alone at night looking at his flat; the window still broken while the lights were flickering. He thought about running off, starting his bike and running off into the night and just drive until the tank was empty but he couldn’t. He had strings, strings which kept him tied to where he was right now. He guessed that now she was another string keeping him here. 

Bucky sighed as he walked back to his flat, opening the door to a rather serene sight. Will was by the kitchen watching the football game while Y/N was laid across the couch, book in hand which he recognised as one of his old ones. Her hair was different, she probably had taken off her wig and for the first time since those few minutes in the costume room. It looked soft, framing her face and getting in front of her eyes as she herself got lost in the room. Will excused himself, leaving just as he noticed Bucky before he could be yelled at by using his television. Yet again, Y/N and Bucky were alone in that small flat. She looked up from the book and at him before returning to read.

He left her with the book, walking to his bedroom which was probably now more hers than his to grab one of trousers and hoodies before returning back to the living room. Still reading. At least she wasn’t trying to break any more windows. He put the hoodie and trousers by her side, turning off the television as more screams for the football match came through. 

   - You can change into those. - he pointed at the clothing, getting her attention as she closed the book. - Those beads can’t be comfortable. 

   - Oh 

   - The bathroom’s there. - he pointed at one of the few doors in the flat. - You can shower too, there’s towels. 

   - Thank you. - she grabbed the things he had put out for her before leaving him in the living room by himself.

And then it was just him once more, alone, tied to this city which screamed everyone’s name but his.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying​ @buckyswillows​ @blossomslibrary​ @juliesland​ @iloveshawnieboi​ @unmagically​ @red-head011​ @poisonous00​ 

[queernuck]

The Cleveland Browns made the playoffs. The Islanders made the Eastern Conference Finals.

And that’s enough for me.

So long, so long I have been living like this, pretending that I want to keep on living, that life feels worthwhile, that I don’t want to kill myself. Suicide is for cowards but ive been chickening out for a whole decade, to the point where getting on the subway was itself something that involved convincing myself not to jump in front of it. I remember once while working in the city, I watched and waited as two trains came in and left, trying to get the energy to jump in front of them. I had decided, if I couldn’t do it by the time a second train came and went, I would go to work and save it for another day. I came very close, my legs tense like a linebacker on 4th & Goal, but I didn’t do it. Maybe it would be better if I had, I would have saved not only myself but a lot of other people a lot of pain and suffering. I’ve been dealing with feeling suicidal for a decade, an entire ten years, and made it through. And for what? I lost a retail job at minimum wage, I’ve seen the Giants go from two-time Super Bowl kingslayers to a team that relied on the Eagles for a playoff berth, I got to see Evangelion only for the final Rebuild film to be infinitely delayed, I have a useless non-degree that allows me to eloquently describe how the Democrats and Republicans alike are driving this stolen land to Fascism while sycophants tell me Vote Blue No Matter Who. I’m so tired, I’m not even the person people think me to be, since if I were, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

My paychecks, as hard-earned as they were, never seemed to be mine in any real sense, and it made me so frustrated that something in me broke at the beginning of this year. I made some mistakes, some very stupid ones, and got myself fired. I took money from and distorted the inventory of my store to get what amounted to pocket money, less than two paychecks. I was tempted because I feel so powerless, so much like nothing I could ever say or do matters, and so I decided to lash out against a place that mattered to me, against people I cared about deeply. Chain stores, corporations, all of those things are not really high on my list of things to care about. Barnes & Noble pushed out local booksellers years ago, an irony not lost on me whenever our own competition with Amazon was made apparent. We were reaping what we had sown. But what always interested on top of this irony was how symbolic these things could be to people, how much we figured into so may memories for so many. The Manga Aisle at Barnes & Noble is a staple of 2006 scene culture, a way that kids without the pocket money to afford the newest volume of Bleach it Naruto could keep up before scams became widely available. How the store was a place where people studying for standardized tests could use the test prep guides to try and get ready for the eugenic ritual of the standardized test. And just how much a chain bookstore became a substitute, socially, for the now-absent local bookstore. We bear the guilt for that, but at the same time we were still selling books, giving people a place to get coffee and sit and read and talk, in ways that libraries may not be able to. We certainly can never replace a library, given just what a library does for people. But we did do a lot of good all the same. Before it closed, some of my fondest memories came when I was the exact sort of annoying teenage customer I grew to hate, hanging out at the Columbus Circle Borders. Working at Barnes & Noble was tiring, dehumanizing, difficult, made me feel like I would never measure up to the authors we sold, the people books were written about, that I was a failure. And I am, as my death shows. But it also made me a part of something I was proud of. And that Above & Beyond pin I earned is in my jacket still, a reminder of something.

That something was shown in so many of the coworkers I had, who were incredible in so many ways. I feel awful for what I did, I genuinely do, because of how it may have hurt people who thought so kindly of me, people who deserve so much good. I wish I had the ability to address each of them individually but this decision was hastily made, and i have a feeling it will show in the things I miss in this note. Audra, your help in finding me a way to use the company policies to my advantage as a worker was something that gave me faith even after having seen the despicable firings and cuts the company went through. Linda, I can’t quite square the circle here given my actions, but I want to say your disappointment broke my heart and that while I will not be the one who shows it, your reassurance that everyone makes mistakes was welcome.

To my (former) fellow booksellers at Store 2216, all of my love and my sincerest apologies. You all have so much good in you, your willingness to listen to my ADHD-fueled rants and to discuss so many things with an incredible frankness was always impressive, in addition to part of what I loved about all of you. I want you all to be happy, and the kinship I felt with you was a vital part of what kept me going. It was tough, as you all know. But at times, it almost felt worth it.

The same is true of my CTY friends: it was a weird, magical place that frankly, a lot of us idealized for far too long and which sk many of us eventually outgrew without being able to let go of. And that was tough, that was something we had a great deal of difficulty understanding, that what helped us once was not always going to be helping us, was not always what we needed. But in eventually finding that, we found solace, we realized how life as a whole functions and just what it is that we can take from places like it.

To my other family, my Cleo family, I know I haven’t been terribly active lately, but I can never, ever thank you enough for the belonging you gave me. I have never felt anywhere as welcoming as Cleo. As warm as Cleo (even as we struggled to pay for the oil bill) was. As kind and understanding. As tolerant. As questioning and inquisitive into what that tolerance meant to us. I am thankful, eternally, for what you all did for me. The incredible experiences I had as a Cleo make me proud of what the organization can represent, and one of my dying wishes is that the organization continues to reach out to marginalized communities on Trinity’s campus. There is much work to be done in making sure abusers cannot hide in our family, but I trust you all to do that work. Tucker Carlson is a Trinity grad and we must embody the opposite of what he stands for, no matter how difficult it may be. I could go on about how this means opposing liberals and Liberalism/Neo—Liberalism due to the truth of tolerance resulting in a Popper-esque Paradox of Tolerance that implies Popper is a worthwhile philosopher, but that’s another issue.

To my friends on that Blue Hellsite, tumblr, you made a continual presence worth it, even with all of the bullshit this place brings. It’s the reason I read so much Foucault, Derrida, Deleuze & Guattari, read Žižek against himself, and so on and so on, and the value of that to me can never be overstated. I learned so much from the ways in which I learned to analyze the world, and that in turn became a huge inspiration for why I should try to do what I could to make the world closer to a place of revolution, one where we could perhaps eke out a living for one another. I loved how much I could be an unrepentant nerd and still love hockey on there, and while the

NHL fans on tumblr are incredibly annoying,

I can deal with that compared to the racism of most hockey fans.

Mom, Dad? I just couldn’t live with you any longer. I’m so sorry.

Grandma, I love you.

And the things I leave behind? Donate what can be donated. Hats, please auction, or at least offer to other HatHeads at a reasonable price. I had some nice ones. As for assorted albums, clothing, and other things, sell them and donate to a Harm Reduction organization, or organizations that advocate for PWUD in a radical fashion. WE DESERVE AUTONOMY!

I am a victim of the War on Drugs. Sobriety was always hellish to me, and I could never take it. I want people to be able to live how they want, to see sobriety and being on drugs as equally valuable states, to see the two as no different from one another.

Abolish all gun laws

End the War on Terror

Decriminalize and legalize all drugs, sobriety is what killed me.

I love all of you.

LET’S GO ISLANDERS!

[entitynumber5]

omg Hannah!! if you feel so inclined, maybe "things you said when you were crying" for jonmartin? no pressure tho ily

aaaahhh thank you so much for this prompt, friend!!!!! i’m sorry it’s been a while!!! i really hope you like this!!!! ily <3

Content warnings: illness (they both have the flu), depressive episode (mentioned), Martin’s mother (mentioned), the Lonely, disassociation, swearing, compulsive behaviour, self-depreciation. 

things you said when you were crying

Perhaps it’s testament to how wonderfully mundane their lives have become, that Jon’s first thought when he wakes is: Martin’s doing the god damn laundry. 

It’s not an unreasonable assumption. Martin had spent the annual leave he’d taken to align with Jon’s reading week nursing Jon through a nasty bout of flu. During the three worst days, when Jon was barely conscious, he hadn’t seen Martin sleep or eat or leave their bedroom except to linger by the landline—a sign perhaps that Martin had caught what Jon had earlier than he’d let on, since they rarely used the relic—and debate calling the out of hours service. Jon had just about weathered the worst of it when Martin was properly struck down, requiring another week and a half and counting off work. Of course, that didn’t stop Martin’s restlessness even as the flu drained everything from him. He would lie on their bed, pale and panting, barely awake, bordering delirious—and still mumble to Jon that he’d do the laundry in a minute, don’t worry, I’ll get it done soon, I’m sorry it’s such a mess, I’m sorry. 

So Jon doesn’t mean to be angry, when he wakes up to an empty bed after an evening of Martin’s temperature finally staying below 38. It’s not even Martin he’s angry at, not truly.

Perhaps their lives aren’t mundane after all. Is it mundane not to be able to leave an overflowing laundry basket eleven days into the flu? Jon doesn’t know, or Know, but he has two theories: 1) Martin’s mother, the spectre to his half-formed anger. And 2) the state he recalls finding Martin’s flat in after leaving the Lonely, but before they’d set off for Scotland, and how neither of them had said it but Jon recognised well enough what a depressive episode looked like.

Jon reaches for his cane, folded and ready against the bedside table, and gently leverages himself up so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. The change in elevation makes him dizzy, and he lets the cane ground him, digging into the carpet between his feet, as he breathes. It’s been nearly a week since he’s had a fever, but the flu has caused a flare-up of his pain and fatigue. His department are letting him teach remotely through the rest of November. Martin’s boss had been sympathetic too, when Jon phoned in for him, although there’s not much a paramedic can do from afar and Martin is insistent he’ll be back by the end of the week. In four days. Jon rolls his eyes pre-emptively at the conversations he knows he will have with Martin about who had it “worse”, as if it matters. 

After the static has cleared from his vision—always an uncomfortable comparison, and he shoves down the panic that bubbles inside of him at the thought, because Martin needs him—Jon stands. He goes through the same process, leaning on his cane, breathing, waiting, until he feels steady enough to make his way into the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” Jon asks from the kitchen doorway, unable to keep the disapproval from his voice, when he finds Martin crouched in front of the washing machine.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Martin shoots back. The sarcasm of his reply is lessened significantly by how out of breath he sounds, and the way he’s clinging to the countertop above the washing machine with one hand while the other is splayed against the tiled floor like a shaky tripod—a pose that hints at an attempt to stand, aborted halfway through.

Jon sighs, biting back an unkind retort: exactly the opposite of what you should be doing. He allows himself to think it without trying to push it away in sudden, desperate shame, like he’s been practicing with his therapist, until it no longer sits so bitterly on his tongue. 

“Come back to bed, Martin,” Jon murmurs, “Please.” 

Martin sighs too. It sounds stuffy, almost crackling with the way the flu still clings to his lungs and throat. “I—I’m not sure that I... can.”

Jon opens his mouth to speak, but Martin interrupts: “I know, I know, I shouldn’t be—and my fever’s probably up again and—and I—”

“Martin,” Jon cuts in, as gently as he can. 

“Fine. Fine. This can wait to go out on the—” Still breathless, still barrelling through his justifications, Martin uses the hand on the countertop to pull himself upwards.

It goes terribly. Jon isn’t sure what forces are at work—gravity, exhaustion, pure bad luck, all of the above—but Martin is barely up for a moment before his legs fold, and he’s down again. Jon can’t move fast enough to stop Martin corkscrewing in an odd, 180-degree motion so that he all but ducks beneath his own arm, twisting it in his socket in an attempt to continue clinging to the counter, and knocks his spine against the harsh, circular face of the washing machine with a resounding thud.

“Fuck. Ow,” Martin groans, his voice slurring slightly, “Tha’s embarrassing.”

Jon tries to follow Martin, to kneel beside him on the tiles, but Martin snaps: “No! No, Jon, p-please don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Jon hovers, one hand fluttering uselessly near Martin’s hair while he clings to his cane with the other. Martin breathes, and breathes, and breathes—the sound heavy and laboured in a way that breaks Jon’s heart. It takes some time for him to steady himself, and then lean almost imperceptibly towards Jon. Jon lets his fingers brush through Martin’s hair, not caring, in the moment, that neither of them had showered for what feels like weeks. When the knuckle of his forefinger brushes across Martin’s temple, down his cheek, Jon feels the heat sitting on his skin again, the climbing fever.

“Oh, Martin,” Jon murmurs. 

“I hate this,” Martin says, his voice quiet and sharp and bitter.

“I know,” Jon soothes, brushing his knuckle once again over Martin’s flushed cheek. “I know.”

Martin closes his eyes and leans his head again Jon’s knee. It’s the sort of exhausted display of love and trust that Martin rarely allows himself, unless he’s feeling truly unwell. Jon places his hand on the crown of Martin’s head and leans on his cane and waits for Martin to be ready once again to talk or rest. 

Until very quietly, Martin begins to cry. 

“Oh,” Jon murmurs, almost to himself. 

Martin’s breath trembles, in what Jon knows is an attempt to hold back the tears, to pretend it’s nothing. He hides his face from Jon when he cries, even now, after all this time. A long-learned shame that always finds its way back into their house, no matter how many times they’ve turned it out and barricaded the doors. 

“Martin,” Jon says, quiet but firm, “Please come back to bed.”

There is a long, breath-held moment when Jon thinks Martin is going to refuse, to insist. So painfully stubborn, his husband. Jon braces himself for it. But Martin just nods ever so slightly against the soft plaid fabric of Jon’s pyjama bottoms.

It takes some time, and a great deal of false starts, to get Martin back on his feet. He’s wearing fluffy socks—Jon remembers putting them on for him, when he’d been shivering even in his sleep—that slide on the kitchen tiles, and Jon’s fighting against his own dizziness, which comes and goes in waves when he changes position, to lend Martin purchase. At last, they’re both standing. And although it likely doesn’t help much, Martin lets Jon slide his arm around Martin’s back as he guides them towards the bedroom. 

The bedside lamp is on its dullest setting on account of Martin’s persistent illness, and there are blankets and tissues and medicines thrown at random intervals around the room. Jon leads Martin towards the bed, not letting him stop to correct the mess, to try and restore some order to it. If this is how their lives have to be for the next few days—or weeks—so be it. Jon won’t sacrifice Martin’s recovery for this.

“Sit down,” Jon tells Martin, right before Martin gracelessly throws himself onto the edge of the mattress, listing towards the—thankfully padded—headrest.

Martin is still crying, but in that slow, distant way that makes something deep in Jon ache. It’s almost like the tears don’t belong to Martin. Like he is crying them on behalf of someone else. He stares across the room, half sprawled on the bed with his socked feet languid against the carpet, as the tears fall uninhibited down his face.

Carefully, Jon leans down just enough to pick up Martin’s legs, one at a time, and lift them onto the bed. He’s out of breath by the time he’s managed to get Martin lying down fully, still leaning against the headboard and staring vaguely at the wall opposite the bed. There is a picture hanging there, of them both outside the courthouse where they’d gotten married, but Martin seems to be staring through it.

“I’ll be right back,” Jon promises. He doesn’t know if he’s reassured or terrified that Martin simply lets him leave, barely reacting beyond the briefest twitch of an expression.

In the bathroom, Jon fills up a pint glass of water and wets a soft green flannel beneath the tap. He takes a moment to breathe, to drink some water as well, to swallow some ibuprofen for his aching joints, before he carries his small gifts back into the bedroom.

Martin is exactly where Jon left him. Jon sits next to him on the bed, and when Jon hands him the large glass of water, Matin takes it instinctively. But he doesn’t drink from it, holding it in his hands as if it is yet another thing that doesn’t belong to him, that he will carry unflinchingly for the time being—like the tears. Like the pain.

“Please drink the water, love,” Jon says. He touches one of his hands to Martin’s, where he’s holding the glass, and Martin’s eyes flicker briefly to his. Jon nods in encouragement.

With trembling hands, both closed around the large glass, Martin lifts the water to his lips and drinks. He doesn’t manage much—a few sips before his mouth tightens with nausea, and he has to lower the glass and breathe. But it’s a start.

“That’s good, Martin,” Jon soothes, as he takes the glass from Martin’s hands and places it on their bedside table. “Do you want to lie down?”

“Jon,” Martin tries to say.

“Shh. It’s alright. Lie down, just like that, that’s it.”

Martin reclines against the pillow, restlessness warring against exhaustion, until he looks almost settled. Jon tugs the blanket from the end of the bed and covers Martin with it, smoothing down the edges with extra care. Martin watches him, turned slightly on his side so he can look up at where Jon is still half-sitting against the headboard.

“I hate this,” Martin chokes, and blinks fresh tears down his cheeks. “I feel like—like everything is wrong.”

“In what way?” Jon asks gently, keeping his eyes on Martin as he reaches for the wet flannel sitting on the bedside table next to the three-quarters full glass of water.

Martin closes his eyes. “I’m so—I’m so tired, Jon.”

Jon lowers the flannel to Martin’s face, wiping first beneath his eyes, where some of the tears have collected and soaked into the begging of his laughter lines. “I know.”

Martin’s face crumples with something like grief. “That’s just it, though. This is—it’s nothing. Nothing compared to—to what you... And I’m just—making more of it than it needs.”

“Martin.”

“This isn’t—before, with Mum, I’d just—I’d keep going because—”

Martin frowns, sentence finishing abruptly. Jon pushes down the urge to correct, to intervene, and instead, with every ounce of patience and love he feels for Martin in this moment, continues to draw the flannel over the planes of his warm, weary face.

“I can’t stop,” Martin whispers at last, opening his eyes. “If I stop, then I’ll—I won’t ever start again. Like with the—the Lonely. Every time you reached out, I knew if I just stopped even for a moment, I wouldn’t be able to go back, and it would all fall apart. I’m not meant to stop. I can’t. I’m not resilient or, or the kind of person who can get knocked down and get back up again. It’s just—it’s keep going or...”

Jon drags the flannel along Martin’s jaw, down his throat, wiping away the remaining tears where they mingle with fever sweat. He focuses entirely on his task, a perfect excuse to carefully consider his next words. A separate part of his mind is processing that his theories had been right, in some way, and how he aches for Martin—the predictability of it doesn’t ease the pain. But Martin needs something other than that right now.

“Martin.” Jon starts, of course, at the beginning of all things. With love. With a reason. “There are moments in life when sometimes we need to stop. Think about it like... like an orchestra. In an orchestra, there are times where an instrument, or even an entire segment, will be given a break within the music or by the conductor—because it’s needed and it’s necessary. The performance is better for it. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Martin blinks up at Jon, slow and exhausted but comprehending. Jon continues his task, wiping the cloth across Martin’s forehead now.

“You are the most resilient person I know, Martin. I would be lying to you—and I think you know that—if I said I’d never seen you get knocked down. But I have watched you get back up again and again and again,” Jon continues. “If this time, it takes a little longer—if this time, you’re not sure when you can begin again—that’s alright. You deserve rest. You have nothing to prove, except perhaps that you can stop—or pause, if it’s easier to think of it that way—and the world won’t collapse around you.” Jon removes the flannel from Martin’s forehead and replaces it with a gentle kiss. “I won’t let it.” 

Jon lets his lips linger before he lowers his head onto the pillows to face Martin. Martin is still crying, eyes bright with tears and fever both, but there’s something less dejected in his expression. Something less lost.

“I’m sorry,” Martin whispers, “For the crying, and—”

“There’s nothing to apologise for.”

“Not even the laundry?” Martin’s voice is so small, still trembling with tears. But there’s the briefest glimpse of a smile at the corner of his chapped lips.

“Not even the laundry,” Jon agrees, although he puts on a begrudging front.

Martin closes his eyes and leans forward, so that his and Jon’s foreheads are touching in the small gap between their two pillows. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“And I—I want to believe you.”

Jon feels himself smile, and he hopes Martin knows it is all for him. “Thank you.”

Jon knows they will talk about this again. He knows this will be something understood and folded into the fabric of their lives slowly, piece by painful piece. But for now, as he watches Martin’s tears slowly ease, replaced eventually by sleep, and as Jon himself begins to follow, he thinks at the threshold of his dreams that next time might be just a little bit easier. A little bit kinder. And that is always enough.

[l-wannabe-l]

Short Circuit

Chapter 5: New Avenues

Austin gets some distressing news, and a new enemy enters the ring.

Mostly a chapter of these two growing closer. Plus some plot I guess.

The roads thinned out the longer I drove. The Connor’s remained quiet for the most part, Sarah Connor the only one to speak giving me directions to avoid crowded roads. I didn’t need them, and the urge to take actions against her for daring to order me about is strong, but my mission and side objective are too important to risk aggravating the matriarch. She finally stops after one final order to pull into an abandoned garage next to a gas station. The T-800 leaves to open the garage door, the simple lock it has breaks under the sheer strength of the T-800 model. As soon as the car is parked the others climb out. Sarah quickly herds her children as far away from me as the small space will allow. I grant them their ill perceived safety as I walk along the wall on the opposite side. I stop near a door as I receive a message. A message sent by Skynet and received across time and space.

“Mission Failure”

My sudden inaction goes unnoticed by the eldest and youngest Connor but not by Aria.

“Austin, what’s wrong?” A certain lilt to her voice indicative of concern, similar to when she spoke to John and her mother. A concern more likely directed towards them, given the glimmer of fear still present in her eyes when she looks at me.

“Skynet has deemed me defective, my mission has been labeled a failure.” I respond, my voice ringing hollow even to me.

“You said you abandoned your mission. Why are you surprised?” She asks but her calm demeanor indicates she isn’t as surprised as her words make her out to be.

“I lied.” A strange feeling changes my tone without my say. A grave itching sensation as if something is trying to claw its way out from inside me. My teeth grind against themselves.

"So you were still planning to kill me." This time Johns is the one to speak.

"Of course I was!" I don’t have the patience to pretend anymore. Processing the news, and this new feeling takes precedence over keeping up the facade. I turn and walk out the door. Silence will be more beneficial to me than answering any banal questions they might have. The sound of the door opening again alerts me to Aria's presence, I see her just out of my periphery. The light from the gas station showing off the shine in her dark brown hair. She pulls her cardigan closed across her bare midriff. The night had dropped several degrees, she must be feeling the chill that resulted from it.

“You ok?” She asks. I understand this question to be a very common nicety among humans. Oftentimes an honest answer is not at all what the asker desires.

“I’m still in functioning form.”

“That’s… good but not what I meant,” She says, coming to sit next to me on the bench pulling up her legs to hold them close to her, “I mean what are you going to do now that you don’t have a mission anymore?”

“I still have one objective.”

“You do?!”

“I still haven’t been loved by you.” I tell her. She flinches back when I turn to look at her head.

“You were serious about the whole love thing?!”

“I was, still am.” Now without Skynet, the only purpose left to me is the one I assigned myself, “I don’t have any purpose otherwise. I was never meant to return to my time, Skynet would have no need for me anyway.” I tell her bluntly, that fact seems to change that clawing to a weighty bulk. My form sinking under it involuntarily. Aria lets go of herself, letting her feet hit the ground. She leans forward to meet my eyes, a smile just barely on her lips.

“Join the club. Looking for purpose is something every human struggles with.” She says as she stretches her arms upward. Her cardigan falls open to reveal a glimpse of a leather harness carrying a small sidearm. So that's where she got that gun.

“But I am not human.”

“No, but it looks like you’re going to have to learn.” She says as she stands. Most likely intent on rejoining her family but stops as she looks back at me. She lifts her hand, reaching out before pausing.

“Can I?” she asks. I nod. After all, there’s nothing she can do to harm me so what... oh. 

Oh

Slim fingers card through my hair, or what substituted for it. I register the warmth of her palm and the texture of her hand as she musses up the styling before working to smooth it back.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh right, sorry,” She removes her hand removing the warmth but leaving behind another new “feeling” to deal with, “Your second lesson, some people show affection through physical contact. The why and how depends on the situation and the type of relationship. I was... trying to comfort you.”

“Is it always like this, these signs of physical affection?”

“Not exactly, It’s usually only done when people are close to each other.” I stand to be more eye level with her, despite the obvious height difference. As I do I take note of the slim distance between us and her reaction, the dilated pupils that show off more of the forest hue of her eyes, and a slight hitch in her breathing.

“I want to be closer to you.” Her eyes widen at my words, a rosy dusting settles across her cheeks, curious, “How close are you to John?” Aria lets out a breath, body seemingly deflating at my question.

“Oh right, you want to be closer to me like John, my brother.” She remarks seemingly talking more to herself than to me. “I don’t know if there is a clear answer to that other than the fact that he’s my brother. Let’s just head back inside. We can figure the rest out later, Ok?” She looks at me one more time before turning away. I realize that her eyes didn’t show any fear or trepidation when she did. I follow after her back into the garage. When I enter I see the T-800 sitting in front of a mirror fixing up what looks to be a gash wound on his head. Carefully arranging his hair and tissue to conceal it. Sarah Connor stands between him and John who’s busy fiddling with a radio that was obviously taken from the police car.

“What did we miss?” Aria asked after taking in the sight.

“Mom and I cracked open his head,” John answered distractedly. Pointing vaguely in the T-800’s direction, “We reprogrammed him so now he can learn to be less weird.” They must have switched him from ‘Read Only’ to ‘Write’. Aria looks like she’s going to speak but is cut off by her mother who pulls her away to speak privately. It won’t do any good considering my sensors work at a higher capacity than a human’s so I take a seat on a nearby metal chair to listen in.

“Aria, I know I went along with this back at the hospital but if I understand correctly that thing was using a false truce to try and kill John later on?”

“That’s about it. He apparently played his part so well Skynet basically abandoned him because of it.”

“...It just admitted to planning to kill us.”

“Yes but he isn’t gonna now though, and isn’t that good news,” She said, but a tremble in her voice makes the statement sound more like a question. By the silence that follows Sarah Connor obviously doesn’t believe it. Aria lets out a tired sigh, “Mom, you didn’t see him out there, he just looked so... lost,” The admission has me looking over at them just in time to lock eyes with Aria before she quickly turns back to Sarah who isn’t convinced.

“That is still a Terminator.”

“All the more reason to have him here where we can keep tabs on him rather than out there doing who knows what.”

“Having both of those things around is just putting John in danger!”

“He’ll be in danger anyway. Skynet will try again and Austin has the most up to date information. If we turn him away we'll be exposing ourselves to dangerous surprises.” Sarah seems to concede, walking away to retake her place next to John. Who managed to get the radio working. The blank static from the police radio gives way to voices talking quickly about vandalism, murder, theft, more murder, and the missing status of a young girl. Kathrine Brewster.

Across town in the shopping district. A boutique window begins to light up, not by the electrical lights installed but by the streaks of lighting emanating from a silver sphere growing and heating up before bursting and disappearing in a blinding flash. A slim feminine figure is left behind crouching amongst the mannequins. The woman takes a moment to scan her new surroundings before looking at them. She doesn’t find what she’s looking for, the clothing they wear burned beyond repair and recognition. No way to make accurate replications. So she takes to the streets walking along the sidewalk, her long blond hair the only modicum of decency but she continues unbothered. A beep catches her attention; the sound comes from a car being unlocked. The woman who owns it walks quickly unaware of the newcomer or their intentions until she spots them after getting into her car. The woman’s nudity caught her by surprise. 

“Omg,” She whispers to herself in disbelief before the concern sets in, “Are you ok!?” She calls out in an attempt to help but receives no response from the approaching naked woman who is currently scanning her vehicle. While outdated to the mechanical being, it is rather high-end for the time. A good choice of transportation.

“Do you want me to call 911?” The woman tries again, thinking the poor girl in a state of shock or something of the like. The blonde finally faces her, giving a soft smile that doesn't reach her eyes and reaches forward to touch the clothing near her neckline. Fingers splayed and placed methodically to sample each type of fabric.

“I like this car.”

“What?” The woman asks, confused. Her last words before the Terminator quickly swipes her hand away, efficiently slicing her neck. She easily lifts the woman out of the car and drops her onto the pavement. Leaving her there to bleed out. Clothing reminiscent of the dying woman's begin to take shape on her naked form. Detailed down to the hair bun. She lets herself into the car before starting it up and driving off. She helps herself to the woman’s purse pulling out a cell phone, a quick disassembly gives access to the inner workings and the service it’s connected to. Liquid metal seeps into the SD card allowing her to search the database for names, faces and addresses. A list quickly forms of future enemies of Skynet, of people she is tasked to terminate. She charts a course for the nearest address. The Brewster residence.

[whitehotharlots]

The point is control

Whenever we think or talk about censorship, we usually conceptualize it as certain types of speech being somehow disallowed: maybe (rarely) it's made formally illegal by the government, maybe it's banned in certain venues, maybe the FCC will fine you if you broadcast it, maybe your boss will fire you if she learns of it, maybe your friends will stop talking to you if they see what you've written, etc. etc. 

This understanding engenders a lot of mostly worthless discussion precisely because it's so broad. Pedants--usually arguing in favor of banning a certain work or idea--will often argue that speech protections only apply to direct, government bans. These bans, when they exist, are fairly narrow and apply only to those rare speech acts in which other people are put in danger by speech (yelling the N-word in a crowded theater, for example). This pedantry isn't correct even within its own terms, however, because plenty of people get in trouble for making threats. The FBI has an entire entrapment program dedicated to getting mentally ill muslims and rednecks to post stuff like "Death 2 the Super bowl!!" on twitter, arresting them, and the doing a press conference about how they heroically saved the world from terrorism. 

Another, more recent pedant's trend is claiming that, actually, you do have freedom of speech; you just don't have freedom from the consequences of speech. This logic is eerily dictatorial and ignores the entire purpose of speech protections. Like, even in the history's most repressive regimes, people still technically had freedom of speech but not from consequences. Those leftist kids who the nazis beheaded for speaking out against the war were, by this logic, merely being held accountable. 

The two conceptualizations of censorship I described above are, 99% of the time, deployed by people who are arguing in favor of a certain act of censorship but trying to exempt themselves from the moral implications of doing so. Censorship is rad when they get to do it, but they realize such a solipsism seems kinda icky so they need to explain how, actually, they're not censoring anybody, what they're doing is an act of righteous silencing that's a totally different matter. Maybe they associate censorship with groups they don't like, such as nazis or religious zealots. Maybe they have a vague dedication toward Enlightenment principles and don't want to be regarded as incurious dullards. Most typically, they're just afraid of the axe slicing both ways, and they want to make sure that the precedent they're establishing for others will not be applied to themselves.

Anyone who engages with this honestly for more than a few minutes will realize that censorship is much more complicated, especially in regards to its informal and social dimensions. We can all agree that society simply would not function if everyone said whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You might think your boss is a moron or your wife's dress doesn't look flattering, but you realize that such tidbits are probably best kept to yourself. 

Again, this is a two-way proposition that everyone is seeking to balance. Do you really want people to verbalize every time they dislike or disagree with you? I sure as hell don't. And so, as part of a social compact, we learn to self-censor. Sometimes this is to the detriment of ourselves and our communities. Most often, however, it's just a price we have to pay in order to keep things from collapsing. 

But as systems, large and small, grow increasingly more insane and untenable, so do the comportment standards of speech. The disconnect between America's reality and the image Americans have of themselves has never been more plainly obvious, and so striving for situational equanimity is no longer good enough. We can't just pretend cops aren't racist and the economy isn't run by venal retards or that the government places any value on the life of its citizens. There's too much evidence that contradicts all that, and the evidence is too omnipresent. There's too many damn internet videos, and only so many of them can be cast as Russian disinformation. So, sadly, we must abandon our old ways of communicating and embrace instead systems that are even more unstable, repressive, and insane than the ones that were previously in place.

Until very, very recently, nuance and big-picture, balanced thinking were considered signs of seriousness, if not intelligence. Such considerations were always exploited by shitheads to obfuscate things that otherwise would have seemed much less ambiguous, yes, but this fact alone does not mitigate the potential value of such an approach to understanding the world--especially since the stuff that's been offered up to replace it is, by every worthwhile metric, even worse.

So let's not pretend I'm Malcolm Gladwell or some similarly slimy asshole seeking to "both sides" a clearcut moral issue. Let's pretend I am me. Flash back to about a year ago, when there was real, widespread, and sustained support for police reform. Remember that? Seems like forever ago, man, but it was just last year... anyhow, now, remember what happened? Direct, issues-focused attempts to reform policing were knocked down. Blotted out. Instead, we were told two things: 1) we had to repeat the slogan ABOLISH THE POLICE, and 2) we had to say it was actually very good and beautiful and nonviolent and valid when rioters burned down poor neighborhoods.

Now, in a relatively healthy discourse, it might have been possible for someone to say something like "while I agree that American policing is heavily violent and racist and requires substantial reforms, I worry that taking such an absolutist point of demanding abolition and cheering on the destruction of city blocks will be a political non-starter." This statement would have been, in retrospect, 100000000% correct. But could you have said it, in any worthwhile manner? If you had said something along those lines, what would the fallout had been? Would you have lost friends? Your job? Would you have suffered something more minor, like getting yelled at, told your opinion did not matter? Would your acquaintances still now--a year later, after their political project has failed beyond all dispute--would they still defame you in "whisper networks," never quite articulating your verbal sins but nonetheless informing others that you are a dangerous and bad person because one time you tried to tell them how utterly fucking self-destructive they were being? It is undeniably clear that last year's most-elevated voices were demanding not reform but catharsis. I hope they really had fun watching those immigrant-owned bodegas burn down, because that’s it, that will forever be remembered as the most palpable and consequential aspect of their shitty, selfish movement. We ain't reforming shit. Instead, we gave everyone who's already in power a blank check to fortify that power to a degree you and I cannot fully fathom.

But, oh, these people knew what they were doing. They were good little boys and girls. They have been rewarded with near-total control of the national discourse, and they are all either too guilt-ridden or too stupid to realize how badly they played into the hands of the structures they were supposedly trying to upend.

And so left-liberalism is now controlled by people whose worldview is equal parts superficial and incoherent. This was the only possible outcome that would have let the system continue to sustain itself in light of such immense evidence of its unsustainability without resulting in reform, so that's what has happened.

But... okay, let's take a step back. Let's focus on what I wanted to talk about when I started this.

I came across a post today from a young man who claimed that his high school English department head had been removed from his position and had his tenure revoked for refusing to remove three books from classrooms. This was, of course, fallout from the ongoing debate about Critical Race Theory. Two of those books were Marjane Satropi's Persepolis and, oh boy, The Diary of Anne Frank. Fuck. Jesus christ, fuck.

Now, here's the thing... When Persepolis was named, I assumed the bannors were anti-CRT. The graphic novel does not deal with racism all that much, at least not as its discussed contemporarily, but it centers an Iranian girl protagonist and maybe that upset Republican types. But Anne Frank? I'm sorry, but the most likely censors there are liberal identiarians who believe that teaching her diary amounts to centering the suffering of a white woman instead of talking about the One Real Racism, which must always be understood in an American context. The super woke cult group Black Hammer made waves recently with their #FuckAnneFrank campaign... you'd be hard pressed to find anyone associated with the GOP taking a firm stance against the diary since, oh, about 1975 or so.

So which side was it? That doesn't matter. What matters is, I cannot find out.

Now, pro-CRT people always accuse anti-CRT people of not knowing what CRT is, and then after making such accusations they always define CRT in a way that absolutely is not what CRT is. Pro-CRTers default to "they don't want  students to read about slavery or racism." This is absolutely not true, and absolutely not what actual CRT concerns itself with. Slavery and racism have been mainstays of American history curriucla since before I was born. Even people who barely paid attention in school would admit this, if there were any more desire for honesty in our discourse. 

My high school history teacher was a southern "lost causer" who took the south's side in the Civil War but nonetheless provided us with the most descriptive and unapologetic understandings of slavery's brutalities I had heard up until that point. He also unambiguously referred to the nuclear attacks on Hiroshmia and Nagasaki as "genocidal." Why? Because most people's politics are idiosyncratic, and because you cannot genuinely infer a person to believe one thing based on their opinion of another, tangentially related thing. The totality of human understanding used to be something open-minded people prided themselves on being aware of, believe it or not...

This is the problem with CRT. This is is the motivation behind the majority of people who wish to ban it. It’s not because they are necessarily racist themselves. It’s because they recognize, correctly, that the now-ascendant frames for understanding social issues boils everything down to a superficial patina that denies not only the realities of the systems they seek to upend but the very humanity of the people who exist within them. There is no humanity without depth and nuance and complexities and contradictions. When you argue otherwise, people will get mad and fight back. 

And this is the most bitter irony of this idiotic debate: it was never about not wanting to teach the sinful or embarrassing parts of our history. That was a different debate, one that was settled and won long ago. It is instead an immense, embarrassing overreach on behalf of people who have bullied their way to complete dominance of their spheres of influence within media and academe assuming they could do the same to everyone else. Some of its purveyors may have convinced themselves that getting students to admit complicity in privilege will prevent police shootings, sure. But I know these people. I’ve spoken to them at length. I’ve read their work. The vast, vast majority of them aren’t that stupid. The point is to exert control. The point is to make sure they stay in charge and that nothing changes. The point is failure. 

[blankd]

Thoughts on The Mitchells vs the Machines

I watched it a while ago and kept forgetting to post my thoughts on it, but some posts here on tumblr recently reminded me.

I disagree with the majority takeaways I see but is that not the spice of life?

As a standalone movie its inoffensive and the writing of it will likely exit my brain in a few months.  However I can appreciate that the visual style was different from the typical fare and the mixture of 2d elements for visual embellishments were mostly enjoyable and well-suited for Katie as the POV character.

It's a bit "hyper" for my liking, but that's fine, it's likely intended for an audience that's accustomed to the flood that is the current norm of the internet.  It was probably made with GIFable moments in mind and that is the most frequent content that is shared about it, so it certainly succeeded in that regard.

My more critical take is that jokes are delivered at the expense of what could be more authentic themes.  Quips are made that draw attention to character flaws or undercut questions the movie should try to answer, but inevitably they are ignored to move onto the next joke or story beat.

The rest would fall more into spoiler territory, so read more for that.

--"They Were Both In the Wrong"

I personally disagree heavily with the thrust of how "both sides" were wrong when the degrees are disproportionate.

I've seen claims that Katie was "as in the wrong" as her father, but she's incredibly patient to the man who does her material harm.

I've yet to have seen someone say specifically what Katie did *wrong* to her father that is at all on par with the *years* he at best hasn't been able to interact with her or worse, actively refused to engage with her interests.

I would generously venture that her flaw was that she was more willing to communicate her feelings to strangers, but she easily talks to her mother and brother- her brother even helps her with her movies and she happily engages him with his own interests, which pivots the point back to how her father is physically/emotionally unavailable and led to the erosion and distance between the two of them.

Due to this, MvM comes across more as Kaite having to do so much more to guide her father rather than a more mutual learning experience for the both of them.

--"Technology that [Dis]Connects"

It's probably beyond the scope and intent of the film, but I was surprised there was no examination about why technology can be more alluring than interacting with physically present people.

For better or worse, the internet can be used as a means of supplementing the validation and acceptance of family.  It can also lead to no longer connecting to people around them because of the validation high of appealing to a constantly 'awake' sea of strangers- the spotlight is warmer than the cold reality that they are not the internet image they have cultivated.

For example, the rival 'perfect' family was never revealed to be a carefully constructed highlight reel that Mrs. Mitchell envies, they really were actually that perfect- because that provides an easier punchline than an examination or acknowledgement of how the internet can create unhealthy expectations.

I also can't expect MvM to acknowledge the reality that LGBTA+ people who are rejected by their family resort to seeking a new one through the internet because it would be much harder to redeem/rehabilitate a man defined by being tethered to "old values" if he was homophobic instead of "overprotective" and apprehensive at his daughter's departure from home and her dubious art career.

But hey we got that quick line at the end that Katie likes a girl, so that's a diversity win or something.

(To be clear I'm not expecting a whole parade or even an A or B-plot dedicated to it, but I think it should be acknowledged that this kind of "surprise inclusion" is very easily erased with a change of audio and would be completely unsurprised if this were the case for countries that are homophobic.  People can be happy about it, but it is dishonest to pretend that this is a bolder statement than it is.)

In that sense, I do and don't hold MvM to taking a "safer" route about how family always has your back, but this still feels like an important omission considering the focus on technology and its dynamic with the Mitchells.

I will also say that it was also bizarre, to me at least, that the obvious route that her father sees the value of home videos didn't become an active point between him and Katie.  Or that Mr. Mitchell's carpentry never really amounts to anything despite having a sentimental wooden moose.

Lastly, I think it's an unintentional, but it's interesting that Katie going to college to pursue her passion is viewed as a Terrible Thing by her father even though if he had his way, he'd be ostensibly living in the woods away from everyone else except his wife.

This isn't a problem, people are a collection of contradictions, but It's fascinating to see what the *narrative* treats as a difficult sacrifice while simultaneously pulling at heartstrings when PAL cites how children ignore their mothers.  There's an unexamined comedy that Mr. Mitchell's losing out on his 'passion' to live in the woods away from people is treated as tragic despite the movie's insistence on staying connected with your blood family.

--"The Inconsistent Personhood of AI"

PAL is rightfully angry at being discarded for something new; it's provided as a glimpse of what Katie will do when she finds 'her people' at college.

This in of itself is a good hook, because there is no one universal answer to when a flawed relationship should be mended with compromise or if it's better off being broken for the wellbeing of the ones involved.  Family and relationships are not programming, it's a choice and a gamble for whatever it brings but is nonetheless something that must be mutually worked upon.

Initially I thought that PAL was being set up as an exaggerated parallel to Mr. Mitchell.  PAL and Mr. Mitchell did their best to provide for their family.  PAL and Mr. Mitchell are in different stages of being 'discarded' by their family.  PAL and Mr. Mitchell both retaliate at their lack of power in the scenario by using the power granted by their roles to infringe on the autonomy of others for selfish reasons.

PAL even gives a 'chance' for her plan to be halted with, I had assumed this was being set up as the thesis of the movie, about humanity and the value of family, relationships, etc. being used to help someone who is already hurting.

But despite Katie looking at the camera and explaining herself, it is never actually directly resolved or challenged because a punchline was deemed more desirable for this narrative climax.

This begs the question of why PAL bothered with the pretense that she could be reasoned with, especially since this is not some question leveled at all of humanity, just two people.

I'm curious how the writers came to the conclusion that this was the best execution of the scene or if Katie's speech was considered immune to any challenge from PAL.  Would anyone have accepted this outcome if PAL were not an AI but instead a person?

It's not necessarily bad writing they went this route, but I doubt anyone would consider this good writing either.

By the end of the movie, PAL is no longer a 'person' who was betrayed and is lashing out, she is an object to be destroyed because the movie has to wrap up.  No compassion or chances are spared to this AI that did literally everything asked of her except take being discarded quietly.

Did PAL deserve a redemption arc? For this length of movie, probably not.  But it could have concluded with a commitment to doing no further harm.  Instead it is an accidental glimpse at how easily the pretense of compassion can be quickly discarded and mostly unexamined with the right framing.

A likely unintentional example is the conditional humanity given to Eric and Deborahbot who are adopted as "family" while the rest of the robots are mowed down without another thought.  Some are even beaten and broken while begging for mercy, because again, it is a funnier punchline.

Far be it for me to advocate that the murderbots needed 'a second chance uvu' but for a movie whose conceit rests on 'sticking by family' and 'giving chances', the writers certainly made a choice in deciding which AI get honorary humanity and spared violent death- perhaps PAL had a point about humanity's callousness after all.  Bad robots are discarded, good robots get to live.

Even the CEO who realizes he enabled this mess (easily the most unrealistic part of the movie, honestly) is given another chance and he manages to take away a completely wrong lesson.

Speaking of-

--"Maybe I Shouldn’t Have Used Tech Like This"

There's a particular image/gif set posted about MvM with the CEO apologizing for the machine uprising, attributing it to unchecked technology and monopolies.  I've always seen it accompanied by people congratulating the scene as if any of this is at all relevant to the movie.

Charitably, these are people who haven't watched the movie and don't know that PAL is a phone AI single-handedly doing this, but most take the stance that this scene is proof the movie is not saying technology is bad, only corporations are.

The speech isn't technically wrong but it is so utterly divorced from what happens in the movie that it's surreal to see people congratulate it as anything but a moment of soapboxing.

None of the datagrabbing was used at all as part of the takeover.  It's all magical kid-friendly terminators with no relevance to what anyone's browsing history is.  If the company was one that produced robot assistants instead of a being a super tech monopoly, there would be no narrative difference.

The closest to a predatory tactic that is used in MvM is the offer of free wifi which is used to lure most people into their cells which they happily comply with. Curiously this... commentary of people’s mindless addiction to technology is not acknowledged by the Tumblr Court with the same intensity as the CEO’s speech.

But more constructively, I do feel it’s a missed opportunity that Katie who's supposed to be an extremely online person apparently never said any bad things about her family or made any petty vent films for PAL to weaponize.  Instead an in-media audio at one of the outskirt locations was used to accomplish its Traitor Revealed moment.

IN CONCLUSION

MvM is a movie that involves topics that ought to be touched on and explored properly in media and chickens out on all of it due to possible concerns with age-appropriate handling or because it was more committed to its comedy than whatever it has to say about family, change and how technology affects people.

It also reminded me that I hope media will finally graduate from the trope that if you spec into any ‘outdoorsy’ hobby you are incurably afraid of technology.

[thetvmoviefan]

Nabrina Fanfics Part 11 (Winter Solstice Update)

Sabrina Spellman & Nicholas Scratch (Nick Scratch) FanFics MASTERLIST (UPDATEABLE PINNABLE)

Updated: December 21, 2020

It’s official ONLY 10 more days till Part 4 of CAOS and we get the show back for the last time. As we wait countdown here are some fantastic Nabrina Fics by some wickedly good writers. Escape into their amazing and magical creations through their amazing writing as we wait on a final part. Make sure to leave some Love/Praise or Kudos through the comments on their work. Or maybe given them a little message to how much you enjoy their stories, they have been the real heroes through this Nabrina/CAOS hiatus.

As always have a Wicked or Hell-ish these fics and ENJOY!!!!

Fics in order by Last Update: 9/20/2020

[Key: AU=Alternate Reality - AH=All Human/All Mortal - * = New Fics to List]

1. “Never Really Over”*

Author: Miss_Kath90

Summary: Sabrina Spellman wanted nothing more than to have a normal life and to achieve it, she accidentally had caused a time paradox that had allowed two of her to coexist in the same timeline.One, living in Greendale with her family and friends. The other, reigning over the infernal court in Hell.She could finally have (almost) everything she ever wanted but nothing in Sabrina's life was simple or normal…A new threat looms over Greendale.And she would need all the help she could get to stop it.Especially Nicholas Scratch's, even though every time they are in the same room the weight of their shattered romance filled the air and threatened with crush them. Rated M - Chapters 12/? - Last Update 12/20/2020

2. “Another Year”*

Author: shotgunkitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: Nick wanted to get his hands on his grandfather's journals for years and now his grandmother named her conditions: He gets the journals when he's in a steady relationship. Jumping at the opportunity to finally study his grandfather's research, he tells his grandmother that he has a girlfriend. The problem: He doesn't. Who better to ask than Sabrina to help him out and pretend to be his girlfriend while his grandmother is visiting for the Yule celebrations? Rated T - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 12/19/2020

3. “Under the mistletoe”*

Author: Miss_Kath90 @misskath90

Summary:  Nick and Sabrina meet at Spellman's Christmas party throughout the years. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 12/18/2020

4. “Sins of the Father”*

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary:  In a Greendale where Edward Spellman was given the chance to see his manifesto play out, Sabrina Spellman works to traverse the world her father created for her, walking that fine line between mortal and witch, trying to integrate them both. It’s not enough that she has to maintain that Spellman image while trying to juggle the Weird Sisters, her friends, and an annoyingly hot warlock, Nick Scratch. She also has to deal with the fact that someone or something doesn’t want her to make it to her seventeenth birthday. Rated M - Chapters 9/? - Last Update 12/18/2020

5. “Of Gingerbread and Snow Globes”*

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Nicholas Scratch begrudgingly helps his grandmother move back to her hometown of Greendale. He's got a high powered job and is used to the big city lifestyle. The small town life isn't for him, but he promised his grandmother he would stay through the holidays. Enter, Sabrina Spellman, international journalist and soon-to-be author who happens to love Greendale - and all of its holiday traditions. She's not trying to change Nick's mind about the place, but they do seem to keep crossing paths... Rated M - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 12/18/2020

6. “yuletide blessings”*

Author: bunivy @bunivys

Summary:  Journalist and hopeless romantic Sabrina heads home for the holidays with an assignment: write the perfect article on a small town Christmas to capture the spirit of the holidays. Things start off right when her aunt Hilda performs a bit of tea reading which suggests romance in Sabrina’s future, and she gets a call from one Harvey Kinkle, friend and childhood crush, asking her out on a date to the local Christmas Market. Hilda’s tea never lies and this could really be it. He could be it. To her surprise, she runs into a spellbinding bookseller at the market who seems to be on a quest of his own and before Sabrina knows it, she’s wrapped up in the mystery and holiday joy of it all. Along the way, she comes to learn that maybe there's still some new magic to be discovered in old Greendale, after all. Rated M - Chapters 2/? - Last Update 12/17/2020

7. “Illicit Affairs”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary:  She had never really meant for it to start. It wasn’t like her, the secret meetings, hushed whispers, and built up lies. But there was something about all of it that dragged her under the current and swept her up that she couldn’t deny or ignore. It was never her intention to start an affair with Nicholas Scratch. Though it was somewhat of an inevitability. From the minute they met, a line in the sand was drawn and they spent the better part of two years trying not to come closer to it. But the magnetic pull between them was undeniable, and soon the line in the sand was just as messed up as their sheets. She hadn’t planned it, and the second she let her guard down they’d both fallen into a hole they couldn't quite climb out of. She’d been sleeping with Nick for months and talked to him about more things than she never dared to with Harvey. Harvey.The highschool sweetheart she couldn’t let go. Or rather she couldn’t admit the relationship was failing, because she wasn’t a quitter. But she couldn’t seem to quit Nick either. Rated M - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 12/16/2020

8. “Off The Record - One Shots”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Missing scenes from my completed piece, 'Off The Record.' AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 9/? - Last Update 12/14/2020

9. “If You Let Me”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: After pouring all of her time and effort into obtaining a law degree in the city, Sabrina Spellman moves back to Greendale for one last summer before she departs for good. She's fully intent on enjoying her stay in her hometown, even deciding to pick up a part-time job at her Aunt Hilda's cafe to save up some money. The only problem is that the boy in the bookstore across the way is one she's had some not-so-good history with and it's becoming increasingly harder to ignore him. Before long, she finds herself exploring the complexities of old high-school grudges and what-ifs, all while trying to sort out her present-day relationship with the boy she has long since deemed as non-existent.Meanwhile, Nicholas Scratch wonders if it would just be easier to remain non-existent. AU/AH - Rated M - Chapters 30/? - Last Update 12/10/2020

10. “Let’s Fall in Love for the Night”

Author: shotgunkitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: Hilda Spellman once said that their meeting was fate. And while neither Sabrina Spellman nor Nicholas Scratch were sure if they believed in that kind of thing, they were sure of this: They never wanted to find out what their lives would be like without each other. AU/AH- Rated T - Chapters 17/? - Last Update 12/08/2020

11. “Wicked Winds”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Nicholas Scratch winds up at the Academy of Unseen Arts after being kicked out of several others for being too smart - and too powerful - for his own good. He’s got a chip on his shoulder and he’s not in Greendale to make friends. But then he meets Sabrina Spellman, a witch that’s not only beautiful, but just as up for breaking the rules as him.Except she wants nothing to do with him.His old friend Prudence places a bet that he can’t get her to give into him - but things get complicated as he not only starts to fall for Sabrina, but a deadly darkness settles over Greendale. Rated M - Chapters 23/23 - COMPLETED 12/04/2020

12. “Wintertime Love”*

Author: sweetjs

Summary:  Sabrina and Nick celebrate both Winter Solstice and Christmas through the years. Rated G - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 12/04/2020

13. “p is for passion, n is for not this again”*

Author: Unseemingowl @unseemingowl

Summary: In which Nick is very passionate about the Baxter High encyclopaedia section and Sabrina Spellman can never just get one day of peace and quiet and making out. Rated M - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 12/03/2020

14. “Soft Place To Land”*

Author: shotgun kitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: A collection of short Nabrina one shots based on fluff prompts on tumblr. Rated T - Chapters 14/? - One Shots 11/26/2020

15. “my greatest grief, my deepest desire”*

Author: bunny @bunivys

Summary: She could put her hand out and touch Nick, but she couldn’t hold him, couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t slot her nose into the corner of his neck like she had once loved to do. Couldn’t run her fingers through his curls, hear him sigh against her lips. Could be the first person Nick loved, but not the last. Rated M - Chapters 14/4 - One Shots 11/21/2020

16. “I almost do”*

Author: Miss_Kath90 @misskath90

Summary: Nick and Sabrina dance at Hilda's wedding. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 11/17/2020

17. “Before the Devil Breaks Me”

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary: All Sabrina wants to do is enjoy the last few years with her mortal friends. Attend college, party a little too hard, and make endless memories with them. But when you're a Spellman nothing ever goes as planned, especially not when she meets her handsomely mischievous classmate, Nick Scratch, who introduces her to a side of witchcraft that she's never thought possible.When people start ending up murdered in ritual sacrifices on campus Sabrina knows she can't keep both of her worlds apart any longer. Especially when it seems each murder is a message for her. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 31/31 - COMPLETED 11/17/2020

18. “whispers in the white wind”*

Author: bunny @bunivys

Summary: Nick had no one to knit him scarves and Sabrina didn’t mind sharing.(a collection of tumblr winter fluff prompts.) Rated T - Chapters 7/7 - One Shots 11/13/2020

19. “For Fluffs Sake, Angst-hole”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: This is a collection of short writings/scenes from an ask I did on Tumblr for Nabrina!It used to be all fluff, but now there's some agnsty ones in there too! Not Rated - Chapters 23/23 - Last Update12/07/2020

20. “Haunted Herat”*

Author: shotgunkitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: Sabrina ran through the woods, tree branches crashing to the ground in front of her, grasping at her. Roots digging themselves out of the wet soil, wrapping around her calves, dragging her to the ground. She set them on fire, the angry, high-pitched screams of the trees filling the air as Sabrina got up, looking over her shoulder. She could see torches in the dark, coming closer. “Find that witch!” a male voice bellowed, others chiming in, faint calls of “Burn the witch!” following. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 10/31/2020

21. “Cruel Summer”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: A mix between AU and Cannon, where the young members of the Church of Night also attend Baxter High. The young witches and warlocks then go to the Unseen Arts Summer Camp to bolster their gifts. However Sabrina, being half mortal, only began attending after her Dark Baptism. To the mortals of Greendale, Unseen Arts Camp was for the wealthy. An elite sector of the Baxter High youth that attended a camp deep in the Greendale Wood far upstream of Sweetwater River. Many had tried to find and break in, but none have succeeded. To the mortals, the divide between the camp attendees and the not was of money and status. When in fact, the difference lay with light vs. night.Set between two timelines- the present and the summer, Sabrina attends camp for the first time and grows closer to Nick only for them to be torn apart as school starts. Rated Mature - Chapters 27/27 - COMPLETED 10/27/2020

22. “in a dream, a thousand years ago”*

Author: bunny @bunivys

Summary: It’s a painful thing to be a songbird with no one to serenade, and maybe he knows that, too.(part of the anti-soulmates au; Nick and Sabrina meet in a bar) Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot 10/22/2020

23. “Born To Love You”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows aka @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: So Sabrina left Harvey at the altar for Nick. What now? Tune in for snapshots into Nick and Sabrina's life now that they've admitted their true feelings. What happened after Sabrina left Harvey and ran to Nick? Did they live happily ever after?This will be a collection of snapshots of this version of Nick and Sabrina. I don't know how often it will be updated, but we will get a look into their life together.I enjoy writing my fics based on songs, so if a particular song screams this Nick and Sabrina to you please message me on tumblr or comment below and maybe I'll write a scene based on it! ****Follow up to One-Shot Marry Me. Go READ it first!**** AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 9/24/20

24. “Unwritten”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Tired of her aunt’s matchmaking attempts, Sabrina decides to tell a little white lie… and now she needs a boyfriend to accompany her to her hometown for the holidays.And who better to play that part than her good friend Nicholas Scratch? There is only one little problem… He had a crush on her since the day they met. When two friends pretend to be in a relationship, what could possibly go wrong? Rated T - Chapters 10/10 - COMPLETED 9/22/2020

25. "Free Pour”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: He's a bartender with a perfect free pour and a Ph.D. candidate. She thinks she wants to be a lawyer and wishes she had taken more chances in life. Both of them are trying to move on. But when their paths collide, Nick's hand is no longer steady with the bottle and she's far more willing to take a risk. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 23/23 - COMPLETED 9/01/2020

26. "Burning House”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Sabrina hasn't seen him in months but she still sees him everywhere. Nick sees her every night in his dreams. They both know what they want, but won't let the other have it. Not yet. Not when Nick will hardly talk to her and Sabrina used well...THAT candle... ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 8/28/2020

27. “The Four Pictures”

Author: Copper_16

Summary: It’s been 10 years. Nick and Sabrina are teachers at the Academy along with some familiar faces. It’s been a decade there can’t be that much chaos anymore, right? Wrong. Rated T - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 8/04/2020

28. “Marry Me”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: “No, No, No.” Nick said as he shook his head at Prudence. “Sabrina is my best friend. That’s it.”“Sure.” Prudence shrugged her shoulders.When she explained to her brother that they were likely more she had said it as a statement, not an invitation to have a conversation about it. She was entirely annoyed by the Spellman girl, and had found it odd and irritating that she and her brother had been attached at the hip from a young age.“Besides she’s marrying Kinkle, Prudence.” Nick explained more to himself than to Prudence. His eyes were wild and looking around the room, searching for something to land on. “Not me.”“Do you want her to?” Prudence asked as she leaned forward. Nick paused, unsure how to answer that question. Nick had been in love with Sabrina Spellman for most of his life. But she was happy with Harvey Kinkle. Prudence rolled her eyes and stood up sighing, and placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder. She was rarely affectionate and this was as comforting as she got. “You may want to figure that out.” AU/AH - Rated Mature - ONE-SHOT - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 7/11/2020

29. “The Chaos In the Stars”

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary: Nick sacrificed himself to save her, but Sabrina's not about to let him fester away in Hell. But what happens when saving the one she loves brings about a series of apocalyptic events that Sabrina and the rest of the Spellman clan need to thwart?Alternate part 3. (Part 3 Fic) - Rated Mature - Chapters 24/24 - COMPLETED 6/30/2020

30. “A Little Wicked”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Sometimes, in the darkness of her room, unable to sleep, she thought about how easy it would be to fall in love with him. And she was sure a part of her was a bit in love with him already, but she kept holding to the past and that was hurting them both. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/16/2020

31. “Crash Into Me”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Set after Part 3 and some time after Nick and Sabrina's breakup. Just a little one-shot of a mission they get sent on by Zelda. Tough conversations and some tears...and one bed ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/15/2020

32. “Heaven can’t help me now”

Author: bunivy @bunivys

Summary: Soulmates are a universal law, the way of life. Sabrina's soulmate is Harvey, but she'll pick Nick every time, in every way. ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/13/2020

33. “I knew you were trouble”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Sabrina didn’t know that being away from home for the first time could be so hard.Away from her aunts, friends and her-lifelong-boyfriend, Sabrina have to deal with the nostalgia but also with the new challenges College's life mean: get used to share a room with a not-so-nice roommate, put up with long hours of study and very few of sleep, learn to live from pre-cooked meals instead of her aunt Hilda’s homemade ones, find balance between her studies and her new social life… And resist the temptation a certain Nicholas Scratch mean for her. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 28/28 - COMPLETED 6/06/2020

34. “A Thing or Two to Learn”

Author: gracefulchaos

Summary: What if Sabrina and Nick weren't in the same coven, and they met each other later in life? AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 6/06/2020

35. “When the Bones are Good”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is enjoying her life as a normal teenager. Sabrina Morningstar is reigning Hell with an iron fist. Ambrose Spellman is searching for a solution to bring them back together and close the time loop, Sabrina's wishes be damned. And Nicholas Scratch? He's faced down his own demons and he's desperate for redemption.Except the clock is ticking.On time and Terrors. (Part 4 Fic) - Rated General - Chapters 28/28 - COMPLETED 6/05/2020

36. “Bury a Lie”

Author: raeinthedark

Summary: Sabrina is comfortable with death. It's her job. But everything is changed on a rainy October morning. The life and work she was accustomed to are forever different in the wake of tragedy. There really isn't coming back from this, unless she can figure out who's behind it. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 5/04/2020

37. “I run to you”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Nick and Sabrina love two things. Research and each other. But their research often takes them to far away places, and far away from the person they love most. AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - One-Shot COMPLETED - 5/21/2020

38. “My Body Is A Canvas For Your Love”

Author: Unseemingowl aka @unseemingowl

Summary: Sabrina had no love for the whip or the belt or the cane that Nick had used to enjoy so much, but restraints... That was another matter entirely. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 4/29/2020

39. ”Ground Beneath Her Feet”

Author: mindlesshappy aka @feministstree

Summary: Sabrina is born out of a miracle - one that she wishes would repeat for her, but when she is destined for someone else, how much can she resist before her heart decides to give in. Alternatively, Nick is Sabrina's soulmate, but she really just wants Harvey to be it. Also, in the backseat are all the other possible ships, getting their own soulmate glories. Rated T - Chapters 18/? - Last Update 4/17/2020

40. “in your eyes (there's something burning inside you)”

Author: jessequicksters

Summary: Nicholas falls in love with Sabrina as fast as a mortal sells their soul to the devil. The only problem is, in the Church of Night, everything has a price. Even love.Especially love.(He bleeds every time he dreams of Sabrina and when they kiss, it happens too, but love isn't supposed to hurt, right? Except he's never known about love; the only thing he knows is that this half-mortal is going to be the death of him.) Rated Mature - Chapters 5/5 - Last Update 3/22/2020

41. “The Institute for Divine Craft”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: After a humiliating spat with Father Blackwood pushes Sabrina away from her witching life and the Academy, Madam Satan crafts an alternative solution to move Sabrina Spellman further down the path of night. Ultimately leading her to the Institute for the Divine Craft. A handsome Headmaster with mysterious ties to her father, convinces Sabrina to abandon her mortal life, and cultivate her abilities as a child of the Church of Lucifer. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 19/? - Last Update 3/22/2020

42. “My Lover of Blood and Milk”

Author: Unseemingowl aka @unseemingowl

Summary: It didn’t feel as though it had only been a few hours since she had made her way to the Greendale woods for Lupercalia. As she sat there, shivering in her muddied and bloodied silk slip, it felt as if a completely different person had made her way back out of the forest...... Or how Sabrina struggles with lust and trust after her disastrous Lupercalian night with Nick. Rated Mature - Chapters 4/4 - Last Update 3/15/2020

43. “I Need to Know”

Author: raeinthedark

Summary: Love isn't that easy to erase... and that song is on again. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 2/29/2020

44. “Be True To Your School”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: Nicholas Scratch is the Golden Boy™ of Baxter High; star athlete, top of his class academically, and devastatingly handsome. Sabrina Spellman sees Sophomore year as an opportunity to expand her horizons; joining the cheerleading squad, running for student council, and making new friends along the way while working to maintain her relationships with her old friends. What Sabrina Spellman doesn't know: sophomore year is about to turn her world upside-down. Rated T - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 2/23/2020

45. “Ocean”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU, M-Rated. Nicholas Scratch has everything working in his favor. He's got a decent job as a history teacher, his roommate Melvin is always up for video games and getting high, and Sabrina Spellman lets him mess up her sheets frequently. Sabrina knows Nick isn't good for her, but she can't stay away, no matter how hard it is to pretend she's completely okay with their casual arrangement. But when life takes an unexpected curve, Nick is forced to face a new normal he doesn't know how to navigate. And Sabrina may or may not be there to help him through it. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 27/27 - COMPLETED 2/10/2020

46. “I’ll be there”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: She couldn’t stop looking at him, since she had recovered him from the claws of the Dark Lord, she felt unable to be apart from him and had to admit that part of her was afraid he would disappear if she moved from his side. And Sabrina wouldn't let anyone or anything separate him from her again. Never. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/30/2020

47. “Walk away”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Pain. Could he someday escape the pain? He sometimes thought it impossible. It was strange, his relationship with the pain, it was an enemy and a friend. The pain numbed him. The pain didn’t let him sleep. The pain hurt him and soothed him. It was unhealthy, the way the pain helped him relieve the pain. But it was the only thing he had left. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/27/2020

48. “To Hell and Back”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: Sabrina was successful in her efforts to retrieve Nick from Hell, but the damage - physical and emotional - is deep. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to go your separate ways and trust things will work themselves out in the end. (Written before Part 3 - an alternate take on how Nick recovers from his time in Hell - with and without Sabrina). Rated Mature - Chapters 3/3 - Last Update 1/26/2020

49. “The Morning(star) After”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: A Painful NickxSabrina Reunion Rated T - Chapters 1/3 - Last Update 1/24/2020

50. “My only love sprung from my only hate”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: High School AU where Nick is based on the version of him that Sabrina creates in her dream during the Batibat episode. Harvey and Sabrina have broken up and don't want to work together on the Romeo and Juliet assignment in Drama class, so she ends up being partners with Nick AU - Not Rated - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 1/19/2020

51. “A very witchy Christmas”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Just a bit of silly Christmas fluff that I couldn’t help but write, placed in the series universe after a huge jump in time. Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/25/2019

52. “Mortal Little Christmas”

Author: HeartsInJeopardy

Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas – and the first for Nick Scratch - but Sabrina’s holiday movie was not a good match. Rated T - Chapters 2/2 - Last Update 12/21/2019

53. “Lessons in the Unseen”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: Academy Teachers AU. Sabrina Spellman lives as simple a life as a half-mortal half-witch can. Despite her dislike for the headmaster, she enjoys spending her time teaching Ritual Magic at the Academy of Unseen Arts, hoping to positively shape the minds of young witches and warlocks. However, with the sudden dreadful announcement of her aunt Zelda's engagement and the appearance of one mysterious - and strikingly handsome - Nicholas Scratch, Sabrina finds that her life is not so simple anymore. Or all that safe. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 32/32 - COMPLETED 12/17/2019

54. “Just a Little Obsessed”

Author: eyerys

Summary: Nicholas has developed a tinie-tiny crush on Sabrina. Nothing like major or whatever. It's not like he thinks about her all the time or daydreams about what it would be like to be with her or how cool she is. No, not at all.Sabrina doesn't have a crush on Nick. No, not at all. Uh-uh. She has Harvey. Sweet and loving Harvey Kinkle. But for some reason, she can't help but find her mind wandering. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/13/2019

55. “As The Moon Rises”

Author: venzaren

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is tired.Tired of living a double life. Tired of facing discrimination at the hands of her pack. Tired of dealing with her status as an Omega. And most of all, she's tired of people hounding her about finding her mate.Then Nick Scratch returns to Greendale. AU - Rated General - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 12/07/2019

56. “Thirteen Memories”

Author: tempestbreak

Summary: (Set at the end of Season 2) Sabrina and her friends go to Hell and rescue Nick -- but what happens when that's the easy part?It turns out, having the Dark Lord inside your mind for months can do some damage, and Nick comes back different. His memories of the events leading up to his sacrifice, including his relationship with Sabrina, are gone. How can Sabrina help him regain his memories of their time together when she's not even sure she trusts her own? Rated Mature - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 11/02/2019

57. “But The Greatest Is Love”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: The acheron captured Lucifer Morningstar, but their problems are far from over. The coven is decimated, the Church of Night is no more, Father Blackwood is on the run, and Nick and Sabrina's relationship is in ruins. How do they pick up the pieces and move on? There are more questions than answers and the consequences could be of biblical proportions. Rated Mature - Chapters 25/25 - COMPLETED 10/28/2019

58. “Back to You”

Author: nadiaselite

Summary: Sabrina brings Nick back from hell. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 10/11/2019

59. “The Open Road”

Author: paradiamond

Summary: Nick wants her back, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes. In fact, he insists on it. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

60. “The words “I love you” aren’t enough”

Author: Miss_Kath90

Summary: “Look at me, Nick” he was reluctant but when he finally looked up she took his face in her hands making him unable to look away “What you did that day… Nick, you sacrificed yourself for my sake, even when I mistreated you and told you all those horrible things. You did it for me, because you love me… Don’t you see? You’re incapable of being evil.”Or... Sabrina gets her boyfriend back but things don’t go as smoothly as she thinks they will. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

61. “Mission: Let’s get my boyfriend back”

Author: My_Evak_Heart

Summary: Sabrina and the Fright Club ventures on their first mission: getting Nick back from Hell Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/7/2019

62. “Jealousy is a killer”

Author: Melissa1226

Summary: Will Sabrina and Nick Start something new? and who is watching them from the shadow full of jealousy? Rated Mature - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/28/2019

63. “The Jock”

Author: mikaila_ealum

Summary: An Alternate Universe where Nicholas Scratch is Baxter High’s quarterback along with one of the most popular boys at school. With few knowing the truth, Scratch is living a double life as a warlock at the Academy of Unseen Arts. Sabrina takes a hiatus from the Academy to get more in touch with her mortal side. When Sabrina gets back she becomes partners with Nicholas for a project in theatre class. AU - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/07/2019

64. “act 5, scene 2 (thou and i are too wise to woo peaceably)”

Author: ghostemo aka @wickedscratch

Summary: When Sabrina Spellman rose to a challenge issued by Prudence Night, she never imagined she’d actually make the varsity cheer squad - or that doing so would upend life as she knew it. Now she has to navigate her new role within the social hierarchy of hell -er Baxter High as well as trying to get her boyfriend to actually communicate. It certainly doesn’t help that she’s been paired up with the annoyingly handsome Nicholas Scratch, captain of Greendale’s beloved football team, for a project in her theater class. It’s exactly as, if not more so, cliche as it sounds. AU/AH - Rated T - Chapters 3/? - 7/25/2019

65. “Off the Record”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU. Detective Nicholas Scratch left New York for Greendale in desperate need of a change of scenery. The small town takes some getting used to, but local reporter Sabrina Spellman quickly grabs his attention. It's the fresh start he needed until Greendale's residents start turning up dead. With a murderer on the loose, no one is innocent - and anyone might be next. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 29/29 - COMPLETED 7/22/2019

66. “Bring You Close To Me”

Author: BridgetMcKennitt

Summary: Sabrina and her friends managed to bring Nicholas back from Hell. There was a lot the two of them needed to discuss, but tonight, they had this. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 7/13/2019

67. “A Brief Moment”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: Ever since he's returned from Hell, Nicholas Scratch has been having nightmares. With help from Aunt Hilda, Sabrina unknowingly shows him a light and for a moment, Nicholas knows everything will be okay. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 6/24/2019

68. “To Hell and Back”

Author: swtnerdgirl

Summary: A year has passed since Sabrina and her friends rescued Nick from Hell. No one came back the same. They all had their scars. Some emotionally. Some physically. In the days leading to Hilda's wedding, they all prepare for their lives to change and heal their wounds. Rated Mature - Chapters 16/? - Last Update 6/06/2019

69. “Dead Witch Walking”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: Faced with the possibility of being harrowed to death by her classmates, Sabrina finds an escape. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/26/2019

70. “Moonlight Beneath Rough Lips”

Author: ivylikeveins

Summary: After the encounter with the thirteen witches of Greendale, Sabrina enters the dining hall with moonlight locks bathed in soft blue hues, and Nick does not know what to do. He ends up with a soft and small Sabrina pressed into his chest, sleeping, and wrapped around his very much over-sized jacket with Nick's lips pressed into the soft, pearly strands he wants his soul to get entangled within. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/19/2019

71. “The Hunt”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Nick howled into the night, up at the stars to signify that he was ready on the eve of Lupercalia, the darkness of midnight around them. The first sound of the horn sent them into the forest. The hunt had begun. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/11/2019

72. “Secrets, Secrets are no Fun”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: Sabrina is the new kid for the first time in her life. Choosing to go to the Academy full-time seems to be a hard transition than she was expecting. With the Weird Sisters harassment at an all-time high, dealing with leaving her mortal friend's and condescending teachers, Sabrina is suffering. She's not even allowed to have Salem for comfort. It's not all bad though. She is finally free to do magic whenever she wants, and there's a charming warlock who is being particularly nice to her. Plus, someone is leaving kind gifts on her bed at the end of the night. She just wishes she knew who it was. Not Rated - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 5/06/2019

73. “Unsettled Nighttime Creatures”

Author: mindlesshappy

Summary: We all know Sabrina is going to save Nick. This is how Nick reacts to being saved - which, spoilers alert - is like a very stupid warlock. Rated T - Chapters 5/5 - Completed 4/25/2019

74. “Selfless”

Author: sarahwut

Summary: Sabrina Spellman dragged Nicholas Scratch back from Hell. But Hell might be better than a world in which they aren't together. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Completed 4/23/2019

75. “Homecoming”

Author: cherrystems

Summary: After several months Sabrina is able to get Nick back from Hell with the help of her family and friends. However, Nick has to adjust to Earth again while dealing with PTSD and anxiety. This tells the story of the growth of Sabrina and Nick's relationship over the recovery time. Not Rated - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 4/20/2019

76. “Under Your Spell”

Author: londonmarie

Summary: Sabrina doesn't hesitate to have her Dark Baptism and things go differently. Rated T - Chapters 10/? - Last Update 4/18/2019

77. “Photographs”

Author: Greyowl9831

Summary: It's been at least 150 years since Sabrina signed her name in the Book of the Beast. One day she finds an old photo album. Will the memories it contains be a great walk down memory lane or will it be more than she can bare? Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 4/14/2019

78. “An itch That Needed Scratching”

Author: umbrellacorp

Summary: What if Nick slayed his familiar and Sabrina and Nick got to experience the last night of the Lupercalia festival alone. Tonight, Sabrina would be transformed. Nick was going to show her power that she never knew she had, an innate carnal power. They were about to become the most powerful union of the Church of Night. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/13/2019

79. “and I keep waiting (but I won’t say I’m waiting)”

Author: lost_n_stereo @lost-n-stereo

Summary: You would think that it would hurt less as the days go by, since it’s been nearly two years since Nick sacrificed himself for the greater good and Lilith took him to hell. Except, he didn’t sacrifice himself for the greater good, he sacrificed himself for her. And that makes it a hell of a lot tougher to let go. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/10/2019

80. “Fire”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Their power—together—was overwhelming. It was something that she had not felt either, the consuming feeling of expanding power. It was entirely addicting. Rated Mature - Chapters 2/2 - Completed 3/24/2019

81. “something I can believe”

Author: Anry

Summary: Missing scene after Sabrina's baptism. I wouldn't say that it's really a relationship here, just conversation. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 1/25/2019

AND THERE YOU GO!!!! Have fun everyone, if I missed any Fics or you have any recommendations for the list message me or send in a ask and I’ll add it to the list. Can’t wait for Part 4 and Enjoy <3333