suffice to say: you are wrong

Did I say that she was beautiful? I was wrong. Beauty is too tame a notion; it evokes only faces in magazines. A lovely eloquence, a calming symmetry; none of that describes this woman’s face. So perhaps I should assume I cannot do it justice with words. Suffice it to say that it would break your heart to see her; and it would mend what was broken in the same moment; and you would be twice what you’d been before.
—  Clive Barker

“We need to remember, this is about those little girls. Just remember that, you know, they got hurt too.

We in Portland have this weird tendency to continue patterns that we’ve done forever, and one of them is this same old, just to put it bluntly, white savior complex. Suffice to say, I think it’s immensely, immensely morally wrong and irresponsible how much money we have gotten as opposed to how much support, money, love, kindness, that has been given to that little girl.”

HSAU Drabble: Angst Dream

“Lexa, baby!”


“Are you getting ready?”

“Like you told me to,” Lexa chuckled. “What did you say the dress code was, again?”

“Chic casual.”

“I don’t…what? It’s either formal or it’s casual.” Lexa snorted in amusement.

“What are you wearing?”

“Come and see.”

Lexa was debating on whether to keep her hair down or up in a messy bun, when she felt arms wrap around her, deliberately feeling up her abs before lips pressed to her neck.

“I’m surprised you’re not in a dress.”

“I wanted to, but you said-”

“I know. Babe, you look stunning. A button up is perfect.”

Costia turned Lexa around, pressing her against the counter as she leaned in to kiss Lexa’s lips, sliding Lexa’s hands to grab her hips.

Lexa kissed her, sighing softly as she did so, the scent of their distinctly different perfumes mixing pleasantly, somehow.

“…What exactly are we going to, again?”

“My friend Sarah’s art gala.” Costia explained, smiling brightly. “She did a series of works on the theme Spring.”

Lexa nodded slowly. “And the kids?”

Costia laughed. “You think you’ll be so bored there that you’d want to make your own children suffer through it, too? I’m your wife, isn’t that enough?”

Lexa smiled sheepishly. “They’re not coming?”

“No, babe. Emily and Tyler are at my mom’s.” Costia cocked a brow. “But, Woods, play your cards right, actually socialize, and I will rock your world with mind blowing sex later tonight.”

Lexa nodded, running a hand through her hair. Down, she decided.

“Lex, we’ll be late. Let’s go.”


“You’ve been working later.”

Lexa had just slipped into the penthouse door, at two am. She knew she reeked of alcohol, and that wasn’t ever a good sign.

She wasn’t really much of a drinker, but these last few months had certainly forced her into the habit.

And now, Clarke was sitting up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her, her eyes sleepless and tired.

Everything about her looked tired.

She was still beautiful, breathtaking, to Lexa. But there was something about her demeanor that flipped, that changed.

Maybe Lexa’s nights out weren’t helping, either.

Lexa startled momentarily, before exhaling a breath.

“I…” She sighed, setting the keys down. She licked her lips, feeling how dry they were.

“You drove like that?” Clarke whispered.

“Clarke, I was fine-”

“Lexa. You can’t fucking walk straight.” Clarke growled.

Lexa made a face. “Who cares, Clarke? I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, not like I have a history with drunk drivers or anything.” Clarke whispered coldly, and Lexa felt her insides churn uncomfortably.

Yeah, so maybe she was the reason Clarke never got better.

But things weren’t easy on her either.

Clarke bit her lip. “Who were you with, Lexa?”

“Linc and Anya.” Lexa lied smoothly, rubbing her temples.

“Yeah?” Clarke pried. “Linc and Anya? Who are in Arkadia right now, for Indra’s retirement party? That we’re missing, because of your so called busy off season schedule?”

Lexa snapped, eyes narrowing. “Enough, Clarke.”

“Who were you with, Lexa?” Clarke challenged, dropping the blanket.

“The boys.” Lexa sighed. “The team. We were at some bars, some clubs…I don’t….I didn’t see anyone, Clarke. You know that.” She told the truth in a soft, hurt voice.

“I don’t really know anything, anymore, Lexa.” Clarke sighed.

“I’m…sorry.” Lexa murmured. “I should be more…present.”

Clarke laughed wryly. “I think we’re past that, Lexa.”

“Clarke, what do you want from me? I’m trying to make it work. I’m balancing you, and work, and-”

“Stop. Stop making it about everything else, Lexa.” Clarke shook her head. “The mis-” Clarke gathered her breath. “The miscarriages triggered all of this. But our issues run….so deep. You can’t fucking stop pleasing your parents to realize that they don’t…they don’t give a shit about you, Lexa!” Clarke finally snapped. “They weren’t here when you were sick, throwing up into a trash can all night! They weren’t here when you lost the championship and wouldn’t leave our room for days! They weren’t here for any of my fucking….they didn’t care when we lost the baby, and they don’t care now.”

Lexa was heaving, trying to breathe evenly, trying to wake up from the terror she was feeling.

“…what is now, Clarke?” Lexa questioned evenly. “What…what do we do, then?” Clarke’s words had stung deep, bringing back all the trauma of the past few months.

Clarke sighed, shifting the blanket off as she softly padded over to Lexa, cupping her cheeks. She tenderly kissed Lexa’s cheek, shaking her head.

“Divorce, Lexa. I want to go home. I…I can’t believe I would ever, ever say this to you but…we’re done.”


The art gallery was magnificent. High glass walls formed the entry into the posh, yet minimalistic lobby, where champagne and hors d'oeuvres were being served.

The actual displays were in the gallery itself, back behind the lobby. Lexa had never seen a group of people so unpretentious, so genuinely amazed and in love with whatever it was in that back display room.

She thought she had an idea of what galas were like, and she was all wrong.  

“This is my wife, Lexa.” Costia smiled as she introduced Lexa to the artist she’d been referring to. “Lex, this is Sarah, her display is-”

“Wow.” The artist smiled, shaking Lexa’s hand in excitement. “It’s an honor to meet you. Both of you, but Costia and I have a little history, so I’m used to her.”

Costia chuckled at that.

“But…it’s not every day a model and a professional football player walk in to see my work. Suffice it to say I’m a huge fan.”

Lexa smiled, shaking her hand. “I’m flattered, thanks. The pleasure is all mine.”

It’d been awhile since anyone was thrilled to meet her, after Clarke’s divorce, since they used to be a couple in the spotlight.

Since then, she’d worked to better her image, going out less, doing more charity work. It was there that she reunited with Costia, and when they both realized that they weren’t getting any younger…things happened.

“Please, take a while, meet everyone here, and then go inside and have a look.” Sarah ushered them. “And thanks again for coming!”


“Clarke, you can’t-”

“Lexa, I-”

“Clarke!” Lexa was staring in horror at their….her…half empty apartment, Clarke’s belongings already cleaned out, while Lexa was at her game. “You…”

Clarke had tears in her eyes, shouldering a bag. “Lexa, we need to-”

“Love, no.” Lexa shook her head frantically. “Clarke-”

“Lexa. We talked about this. Hell, we fought about this. It shouldn’t be a surprise.” Clarke sighed, lip trembling.


“Didn’t think I would?” Clarke whispered.

“Clarke.” Lexa’s jaw set, firm. “I love you.”

Clarke only shook her head, tears falling freely.

“I love you more than I will ever love anybody.” Lexa sounded broken, dimmed. “You…you said you would never leave! Clarke, you fucking promised!”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “Lexa…what happened to us? Those were promises I made before things got crazy, before you started drinking, before I lost the baby….twice.”

“Clarke, I still love-”

“You couldn’t…even look at me.” Clarke whispered. “I know I disappointed you, but-”

“Clarke, it wasn’t like that. I-”

“It doesn’t…really matter, does it?” Clarke sighed. “Lexa.” She took a step forward, and Lexa’s lip trembled as Clarke wrapped her arms around her, holding her close.

“Clarke, please…” Lexa whimpered, so broken, so vulnerable. “Don’t go. We…I can fix this. I can fix this, just-”

“I don’t know what happened.” Clarke murmured. “But I will always love you, Lexa. Always. Take care. See someone….I want you to be happy. I really do. But I know that with me, you can’t. That’s why I have to go.”


Lexa wasn’t bored, per se.

Okay, maybe she was bored a little.

But it wasn’t the art. The art was actually breathtaking, fantastic. She’d fallen in love with so many pieces in this one night, she never realized how powerful it truly could be.

But after so many people stopped her for a handshake, a photo, and autograph, things got old rather quickly.

She couldn’t really tune in to many conversations, simply because they would shift to football whenever she’d join, and frankly, she wasn’t interested.

Not tonight.

She was staring at one piece that felt eerily familiar. It was a forest at midnight, stars shining above. There were butterflies, sitting on the branches that looked almost…bioluminescent. They glowed. It was entrancing, and before she could take a step forward to identify the placard, the champagne was almost knocked out of her hands as something hit her leg.

She glanced down in surprise, and a grinning little toddler was glancing up at her. She was absolutely adorable, in every sense of the word. She had brown waves, with sharp green eyes. She smiled with chubby cheeks, wearing a cute little dress. She clutched a stuffed raccoon in her hands.

“Hello.” Lexa smiled, kneeling down.

The little girl regarded her for a moment, and then let out, “Hello.” She parroted it back perfectly, calmly, as if she were sizing Lexa up.

“I’m Lexa.” Lexa shook her hand out, grinning when she got a chubby toddler hand in hers for a handshake. “What’s your name?”

“Alex.” The girl replied cutely, though it was a bit slurred in her toddler voice, and it sounded like “I’m Alecks”. “…Play?” She cocked her head to the side like a puppy, curious with bright eyes and a hopeful smile.

Lexa glanced back at Costia, who was busy socializing. She smiled. “Alright, I’ll play. What do want to pla-”

“TAG!” Alex grinned and tagged Lexa’s leg, bolting back into the gallery.

“Of course.” Lexa grinned, knowing better than to run, so she hastened back to follow.

She was met with a fresh wave of people, but Alex waited for her, and Lexa was able to catch her. Before she could dart off, Lexa stopped her for a moment.

“Maybe tag isn’t the best game to play here.” Lexa told her, and Alex blinked, clearly not understanding. “Too many people.” She explained softly. “It’s dangerous. Do you have a different game?”

Alex blinked. “Diff..erent?” She replied adorably, and then her eyes lit up. “Come!” She grinned, taking hold of Lexa’s hand.

“Come?” Lexa laughed. “Where?” She followed nonetheless, smiling at people who waved, used to the attention.

“Toys!” Alex exclaimed, as if she’d struck gold.

Lexa looked quizzical. “You have toys here?”

Alex nodded vigorously.

“Do you live here?” Lexa blinked.

Alex snorted a laugh, and Lexa almost froze. It sounded just like her own, for just a moment. “Nooooo, silly.” Alex drawled.

Lexa looked unsure, as they moved past the crowd, towards the back. “Are you sure-”

“Toys.” Alex nodded affirmatively.

Lexa eyed the back door that clearly read: employees only. She frowned. “Alex, I don’t think-”

The door opened, and Alex shook her hand free of Lexa’s, darting to the arms of whomever had stepped out from the back room.

Lexa’s eyes followed Alex as she was scooped up, immediately ready to jump to her defense, to protect her, until her eyes settled on just who had picked her up.

“Mommy!” Alex squealed, and she clutched Clarke Griffin’s neck like a koala.

Clarke grinned, kissing her head. “Did you sneak away again, baby girl?”

Alex grinned. “Friend!” She announced, pointing to Lexa. “Leksa.”

Clarke glanced up and gasped, mirroring Lexa’s stunned reaction.

Oh, shit.


Lexa couldn’t get out of bed.

Her bed smelled like Clarke, her wife, her best friend…her ex.

It stung. It hurt. It ached. It made Lexa want to lay down and die. They’d gone and fucked up the greatest thing that ever happened to either of them. Partying, drinking, miscarriages, rumored affairs, distance, it all came down to Clarke leaving.

Lexa missed her, so so much.

She missed Clarke’s sleepy smile, her morning kisses.

She missed Clarke working in her studio, throughout the day.

She missed Clarke’s excitement to catch up on their favorite evening shows, the way Clarke would cuddle into her side and kiss every inch of her face. The way Clarke would smile just because she’d seen Lexa smile, and the two would fall into a laughing kissing heap on the couch.

She would’ve killed to have those days back.

Lexa stood from the bed, finally. Her stomach was cramping with pain, she needed to eat. She needed to shower. She needed to call her coach and get busy.

But instead of the phone, she found her feet tugging her down the hall, to the closest room.

The baby’s room.

Lexa blinked back tears. There was nothing in it. No telltale crib to sob over, no toys or stuffed animals to remind her.

Just memories.

Memories of her and Clarke setting it up together. Memories of Clarke painting the wall, laughing. Memories of Lexa kissing her swollen belly, whispering to it.

…And then other memories.

Memories of Clarke sobbing, unable to believe it.

Memories of Lexa slipping out because Clarke was hollow, and she needed a diversion more than ever.

Memories of the name “Alex”, intricately carved into the head board of a crib that was never going to be used.


“Lex?” Clarke blinked, Alex regarding Lexa with a curious gaze.

“Clarke?” Lexa whispered, eyes darting from Alex to Clarke.

“…Hi.” Clarke murmured.

“Hi?” Lexa breathed. “Hi? After all this-”

“Lexa, please.” Clarke murmured. “Not in front of-”

“I wasn’t going to.” Lexa shook her head, eyes regarding Alex with the fondest stare. She didn’t understand why, but she felt such a connection to Alex. Slowly, she was piecing it together.

“…Play?” Alex asked hopefully.

Clarke looked unsure. “Alex, Lexa is…a very important person. She doesn’t have time to play with you-”

“I do.” Lexa lit up at the idea.

“…What?” Clarke blinked.

Lexa smiled her trademark, panty dropper smile, and Clarke’s heart slammed into her gut. “Of course I do.”

“Well, I don’t want Alex out here, it’s too crowded, and-” Clarke was cut off by Alex herself.

“Mommy, Leksa come!” She grinned, as if her idea was genius. She pointed to the back lounge, where her toys were.

“…May I?” Lexa whispered.

Before Clarke could answer, the door opened once more, Luna Rivers stepping out, looking ever professional in her suit. She was on the phone, but she seemed to have paused her conversation a moment.

“Is everything okay?” Luna asked, arm around Clarke’s waist. “Woods. Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here. This is…great.”

Lexa had heard. She’d heard that Luna Rivers, Arkadia’s fucking sweetheart, had won Clarke over. She’d heard that maybe Clarke was considering adopting. She’d heard of some new procedure for Clarke to have a child, but…..

Seeing it all together was something different.

That was her Clarke. That was her beautiful, loving wife, and that was supposed to be their playful child. Lexa felt a lump form in her throat. That was all supposed to be hers.

“…Yeah.” Lexa nodded, numb. “I think I’m gonna go.”

“No!” Alex drawled, lower lip wobbling. “No play, Leksa?”

Lexa’s heart shattered.

Clarke sighed, the ring on her finger flashing as she ran her free hand through her hair. “Come on, Lexa.” She decided, ignoring Luna’s inquisitive stare. “Here, take your child.” She smiled half heartedly, and handed Alex to Luna.

“Hey babe.” Luna grinned, and Alex parroted her.

“Hey babe.”

“That’s momma, to you.” Luna kissed her head. “You like the new dragon toy?”

Alex nodded. “Raccoon better.” She insisted.

“You and that raccoon, huh?” Luna teased. “Alright, go play. I have to make a call, but I’ll play soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Alex nodded, and turned to Lexa. “Come.”

Lexa smiled a watery smile. “Coming.” She murmured, and Alex took her hand in her own, leading her in.


“Gotcha!” Alex cried as she pounced on Lexa, the two playing heartily on the couch in the lounge while Clarke and Luna talked in hushed voices in the corner, occasionally glancing at Lexa, as if she were going to up and kidnap Alex.

“Oh no!” Lexa wheezed as Alex faux stabbed her. “My heart…”

Alex watched her pretend to die, for a moment, then contemplated it. “I fix it.” She bent over Lexa, and pressed a kiss to her two little fingers, and then put them over Lexa’s heart. “Better.” She whispered, and Lexa sat up, smiling when Alex crawled into her lap, as if she’d known her all her life.

“Where’d you learn that?” Lexa asked.

“Mommy,” Alex answered softly.

“Does her heart hurt, too?” Lexa whispered.

Alex nodded. “She cry. I fix it.”

“I’ll bet.” Lexa replied softly, eyes watering.

Lexa glanced back up at Luna and Clarke as their voices grew louder.

“You have to go?” Clarke asked softly.

“The absolute last thing I want to do is leave you. But I’ll be home before you will.” Luna promised. “I’ll be quick.”

“Alright.” Clarke sighed, and Luna wrapped her arms around Clarke’s waist, pulling her closer.

Lexa felt sick, the way Luna’s hands grabbed Clarke’s hips, the way Luna kissed her, making Clarke’s lips chase hers.

Alex hid her face shyly, and Lexa sighed. “Me too.”

Luna and Clarke pulled apart, and Clarke was smiling hazily.

“You liked that?” Luna chuckled, and Clarke licked her lips. “Tonight.” She smirked, and that one word promise was like a kick to the gut.

“Bye, babe.”

Lexa tried not to sulk as she heard that, Luna coming over to Alex and Lexa.

“Hey, kid. I have to go do something real quick, but I’ll see you at home, okay?” Luna murmured, and Alex nodded, hugging her leg.

Luna glanced at Lexa uneasily.

“I’ll behave.” Lexa assured.

Luna didn’t blink. “This is my family, Woods. Don’t act up, and don’t get any ideas, and we’re good.”

“We’re good.” Lexa replied, watching Luna nod in satisfaction.

“Alright, enjoy your night, tell Costia I say hi.”


“So…” Clarke began, as she sat beside Lexa on the couch, a foot of distance between them.

“…I love Alex.” Lexa blurted out. “She’s…Clarke, she’s amazing.”

Clarke smiled, and it looked melancholy. “Thanks. She’s my everything.”

They watched as Alex sifted through her pile of toys, trying to find the perfect one for Lexa.

“So she doesn’t….know?” Lexa asked softly.

“Do your kids know that you were ever married to me?” Clarke shot back.

“No.” Lexa sighed.

“Right. So, no, Alex has no idea. She knows she’s mine and Luna’s, and that’s the truth.” Clarke responded, headstrong as always.

“You look…beautiful.” Lexa murmured. “And I don’t mean that in a hit on you way, Clarke. You look better. Healthy, again.”

Clarke smiled. “You look stunning too.” She offered. “Not that you ever lost it.”

Lexa blushed, and her heart raced a little.

She hated that she felt this way, like a high schooler with a crush.

It all felt so familiar.

Clarke could just…curl into her arms, and it’d be their Alex playing on the carpet, and it would be Clarke’s art they were celebrating, rather than her gallery.

But life was complicated.

“I know you’re…thinking.” Clarke began softly. “About how things went wrong, but Lexa…don’t. Just…we have to take it as it is, you know? For our…children. For ourselves.”

Lexa bit her lip. “I didn’t like living without you.” She admitted.

Clarke sighed. “You think I did? I had to go home to Arkadia, Lexa. Where I met you. Where you swept me off my feet and I just…fell headfirst. God, I thought everything would just work out, you know?”

Lexa felt her heart crumble, imagining what Clarke felt, going back.

“I had to sit on our flower field, and wish it was a whole decade earlier.” Clarke whispered, and the beginnings of tears were in the corner of her eyes. “I had to imagine your arm around me, and your smile, and those nights in your guest house…”

“Stop.” Lexa shook her head. “I can’t…”

“I’m sorry.” Clarke sighed. “But…you’re with Costia now, right? I always knew she was your girl.”

“She wasn’t.” Lexa protested fiercely, and then paused, because now she was speaking ill of her own wife. When the fuck did things get so complicated?

“She was. I…I know this is going to hurt, but…we’ve been through so, so much. I…I wish we hadn’t, Lexa. I wish I’d never developed feelings for you in that stupid english class. I wish we hadn’t fallen in love, and then gone to Polis together, and moved in after, and I just think that if it never had happened, I wouldn’t be this broken.”

Lexa felt like a train had hit her.

“But…maybe that’s the way it goes. We have ups and downs, and in the end…we just come away with one thing. For me, that’s Alex, Lexa. I…” She shook her head. Alex came back, clutching her toy raccoon in her hand. She handed Lexa a bigger raccoon, smiling.

“You be mommy.” She squealed in excitement.

“You’re the baby?” Lexa whispered, and Alex nodded.

Alex noticed Clarke’s tears, and frowned. “You cry mommy.”

Clarke blinked in surprise, quickly wiping at them. “No…I’m not. It’s okay, baby girl. Don’t worry.”

Alex ran over to her toys, coming back with a stuffed lion. “S’okay, mommy.” She adorably climbed between Clarke and Lexa, stroking Clarke’s arm. “You be mommy, too.”

Clarke laughed at her daughter’s innocence, thinking that a lack of a toy and a role in her game was the reason for her tears.

“Look!” Alex grinned, holding their toys altogether. “Family!”

Lexa glanced up at Clarke, over Alex’s head, with misty eyes. They shared a longing glance, and Clarke mouthed an I love you, before Lexa’s vision went black.


Lexa sat up, startled, tears falling, breathing heavily. She glanced around herself, eyes recognizing the light of dawn, illuminating her and Clarke’s bedroom.

She glanced beside her, heart fluttering at the sight of her wife, waking up slowly from Lexa’s sudden movement, her beautiful blue eyes cracking open to see the commotion.

“Baby?” Clarke mumbled, mouth barely open. Her eyes focused on Lexa’s tear streaked face, and she sat up almost instantly, blinking rapidly. “Lexa? Baby what’s wrong? What happened?”

Lexa couldn’t really form words, so she threw her arms around her wife, hugging her so tightly that Clarke wheezed a little.

“Whoa.” Clarke murmured, hugging Lexa back. “That bad, baby?”

Lexa closed her eyes, soaking in Clarke’s warmth, her scent, her feel. Everything about her. “I love you.” Lexa whispered. “I love you and I don’t tell you enough-”

“You tell me once every hour, twenty four hours a day.” Clarke teased, her voice raspy with sleep.

“I love you. Unconditionally. Baby, no baby-”

“Baby?” Clarke raised a brow. “What baby? Alex? Did something happen?”

Lexa sighed. “…I had an awful dream.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“Do you want to talk about it…?” Clarke blinked.

“Not yet.” Lexa admitted gently. “Can I…can you come with me?” She stood, rolling off the bed.

“…Sure.” Clarke replied gently, joining her hand with Lexa’s.

Quietly, the two made their way over to the room down the hall, closest to them. They stepped inside, and Lexa bit back a sob as she saw the old crib, the painted blue walls, the dragons and raccoons and the lions, all the stuffed animals, and then some.

“Hello mommas!” Alex was playing with her stuffed animals in bed, knowing better than to wake Clarke and Lexa up before seven, as they’d told her it was too early. Alex looked thrilled that they were up at such an hour. “You up! Play!” She shot up, adorable in her onesie, as she asked Lexa to be picked up, with grabby hands.

Her Alex.

Her adorable, lovable, little girl. Half Clarke, half Lexa. Her greatest love.

“Hi, baby.” Lexa whispered, clutching Alex dearly, kissing every inch of her face.

Alex giggled, enjoying the attention, and Clarke smiled, raising a brow in question.

“Is everything alright, baby?” Clarke asked, and Lexa responded by pulling her into their embrace with a free arm, kissing Alex’s head, then Clarke’s.

“My girls.” Lexa murmured, enjoying the way Alex clung like a koala to her neck, and Clarke kissed her cheek.

“…Hungry.” Alex announced.

Clarke groaned. “Alex, it’s…like…six.”

“Waffles?” Alex asked, shining her puppy eyes to Lexa.

“Anything you want, baby girl.” Lexa murmured, kissing a chubby cheek with great satisfaction. “Anything.”

“Mommy too.” Alex demanded, and Lexa grinned.

“You heard the baby. Get your robe, love. I’ll cook.”

“I don’t know what kind of dream you had, but Lexa, you don’t need an epiphany to be a perfect mom and wife, you already were.” Clarke reminded softly with a smile. “This is your everyday routine.”

“I know, and I love it. I never want it to change.” Lexa informed Clarke softly.

“Bad dream?” Alex asked Lexa gently, patting Lexa’s cheek to make her feel better.

“Mhmm.” Lexa hummed with an adoring smile.

Alex nodded knowingly. “Next time…come to Alex.” She offered. “I fix it.” She pressed a kiss to Lexa’s heart, and Lexa grinned, remembering when she and Clarke had taught her that.

“Thank you.” Lexa kissed Alex’s head. “I love you, baby girl.”

“Love you momma.” Alex answered instantly, thinking nothing of it.

“And Clarke, I love you more than anything in the world, and you are a gift, and I hope I show you that every day.” Lexa murmured, leaning down for a kiss, sending a feeling of joy through her body.

“You do, baby.” Clarke murmured. “And I love you more. Now stop being weird and make us waffles. And coffee. And also…can you do it shirtless? I need some reward for waking up this early.”

“Of course.”

Lexa laughed as Clarke and Alex lined her face with kisses.

okay everyone, get ready for some linny college au headcanons:

  • okay, we all know that luna’s That Fine Arts girl who’s been on campus since forever. Who is she? Where did she come from? No one knows but she’s awesome.
  •  She probably spent her first day on campus, walking around, randomly chatting with strangers about their cute dog, looking like a mannequin that came from a thrift store.. It’s cool. She’s nice. She’s fun to talk to, and by her second day, she’s dyed her hair a bright, bubblegum blue. People have loved her ever since.
  • And, ofc she’s rooming with the beautiful and definitely very terrifying journalism student ginny weasley. The girl has six brothers and is always ready for a shouting match if you say a single bad word against them. 
  • She and Luna really hit it off and got together on their first month and haven’t let go of each other ever since. They’re constantly seen around campus, holding hands, being beautiful together. Sometimes, Luna takes a sharpie and draws flowers on Ginny’s skin. Ginny returns the favor but she’s utterly shit at drawing. Luna loves the flowers anyway.
  • Their first date is at a cheap burger place because hey, they’re college students and broke. Ginny makes a face at the questionable food in the diner and Luna kisses her with ketchup stained lips.
  • They can always be seen at night, as well, lying on the grass, still holding each other’s hands, stargazing. Ginny would point out her favorite stars and tell stories about them. She has a story attached to every single one, you see.
  • Friday movie nights are WildTM  . Luna’s picks are either those so bad they’re good rom-coms or the most terrifying case of horror movies known for the existence to the existence of man (i.e. the first time she got to pick, she and Ginny watched “The Human Centipede”. The next time she picked, which was nearly two months later because bloody hell Luna what is wrong with you?! She very unironically put on an Adam Sandler movie. 
  • Ginny is into old films, Casa Blanca, Gone With the Wind, The Godfather, which proves to be problematic, because Giny, darling, I love you, but I am not sitting through three and a half hours of Dr. Zhivago.
  • No one wants to have game nights with them and they are eternally banned from Monopoly. Suffice it to say that Ginny is the most competitive af in existence and Luna has this way of talking to you and before you knew it you were handing over all your money, and would she also like your properties?
  • They’re absolutely that Couple who everyone is jealous of. Look at them, heads bent together in math, giggling to each other. And what, now they’re feeding each other chocolate?
  • They have a monthly tradition of dressing up in matching outfits. Ginny’s okay with anything so Luna’s usually the one who picks out the cloths. This has resulted in hilarious (and adorable) couple pictures.
Oh My, My, My - III (Bucky Barnes AU)


SUMMARY: A love story from start to finish.

WARNINGS: angst (just a liiiiil somethin of it) and language… i think….

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is probably the fastest i’ve ever uploaded ANYTHING like EVER so please be very proud of me and hope I stay this way until I finish the series lol
as for my tag list i have 13 spots open. so if you want to be tagged, just let me know! 


Natasha let you raid her closet for something to wear to the party. She was always very honest with you so you knew you couldn’t go wrong with having her help you out.

“Not your style.” She said matter-of-factly as you twirled around in the floral dress.

“How do they even dress up for these parties?” You frowned.

“Well, for one it’s at Stark’s house so you know everyone’s going to dress up to the nine’s.” Natasha jumped out of bed and pushed you out of the way so she could look through her clothes. “Usually jeans, cute shoes, and a cute blouse would suffice at, let’s say… Sam Wilson’s party, but at Tony’s parties you gotta show up looking real nice.”

You stared at her in disbelief, “How do you even know this?”

“I’ve snuck in before.” She shot you a wink and she pulled out a black dress from her closet, throwing it to you.

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A bad idea

Nesta runs away after the war. This turned out different to what I expected and I couldn’t get it right but here it is anyway.


Nesta knew it was a bad idea. Everything happened so quickly in the war that she hardly noticed her relationship with Cassian evolving into something more than their snide remarks to each other and constant back and forth of verbal swordplay. They were such a bad idea. But she felt a small part of her refusing to care. She was drawn to this arrogant bat for some Cauldron-damned reason.

But she was never meant to exist within this world, this world of magic and high fae and quick tempered Illyrians. She should have stayed human and unimportant and completely irrelevant. But she was forced into this new world kicking and screaming and cursing that damned king to oblivion. It had been clear for some time that Feyre was always meant to be high fae. Elain would survive because she always found a way to turn a bad situation into a good one. But Nesta had achieved her purpose, she had watched as the King of Hybern died and she had made sure to sever his head from his body. But what was supposed to happen next? The only thing she could think of that would give her purpose in this new world was to be there for Elain, but her sister didn’t need her anymore. Elain had wormed her way into the hearts of Feyre’s new family and no longer needed her older sister to guide her and protect her. The only other thing keeping Nesta in Velaris was the strange way she was drawn to the commander. 

But she knew Cassian was not hers to claim. He flirted with her for fun and thought he held deeper feelings for her, but that must have only come from the thrill of war. Her own feelings were just signs of weakness, signs of manipulation that she promised herself she would never be swayed by.

So Nesta decided to leave. She only seemed to bring death and pain so it seemed a logical course of action to slip away in the middle of the night and make a new life for herself, away from those that seemed to tip-toe around her all the time, away from those who would thrive once she was out of their way. She would find her own purpose, a new purpose. Because if you can’t find one, you make one. She would find her own way of thriving, in isolation and peace.

She had managed to escape into the forests on the edge of Velaris, wandering through with ease as she scared off the creatures that may have wanted to feast on her blood or rip her apart for joy. She made sure to keep walking for as long as possible each day, then on the fourth day she found the cottage with a roof of hair and the smell of death hanging over it - the Weaver’s cottage. She expected the smell to be enough to hide her scent long enough for her to figure out her next move and keep anyone away. It was off-putting but effective, no one bothered her and she soon got used to the place. She had to throw out some particularly nasty items and used the hair stored in the cottage to create a sort of warning barrier around the area. She lay the hair down in a circle surrounding the clearing in which the cottage sat, using techniques she had found in a book before she left to procure a sort of warding spell with the barrier to keep passers-by out. She then set about cleaning out the remains of bodies from the cottage. She was not willing to live any longer surrounded by so much death, despite the fact that she was cursed with it.

After a while she assumed that the initial shock of her disappearance would have worn off for the Inner Circle of the Night Court and they would be settling back to normal, grateful for the reprieve she had given them. So she managed. She learned to hunt well enough to get the appropriate meat and wandered around looking for berries and such to keep herself healthy and fed. It was going well for the eldest Archeron sister, but she needed to move on and find a dwelling more permanent and less horrific. However, as much as she deliberated what to do next she could not think of where to go next. She didn’t know where she was welcome or what sort of work she would be willing or able to do to make a living. She started to worry that she would be stuck in that cottage for the rest of her impossibly long existence, and she stayed there for a long time before anything happened to change her path, or rather, a long time for a human.

After five months of living in solitude, cooking and cleaning and hunting and repeating, a boom sounded just beyond her circle of hair, behind the cottage. Nesta thought little of it as she continued to read a book on weaving, likely perused by the Weaver herself at one time, but then she heard footsteps passing over that line of hair, towards her. She stood and gently placed that book on the chair before wandering softly over to the back of the house, hoping to peek through a window and observe the intruder before deciding what to do with them. The footsteps began to circle around towards the front of the house and she decided to abandon her plan and snatch up a large, thick stick waiting to be cut up for the fire. She quietly ripped off some of the smaller twigs branching off the stick before standing close to the front door with her back to the wall in a defensive position she had seen the others do in the past. She prepared to swing as the door handle turned and a crack appeared, letting a minuscule breeze through. She thought she caught a whiff of some familiar smell but wasted no time deliberating over it as the door opened wide enough for a hulking male figure to fill the doorway and take a step forward.

She swung just as the figure stepped fully into the shade of the cottage and almost succeeded in hitting his skull before strong arms caught the branch and swung it out of her grasp. She was too slow to twist away before he caught her in a crushing grip, her back to his chest, which allowed her the use of only her legs and head. Nesta began to thrash about, feeling as if she was being forced into that Cauldron again but then she heard the male speak.

“Oh thank the Cauldron,” he breathed as he maintained his grip.

Nesta recognised that voice but couldn’t seem to piece together what it was doing here of all places. She continued to wriggle in his arms before he let her go and spun her around to face him, his giant hands on her upper arms. As soon as Nesta caught sight of that face she froze, confused. After a moment she stepped out of his looser grasp and spoke to another person for the first time in months.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded of Cassian.

Cassian only stared at her in a mixture of relief and anger. “What the hell do you mean? I’m looking for you you difficult woman. What the hell do you think you’re doing running off like that and coming here of all places? We’ve been worried sick out of our minds for months and all this time you’ve been in this nightmare place? I only came here on a whim, even Azriel’s shadows couldn’t pick up on your location.” His nostrils were flaring but he couldn’t stop looking her up and down as if searching her for injury.

“I left a note.” She responded flatly.

Cassian stared at her face again in utter bewilderment. “You think that sufficed? My gods Nesta I never expected you to be this dim.” He ran his hands over his face, distorting his features as he tried to release some tension.

She became defensive immediately. “Excuse me?! What exactly is wrong with you?”

He looked outraged. “What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?! A note to say you’ve decided to leave is not exactly the explanation or goodbye we deserve Nesta! Why did you leave? Why come here of all places? And don’t you ever think of doing something like that again.” His voice was stern and commanding enough to shock Nesta into silence. She didn’t expect a reaction like this. “Why, Nesta?” He repeated in a softer voice, his eyes showing a hint of hurt.

“I didn’t think anyone would care.” She finally breathed, her face showing Cassian exactly how astonished she was.

“Why on earth would you think that? Elain and Feyre have been beside themselves with worry ever since you left.”

“Well they shouldn’t have been. That note would have told them I left of my own free will.”

This only succeeded in angering Cassian again. “That doesn’t stop them from worrying about you. It doesn’t stop any of us from worrying about you.” His eyes were so intent on hers that she felt regret emerging deep in her soul.

“I just thought it would be easier this way. That you would be better off.” She couldn’t bring herself to place that mask of stone over her features as she would have done before the war. She was too tired and shocked to pretend to be anything but confused and mixed up.

“Come home with me,” he pleaded.


“Because we miss you Nesta. You’re family.”

“I’m Elain and Feyre’s family.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not just theirs, ours. Please.” His eyes were pleading with her as much as his voice.

“There’s no room for me in Velaris. I’m not needed.” She argued, not sure what she was trying to achieve since she technically had no place anywhere else either.

“Of course there’s room for you there. Why on earth would you think any differently?” After a pause he continued in a gentler tone. “Look, you don’t have to stay forever, just come back with me and we can all figure out your next move as a family. If you really want to leave then you can, but let us help you, let us set you up and stay in contact at the very least. Please Nesta.”

“Ok,” she breathed. “Fine, I’ll go back. But you must know that there’s nothing left for me there. I don’t have any purpose there or anywhere.”

Realisation finally dawned on Cassian. “I understand now. It’s the war isn’t it? You had purpose then to keep you going but now it’s over you’re at a loss. I know what that is like Nesta. I know because I go through the exact same thing after every Couldron-damned war we have.” She didn’t know why she was so surprised by that but she was, staring at the warrior with her regret growing with each word he spoke. “We’ll find your purpose, I promise you that, but please don’t scare us like that again.” Anger was still simmering just below the surface of his eyes, but it was clear he didn’t want to risk upsetting her enough that she refused to return with him. Because once those two got into a shouting match it could go very, very wrong.

Nesta eyes began to swim at what a fool she had been. So she simply nodded and went about collecting the few belongings she had carted along with her all those months ago before heading back to Cassian and allowing him to fly her back to the family she didn’t realise was hers.


WARNING: I have a part 2 and a part 2 ½ and I’m not afraid to use them, goshdarnit. Thank you, take care out there, and enjoy.

Steven Universe is a charming, popular show with a quad-polar fandom, and I’m only here to point out what I say is legitimately wrong with this cartoon. Simple enough? Fair enough. Previously, I talked about how their handling of villains has disrupted their focal story. And now, point number 3:


Okay, before I provide attention to our main gem heroes, I thought I’d give their home of Beach City a vocal point to express the diversity they offer and what makes them an essential drive for Steven and the Crystal Gems to protect the Earth by any means. I mean, they offer such valid representation for the show’s world building and can offer plenty of stories to tell to give us that slice of life vibe the show really needed. But I believe, after seeing Beach City time and time again over the course of 4 years, that I can summate its presence in the show with a single- Nay. With two simple yet comprehensible words.

Who cares? 

Whooo CARES?

Thank you, respectable actor Elaine Stritch. Rest in Peace

To continue, don’t get me wrong. Worldbuilding is more than essential for a story like Steven Universe, Berserk, Friendship is Magic, Legend of Zelda, and so on. Whether big or small, expanding a setting is important to giving characters a versatile way to look at their world in a differing light than before. But suffice to say, what world has Steven Universe built for itself?

*A populated province in the East Coast?

*A barn?

*Ancient ruins?

*Distant Gem Territory?

Aye, this troof is gonna be hard to explain. We just have locations, people. That’s it. They’re no special than the mini Galaxies from Super Mario Galaxy 2, only on Wii, Rated E for Everyone. A place can look cool and a population there can bring life to it, but they should have something for the characters to interact with and visibly wonder about what they might get into as they adapt and progress in some way. And by some way, I don’t mean insert plot devices that help make the characters do significant looking things, and I’ll get to that a bit later. But to sum it up, Steven Universe present locations, but those locations lack identity and coordination.

Stick around, Link, I might need your example

I got a short story to tell. True story. And this story provides my reason, above all else, for why Beach City doesn’t hold much water anymore when talking about world building, specifically after the show’s first season (or Full Disclosure).

There’s a comic book TV show called Preacher, premieres Mondays @ 9, only on AMC. Essentially it’s about a criminal turned Priest, possessed with a supernatural power, going on a cross country road trip to find the physical form of God with his his mate who’s also a vampire and his ex-girlfriend. Pretty vivid premise, but see for yourself. The first season however sets up the road trip where the priest, his ex, and vampire friend stay in a small town in Texas to not only introduce them, the power that the priest gets, and the type of humor throughout, but flesh out a few citizens they encounter pretty well in a thematically connected turnabout for ten episodes straight. All seems good.

Up until the entire town loses their minds, after losing all faith in belief, which eventually leads to a methane nuclear sized explosion that wipes out everybody except the three main characters who exited a few scenes before.

Originally posted by nestarearland

The End.

Now, let’s talk relevance. If I ran Steven Universe, and I don’t think I can, and I pulled 👆👆 that on Beach City at season 1′s end. Erase everything you’ve seen, every citizen will be forced to disappear except the major plot oriented characters, basically resetting the structure. If I did that, how much would it change? What would we really lose? The diverse Beach citizens that don’t and can’t do shit against the enemies we’ve see unless they’re forced to get involved in some way which rarely happens? 

You can put as many people of color and as many personalities in your world all you want, but effort should also be put into not just making them NPC levels of value to the point where a reset button wouldn’t put much a dent to the “world building”. The worst part is that it’s not like Batman’s Gotham City or Spider-Man’s New York; places where the villains are plotting while they’re within city walls. Steven Universe’s enemies have to either be brought out somewhere (gem monsters, Lapis) or brought to (Jasper, that red Eye, Aqua and Topaz) Beach City for the place to provide any significant or value. So…

Originally posted by vhspositive

Just saying.

Now if the whole series was like season one with the non “To Be Continued” slice of life episodes, then it would’ve work. Phineas and Ferb, Foster’s Home, and Friendship is Magic has done this well with keeping their main location (The Foster House, Danville, Ponyville, etc.) as their central hubworld for casual stories with a venture outside of them from time to time. I would’ve been okay with Beach City being the spot for Steven and his limitless squad to grow together like Rebecca intended at first. Then I’m reminded that there’s an world expanding story in this, with bigger consequences and threaded arcs, and I’m stuck between investing in the many things they give me, complaining towards full episodes that add up to nothing and went nowhere special, and whining about the lack of reruns it gets on TV compared to Teen Titans GO.

Bottom line, you had/have your comic series to commit to your slice of life genre instead of trying to keep it in the show.

Now, I’m at a disadvantage here. If I want to talk about the actual “SCIENCE FANTASY WORLD BUILDING”, then I’ll have to talk about the Crystal Gems’ involvement in them and I wanted to save that for another day. Luckily, I don’t have to, for SU has unintentionally played itself: when it comes to the Gem oriented locations outside Beach City, they tell but never really show. And turns out I don’t need Link’s example, but Samus Aran’s. Namely, her universe in the Metroid Prime series.

A key element to world building is the control and fun in exploration where you find and somewhat interact with aspects of an environment’s purpose and history while you’re on the go, giving the place more of an identity. Metroid Prime does this well where you journey through different parts of the Galaxy and with your scan visor, you can catalog and figure out the intricacies of the settings, the enemies within them, and info that seem trivial at first, but can offer much in progressing ahead in the game. Note the example before you…

And don’t stare deep into Samus’s blue eyes

Sure it’s an optional part of the game, and you can still trek on with or without having to continuously research the world’s lore, but it offers that versatility where you’re well in control in how to experience the game. Then again, this is a video game, where your skill in figuring things out is the only way to progress anything. What cartoon has this similar level of versatility? I mean, what else?

What else?

Gravity Falls may have stayed in one place, but it gives the characters and audience so much to explore and theorize on. They don’t tackle “everything” the world might have offered (bigfoot), but still give you so much to look out for without ever holding your hand or giving a cliffnotes version on a mystery of theirs. Hell, the fandom was hollering on Tumblr over predicting one of the show’s biggest mysteries being confirmed long before it aired. Hirsh didn’t just give those theory nuts what they wanted, his crew eased us in on how the narrative is taking a turn to someplace different and new without really forcing it on everybody. There was still that enjoyable sense of control that resonated in both the show’s direction and the audience’s experience.

I mean come on, this just oozes the moment of truth

Don’t get me wrong. The crewniverse offer very interesting locations and things that resonate with Gem stuff. My final problem with this is that when I think they might utilize these different places and things, they hold back to sharing but a glimpse of anything the show has plenty of utilizing potential for. Like…

Could this control room present more information about Homeworld’s plans for the gems than just the Cluster? “Probably not, it fulfilled its purpose. Let’s move on.”

What about these drills? Could we personally see how one works, like accidentally reactivate it to see how it functions? “Nah, they’re all dead. Let’s move on.”

Or what about the holes? Could we have some kind of flashback depicting how a gem leaps out the ground? “Nope.” Not even the off col- “NOPE.”

What’s that supposed to be? Is it something important to Homeworld? “We’ll get to that later. Let’s move on.”

Ooh, are there more ships like this the CGs could use for space travel? Maybe spruce ‘em up with Pearl and Peridot’s technical abilities? “Nah, this is all we got and Centipeedle lives there now so… Sorry.”

Man, this place looks cool. Connie might consider this since she handles weapons and might want something new, like armor or throwing weapons. “Look man, this tour is scheduled. You’ve seen it, we’ll get back to it later. Moving right along.” This tour sucks. “You paid for it, my friend.”

Egoraptor said it best: I’m not witnessing an adventure, I’m a guest at their theme park. This is Kingdom Hearts levels of dragging it along, and I know…
“But Monkey Network, they might come back to all that stuff soon. It’s called foreshadowing, you whiner.” To that, I say HA! There’s a huge difference between foreshadowing and giving us cameos. And that is in…


Long story short, if it’s subtle and holds a threatening or vague presence, THAT’s foreshadowing. If it’s already out in the open and is not given a lot of screentime or detail, that’s cameo-ing and waiting for more. The last thing a show should do is hold back and have its audience wait like shoving a secret box in our face, and that’s all Steven Universe has been doing. That’s why so many rant about what’s filler or not. That’s why so many theorize on the most reaching of details. That’s why people proudly growl at what could be the crew’s simple decisions. Because when everything must come back to Beach City, post “Full Disclosure”, exploration can be limited, detail can be limited, and it’ll be up to the audience to speculate/construct the world-building for themselves, making the control and experience for the show feel one sided, therefore UNFAIR. To summarize, I can present the fandom’s frustration…through song.

Like I said, the things I’ve seen offer so much to think about, but Rebecca Sugar sack could’ve done better with presenting them in a better light than a dim mode. The fate of Steven Universe’s future is a mystery to me, and I don’t know what they’re gonna cram in season 5 this fall. All I know is MJ (or Mystery Girl) is fine as fuck and we’re all gonna get something good eventually. My man Ian Jones-Quartey said good world building takes time, and they sure are taking their time.

Originally posted by gameraboy

And we will be waiting, that’s for sure

holding it together

summary: Patton has a crushing encounter with something he loves, and needs a little help from the others to help him stay together.

characters: roman, patton, virgil, logan

warnings: some blood, mentions of violence (not anything serious)

a/n: I got this idea from this post by @patton-logan but it went in a completely different direction than I originally intended, so it’s literally nothing to do with the post (except for a dog) and I apologize for that haha. I’ll write something more upbeat (and relevant) soon, I swear!

Roman couldn’t help but purse his lips, unsure of what to say. However, he was not exactly convinced that saying nothing was the correct line of action, either.

The shoulder of his regal attire was cold with tears; not his own, of course, but Patton’s, who sat in Roman’s lap, clutching at the white garment with his left hand as if it were keeping him alive. His head was tucked under the other side’s chin, and he sobbed desperately into him.

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summary: robert goes on antidepressants

based on a number of conversations with the ever so lovely @rocketdocket. this fic is based on my own personal experience with antidepressants and is by no means true for all people who take medication for mental health issues.


Citalopram 20 mg and 40 mg tablets

What Citalopram is and what it is used for:

Citalopram belongs to the group of so-called SSRIs (selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors) and is used to treat depressive illnesses (episodes of major depression). People who are depressed have lower levels of the substance serotonin in their brain than others. Citalopram may help by increasing the levels of serotonin.

‘It’s been almost an hour,’ Aaron says, slumping back on the sofa and crossing his arms over his chest. A quiz show plays on the television in front of him. ‘Are you sure they got the order?’

‘Yes I’m sure,’ Robert says, settling down on the sofa, handing him a beer. He sits close to Aaron, their knees and elbows touching. It’s a casual closeness that Aaron wouldn’t have believe to be possible a year or so ago.

‘Well where are they then?’ Aaron asks, tugging up the tab on his beer. It snaps off in his hand. ‘Well that’s just bloody brilliant and all.’ He gets up to fetch himself a fresh one.

‘There’s more in the fridge,’ Robert says, taking a sip of red wine from his glass. Aaron can’t understand why he likes that stuff. It tastes like watered-down vinegar. ‘And pass me my phone while you’re up, it’s in my jacket. I’ll give them a call, see where our curry has got to.’

‘What did your last slave die of?’ Aaron grumbles, but extracts himself from the sofa as instructed. He pads over to the dinner table taking Robert’s jacket from the back of one of the chairs and fumbling around in his pockets. When he pulls the phone out, a crumpled slip of green paper falls to the floor. Without thinking, Aaron crouches down to pick it up.

It’s a prescription. Aaron’s chest constricts.

‘What’s this?’ He says, barely managing to keep his tone casual.

Robert looks over his shoulder. When he sees Aaron holding the prescription his face hardens. He’s up from the sofa like a shot, rushing over to Aaron and snatching the paper from his hands. The motion is so sudden that Aaron actually takes a step back.

‘What the hell was that?’ Aaron asks, watching as Robert crumples up the prescription and shoves it into the pocket of his jeans.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘Doesn’t seem like nothing. You practically tore my hand off trying to get it.’

Robert shakes his head, turning on his heal and heading for the staircase. He doesn’t shut Aaron down like this anymore. Not unless something is really wrong. Aaron’s vision clouds with tears as he watches his husband go.

‘Are you ill?’ Aaron asks, his voice cracking. Robert stops in his tracks, one hand rested on the bannister. He turns to face Aaron, who expects him to still be wearing that impenetrable mask he always wears at times like this, but he isn’t. His expression has softened.

‘I’m not ill,’ he says, turning to Aaron. He crosses his arms and uncrosses them again, like he’s unsure what to do with them. ‘Not exactly.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Robert closes his eyes, his expression pinched. He sinks down onto the stairs, one hand massaging his forehead.

‘What’s wrong?’ Aaron demands, his voice far too loud now. Liv can probably hear him over the music that thuds through the floor above them, but in that moment, he can’t make the space in his head to worry about that. ‘What’s so bad that you can’t even tell me about it?’

‘They’re antidepressants,’ Robert says, his voice low and resigned. ‘Citalopram is an antidepressant. The doctor prescribed me it yesterday.’

‘Why?’ It feels like a stupid thing to say, but Aaron can’t help it. Robert has been in counselling for three months now, and he’s seemed okay. He has his moments, they both do, but nothing Aaron would have thought warranted meds.

Robert actually laughs at that. A gruff noise that is supposed to suffice for some kind of answer.

‘You don’t know why?’

‘Of course I know why,’ Robert snaps. His voice is quick and sharp like a slap across the face. ‘My counselor doesn’t know what’s wrong with me. She wants me to get a proper psych consult so she contacted my GP about it. He put me on the waiting list but it’s as long as a piece of string so he gave me the prescription to tide me over until then.’

Aaron feels himself relax slightly. It’s okay. Robert is okay. Well, okay as he always is, anyway. He’s not dying of some kind of terrible ailment that’s so horrific that he decided to keep it from him. This is fine. He’s fine.

‘I’m not going to take them, though.’

‘What? Why not?’ Aaron says, frowning.

‘Because they’re antidepressants. It makes this, y’know,’ Robert waves one of his hands in an abstract motion, ‘a thing.’

‘A thing.’


Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose.

‘You needn’t look so pissed off either,’ Robert says. ‘You probably wouldn’t take them either.’

‘Yes I would.’

‘No, you wouldn’t. You’re stubborn.’

‘Pot, kettle, black.’

Robert brings his feet up onto the bottom step and props his chin up on his hand.  It’s only now that Aaron notices how tired he looks. He looks older, like something is draining his life force.

‘I don’t want any of this to be a thing,’ he says, staring at Aaron’s feet. ‘Like counselling is one thing, and that’s taken me long enough to get used to, but meds? Psych consults? I don’t know if I can do that. It’s too much.’

Aaron crouches down in front of his husband, taking one of his hands in both of his own. It’s cold and clammy, a sign that Robert is far more upset about this than he’s letting on.

‘I don’t know how I got to this point,’ Robert continues, unable to look Aaron in the eye. ‘I don’t know how I spiralled out of control to the point that I can’t trust my own mind anymore. It’s like I have this massive cut on my leg and I don’t remember how I got it but it’s getting all infected and disgusting and it hurts and no one can bear to look at it. That’s how my brain feels right now.’

Aaron takes a moment, running his thumb over the back of Robert’s hand and considering.

‘Would you let them give you antibiotics?’ he asks.

Robert pulls his hand back. ‘What do you mean?’

‘If you did have a big, gross, infected cut on your leg, would you let a doctor give you antibiotics?’

‘It’s not the same thing.’

‘How isn’t it the same thing?’

Robert covers his face with his hands and sighs. ‘It just isn’t.’

‘If you can’t think of reason that it’s different, then it probably isn’t different.’

‘People don’t think you’re crazy if you take antibiotics.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Aaron sighs, trying to fight down his frustration. ‘Who the hell cares? If it’s going to help you feel better than you do now, then who cares?’

‘What if it doesn’t help?’ Robert says, uncovering his face. He’s not crying, because when does Robert ever cry about anything? He just looks resigned. ‘Nothing seems to help.’

‘Then you can come off them again and try something else.’

Robert falls into a silence that is only broken a minute later when the doorbell rings. Aaron gets to his feet. He presses a kiss to his husband’s forehead, feeling relief wash over him when he leans into it.

‘That’ll be the curry, at last,’ he says, giving Robert a small smile, silently trying to convince him that they can carry on as normal in spite of this. ‘Just think about it. We can get your prescription filled first thing tomorrow, if you want. Or the next day. Or the day after that. Just think about it.’

And Robert does.

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  • Lemony Snicket : Ah, heu oui, I will take a... toasted baguette... with a selection of... foie gras and... a Perrier, please.
  • Jake Hix : LEMONY, I am going to reiterate a point that I make to you at least TWICE A WEEK: "all that we have is what is on the chalkboard behind me".
  • Lemony Snicket : ...ah, yes, of course. In that case... I will have a glass of.... How do you say.... Bordeaux? And a crêpe?
  • Jake Hix : ...
  • Jake Hix : ...I have French fries.
  • Lemony Snicket : Yes, I suppose that will suffice yet again. [sigh]
Did I say that she was beautiful? I was wrong. Beauty is too tame a notion; it evokes only faces in magazines. A lovely eloquence, a calming symmetry; none of that describes this woman’s face. So perhaps I should assume I cannot do it justice with words. Suffice it to say that it would break your heart to see her; and it would mend what was broken in the same moment; and you would be twice what you’d been before.
—  Clive Barker, Galilee

THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING THE KLANCE TANGLED AU. I really appreciate all the feedbacks and complements. 

There are some art that I’m working on for the Klance Tangled AU (boat scene, dip kiss, snuggling duckling) but since I’m still in highschool, there’s not a lot of time to make a fully finished piece. I hope my occasional (really messy) sketches will suffice though. 

And though I do enjoy drawing the Klance Tangled AU, I do like to draw other stuff too. I hope that’s ok with you guys. That isn’t to say that I won’t draw anymore of the Klance Tangled AU. And if you guys like it, don’t be shy of making your own Klance Tangled AU related stuff. I don’t own klance or Tangled and we should all have fun making AU related things ^^. 

So anyway thank you for reading my rambling. I know sometimes I write stuff down and I make mistakes and I always worry that I may have worded something wrong. 


Long Story (Bucky x Reader)

Request: Hi there. I would like to request a Bucky Barnes x reader fanfic. Reader is a shy and reserved college student who has moved in with her aunt’s (Pepper Potts) boyfriend due to family and financial issues. While she is there there, the ex-Winter Soldier who is also staying at the Avenger’s Tower starts to take an interest her and attempts to get to know her despite her quiet personality.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader


Originally posted by enochianess

You’re an observer.

You’re the type of person who would rather watch the world, than participate in it. You’d rather listen to a classmate’s speech, then to present one yourself. You would rather watch a romance develop on the screen of your TV, then to develop your own.

Since the age of fourteen, you’ve known that you’ve wanted to be an author. When you talk to people, your words come out as a stuttered, quiet, mess. When you write, your word have a perfect, continuous flow to them. They hold an elegance, that your actual voice could never have.

That’s just who you are. You don’t seek attention or help from others. You seek refugee in your, shy introverted, self; and that’s why today is especially difficult for you.

Your family has never been the most wealthy. With your dad working as the elementary school janitor, and your mom as a grocery store clerk, you’ve always just scraped on by. When the time came for you to attend University, your parents insisted on paying. They never gave you much growing, and you never expected them to, but they wanted to give you an education. They wanted you to live your dream.

And that’s why you’re now standing outside the extravagant Avengers Tower.

Trying to save money on your tuition to New York University, your parents were able to get you to stay with your mother’s sister Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark industries, and girlfriend of Tony Stark himself.

Tony walks up to you, and places his hand on your shoulder. You jump a little at the sudden contact. “Welcome to your new home, kid.” You look down to your shoes, and avoid eye contact. What are you supposed to say? Thanks? There’s no way that could suffice with The Tony Stark. “Whats wrong, starstruck? Or do you have a celebrity crush on your aunts boyfriend?” You whip your head up as a burning blush starts spreading across your face, and see a massive grin on his lips.

“No, no, no.” You wave your hands in a frantic motion. “You’re not my type. Not that you aren’t great and all, but you’re not for me. You’re good looking, but you’re too old for me. Plus you’re dating my aunt, so that’s really weird. I just didn’t know what to say. Do I say thanks? Do I shake your hand? Do you-”

“Whoa there,” Tony’s voice interrupts your crazed rambling.

Rambling, It’s what you did best. 

“Take a breath. I was only kidding.” He lets out an amused laugh, and begins to walk inside the tower. “You’re going to be fun to have around.”

*  *  *

“Your room is just down that hall.” Tony points you to the general area of the hallway, and walks towards the bar. “You should have a couple of days to explore. Most of the team’s on a mission, and Pepper’s in Japan for business.” He raises his glass of whiskey to you. “Looks like if will just be me, you, and Metal Arm for the next little while.”

“Metal Arm?” You raise an eyebrow, and quietly question.

“Yeah,” Taking a large swig of his drink he looks towards you. “He’s just some relic that Cap found.”

Still not sure as to what he’s talking about, you nod your head, and walk towards your bedroom; completely unaware of the set of blue eyes watching.

*  *  *

You decided to stay in your new bedroom for the rest of the night. Just thinking about another sarcastic conversation with Tony made your skin crawl. You hate meeting new people, and the fact that you will have to meet all of the very famous Avengers, that’s petrifying.

You creep out of your room at around 1:00 AM to get something into your rumbling stomach. After about ten minutes, you found the kitchen, and the beautiful fridge in it. Taking the last couple pieces of leftover pizza, you begin to head back to your room.


A quiet voice comes from behind you, making you drop your pizza in shock. Looking around yourself, you try to find the source of the mysterious voice. “Who- who’s there?”

You catch a glimmer of light on a long, lustrous object. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The object comes out of the darkness, and is surprisingly connected to a man.

A very good looking man.

A very good looking man with a metal arm.

A very good looking man with a metal arm who is watching you check him out.

Is this Metal Arm?

You have to say something. You can’t just stand here an look back and forth between his arm and face. ‘Say something’ your brain scolds you.

“You have a Metal Arm.” You mentally slap yourself at your awkward observation.

The man releases an amused chuckle. “Yeah, that’s a long story.” He pulls a hand through his hair, and sends you a small smile. “The name’s Bucky.”

Taking a few steps back, you slowly begin to retreat to your room. “My name’s (Y/N), and I should really, um, go and do my homework.”


A low whistle interrupts Bucky, bringing your attention to the extremely smug looking Tony Stark. “You got Gramps 2.0 to talk? I’m impressed.”

You look take your attention away from the self-satisfied Stark. You look towards Bucky with a look of confusion. “Gramps 2.0?”

“Long story.” Shaking his head, he pushes the nickname aside.

Feeling a wave of confidence, you take a step towards the man who’s temporarily wiped away your shyness. “I’m willing to listen.”

*  *  *

I hope you liked it! It’s currently 1:40 AM, and I’m sorry if this isn’t very good, living that writers block life. Feel free to send in requests! xx

Ok  so I warmend people i’d be writing stuff about this episode for week and I wasn’t lying so here’s another thing.. cause my migraine is going away and I can finally think.

If the show had intended to simply show Daryl protecting any member of the family I think a simple threat might have sufficed. But to have him not only go to the length of attacking and punching him (I forget how many times, Iost count) but to have him make the threat that he did..

(gif by the lovely @dixonscarol)

I mean it dosen’t show everything he says but you remember I’m sure, but the LEVEL of the threat he made was extreme and meant to make a point.

That Carol means more to him than anyone or anything. That ANY harm coming to her, that coming NEAR her, that looking the wrong way at her, would result in death. That was done for a reason. It wasn’t just thrown about randomly. 

That man loves that woman so much, protected her in every possible way and is most likely her catalyst to start moving again.  

It all mattered. It all meant something. Everything happens for a reason. Remember that.

anonymous asked:

So, as someone who is both a witch and a scientist (mineralogy, geology, etc) I often find myself caught in the crossfire of "this kind of rock has x energy!" and "Crystals aren't magic, you dumbass!" I grasp the science behind rocks and minerals, and I also appreciate the metaphysical properties/concepts. I have an internal balance of knowledge vs faith (don't soak water soluble rocks, cinnabar is toxic, etc) but when others bring up the subject I have to pick a side. Do you have any advice?

Well, my advice for just about anyone in the witchcraft community is to take anything that anyone says about anything with a grain of salt. (See that’s a joke because salt is a key ingredient in a lot of spells AND is also a mineral! Ahhh… I kill me.)

When someone says: ‘This stone has x energy,’ they are usually quoting from a book and that book is quoting from a book, which is quoting yet another book, which is probably mis-attributing another quote from another book about a practice that was based on a personal experience but written like it was empirical fact. 

The short version of that is: ‘A lot of metaphysical studies are in a state of flux and no one is the definitive word on that.’

I sit between believing in crystal healing and not believing in crystal healing. 

Do I believe that stones have energy? Of course! The geode that I cracked open at the ren faire, one half of which has been sitting on Evie’s altar and the other half of which belongs to my girlfriend has abundant energy. The piece of brick that I rescued from the demolished ‘adult theater’ while they were tearing it down has energy. The stones that I set into my garden, the one that my friend wears on him at all times, the one that I trip over every time I’m on my way to the dumpster- sure! Totally. 

Does the $300 amethyst specimen that I saw marketed as a healing aid for anxiety have energy? Oh, yeah. Is spending my entire paycheck on it going to heal my anxiety? 

Likely not. 

I generally think that the specification of energies of minerals is a little far-fetched. (And also… exploited, but I’m not going to get into that.) I think it suffices in most situations to say ‘it has an energy, but I cannot say anything further.’ 

One of the important phrases that I have learned in the wide world of Discoursetm is ‘I agree with you partially.’ It is very easy to put these particular issues into sides because the idea that there is a right or wrong answer to everything is comforting to us as humans. But because a lot of the evidence for crystal healing is not quantifiable, taking a partial stance on the subject from the perspective of scientist who knows both sides of the issue is a perfectly understandable answer. 

Care for the Company

Originally posted by thorinkingoferebor


Thorin Oakenshield x Healer!reader ft. The Company + Bilbo + Gandalf

Genre - Fluff, a bit of romance, battle scene

Sequel - Care for Him

A/N: There will probably be a part 2 to this story, I’m loving the middle earth series and am starting to get into the books and movies. A lot of people are criticising me for liking it so late but, to hell with it!

I let out a heart felt cry as I plunged the sword into the Orcs heart, the thick purple blood spurting and pouring over my very hands to my horror but I couldn’t cry about it now.

I pull out my weapon from the lifeless form, turning to face another woe when suddenly I heard Dwalin cry out to me, ‘Y/N! DON’T BE FOOLISH! COME ON!’

I turned to find him and the others climbing up the large trees towards the top, but I turned back at the sound of the mob of Pale Orcs, stalking closer towards me, smirking as their animals growled at me.

‘Y/N!’ I groaned in defeat at the sound of Thorin’s voice this time before sheathing my weapon and running towards the trees, climbing up as high as I could, now standing just next to Thorin who pushed me back with Balin.

I watch as the pac stalk closer, and I gasped as I finally recognise who the leader of the pack was. It was Azog the Defiler, the Orc that had beheaded Thror, Thorin’s Grandfather.

I watched as the realisation hit Thorin, his eyes widening in horror, ‘It cannot be.’ I watch with a heavy heart before I shriek as Gandalf threw down large pine cones which were set alight now.

I watched as the others threw them to build a wall of fire around us, following suit, only for the the tree to bend over the mountain side due to the weight of the company. I hear Balin scream as his grip breaks from the tree, sending him flying, only for me to grab his wrist in time, pulling him back up.

I look up in time to find Thorin on his feet now, his sword drawn and an oaken branch in his grasp. ‘No …’ I whisper as I watch him run and scream towards the monstrous creature, Bilbo screaming after him, ’THORIN NO!’

I watch as he is thrown to the floor before being bitten into by the wargs into the rocky walls of the hillside, almost lifeless.

I get a good grip on the trunk before standing to my feet, pulling out my weapon and running towards one of the Orcs who stood before our leader, screaming as I knocked him over and drove my sword right into his heart, standing to attention as I stood before Thorin’s now lifeless body.

‘Get back you filthy beasts!’ I scream as they begin to smirk and chuckle at the sight of me, but before I can even take a step forward towards any of them, the company charge in, all attacking the Orcs as one. I watch in shock before turning to the lifeless leader behind me, ‘Thorin?! Thorin?!’ 

I shake him slowly, tapping his cheek gently only to find him not moving a single inch at my actions. I look around only to scream at the sight of a large eagle swooping in and throwing an orc off of the face of the cliff.

‘Y/N, we must go,’ I hear as Bilbo comes to my side instantly, tugging at my hand but I retract it, ‘But what about-‘

I silence myself as I watch in awe as one of the large magnificent eagles carefully pick up Thorin as if his body were as fragile as a newborn before lifting in flight. Bilbo and I cling to each other, screaming as an eagle drops us onto another, making sure we are secure on its back.

I look towards Thorin, breathing heavily as he still remained unconscious. Hoping that he was okay.

I jump off of the back of the eagles back instantly before it even touches the ground, running over towards the wizard as he stood over Thorin’s body, muttering something under his breath, ‘Gandalf is he alright? Tell me he is he okay!’’

He turned to me with a nod of his head quickly and a smile that tugged at his lips. I sigh deeply at this in such relief like a great weight had been lifted from , Bilbo letting out a chuckle as he just ruffles my hair.

I smile at this, turning back to Thorin who is helped to his feet by Dwalin and Kili, suddenly throwing their arms of help off of him as he looked up in search of someone before falling upon me, ‘YOU!’

I froze instantly, Bilbo slowly sidling away towards Gandalf as Thorin bellowed, ‘What were you doing lass? You nearly got yourself killed!’

I looked towards Gandalf and the others for help but they all were frozen too, some giving their leader glares of annoyance and others turning away. I just saved his life for all godamn sakes, and not even that would suffice?

He muttered in a dark tone suddenly, causing me to freeze ‘Did I not say you would be a burden?’

I allowed the words to sink in, the tears suddenly springing at my eyes, ‘That you could not survive in the wild? That you had NO place amongst us at all for the likes of a woman.’

I bit my lip, trying to hold my tears in as he stared me dead on, looking just over his shoulder before he whispered, ‘I’ve never been so wrong in all my life.’ In a quick stride, before I could register what he had said, he embraced me warmly and tightly.

I heard the company cheer dimly, unable to comprehend what was going on. I smiled gently, my tears falling as I wrapped my own arms around his waist slowly.

Thorin pulled away slowly, rubbing his hands up and down my arms in a comforting manner, looking at my body as if for any injuries before he looked back to my eyes searchingly, ‘I am so sorry that I doubted you Y/N.’

‘No-No, I would’ve doubted myself too. I-I’m not like any of you, at all! I’m a healer. Not a fighter, nor am I a burglar …’ Gandalf chuckled at this knowing I had aimed that at him, Thorin smiling before he sighted the Lonely Mountain.

I turned and smiled at this instantly, knowing that the other dwarfs were finally a step closer to getting their home back. I froze as I found Thorin still holding onto my hand, squeezing it tightly at the sight of his home. I looked up at him at this but he only gave me a small smile before looking away.

We made our way down the rock face, hurrying down as the sun rose up, but we needed to set up camp and rest. The company were shaken and many were wounded badly, and soon enough already as if the day had fast forward, the sun was setting on another day.

As the dwarves set up, I pulled out my medicine satchel, pulling out all sorts of different medicines that I would need before calling out, ‘Okay dwarfs and wizards alike, listen up! I need to take a look at you one at a time to see your injuries and make sure their taken care of. Balin we can start with you.’

One by one, I took care of the wounds of each of the dwarfs and Gandalf, some hissing at the dabbing of ointments, some sighing in relief of the cooling creams or some cringing in disgust at the vials of medicine they had to chug down.

I flinched as Kili hissed and moved as I poured over his arm an ointment that would make the open wound heal faster, instantly beginning to wrap it with bandages. ‘He’s very fond you, you know?’

I faltered slightly in my movements but recovered, inquiring, ‘Who?’ Kili just smiled at me, shaking his head, ‘You know exactly who. He just can’t keep his eyes off of you.’

He nodded behind me and I turned to see that indeed, it was true, Thorin was watching me from afar as he stood on watch before turning away to look out into the forest. I turn back to Kili, ‘Your just being modest …’

‘I know my Uncle Y/N. The way he looks at you, I’ve never seen him look at anyone else like that. He really does care for you.’ I just shook my head, still denying the fact that he would accept me for who I was before Kili lifted my chin forcefully, ‘Give yourself some credit Y/N, and allow yourself to be loved. You and Thorin deserve it more than anyone of us.’

I look away from him as he just squeezed my hand gently before hobbling away to sit beside his older brother. I sighed softly to myself, running a hand through my tangled, now curly mane of hair before turning back to Thorin who was watching from the corner of his eye.

Oh, Y/N what are you getting yourself into.

As the night went on, I decided to let the others rest, taking up some of the duties for the night. I made a hot broth and brought out large loaves of bread, warming them over the fire before serving large portions for all the dwarves after such a long day.

I handed them out one by one, all of them gobbling it down as quickly as possible to fill their empty stomachs. ‘Thank you Lass, your an angel,’ Dwalin said as I took up the now empty bowls, giving me a smile as I gave him a curt nod in return.

All the dwarves got ready for bed as I stoked the fire, watching as it flickered and flared at the skies above before looking to Thorin who groaned aloud, moving his arm back and forth in what looked like pain.

I walked over to him slowly, standing behind him as I watched him. ‘Thorin, let me have a look at those wounds. I know-’ I said before he could open his mouth and protest, ‘You don’t want to hurt your stupid pride by getting checked out by a healer, but seriously, I would rather you hurt than die of an infection.’

He chuckles at this, shaking his head slowly before beginning to untie the top of his tunic, making me freeze, ‘Um what-’

‘Well you want to look at my wounds don’t you? Better to examine them properly right?’ He says with a smirk, as he finally unties the ties, going to lift his arms but I stop him, not wanting him to tear the wound anymore than it already had.

I remove it gently from his body, gulping when I sighted his sculpted body. His chiseled chest and broad shoulders making me gulp I shook my head slightly, wanting to remain in my quiet manner as I saw the two large bite marks, one on his chest and the other just above his pelvis.

I place my thumbs firmly around the puncture marks, pressing them as Thorin instantly flinched. I shook my head at this, ignoring his cries I inspected the wounds, ‘Thanks to your stubbornness, its become swollen, it looks like an infection is beginning to set in …’

‘Lucky me,’ I looked up at him as he stared down at me intently but I coughed lightly, hiding my blushing cheeks. ‘Come with me …’

I took his hand in mine, also grabbing my satchel and leading him into the forest, his grip tight on my hand as I helped him carefully over rocks and logs. Finally we reached the river, helping him lean against a large boulder.

I pulled out some different ointments and vials, I also brought out two different rolls of bandages and some cloth as he just chuckled, ‘Not trying to poison me now are you, lass?’

I gave him a pointed look as I dipped the cloth into the lake water before dabbing his wounds, allowing him to wince every once in a while and remain silent from then on. I poured some ointment and cleanser onto a separate piece of cloth, looking up at him, ‘This may hurt, Thorin.’

He nodded before I quickly placed the cloth to the wound, hearing him hiss and cry out, clasping my wrist tightly and firmly. He pulled through as I stitched him up, and after many grunts and cries, I sighed, wiping the sweat from my brow, ‘The worst is done now.’

He also sighed in relief, chuckling under his breath as I bandaged his chest and arm, making sure it was comfortable for him to move around. ‘Now you can’t be swinging your sword about all the time, you need to stretch it every once in a while, and remember, if it starts to burn or feel uncomfortable, come to me and I will tend to it. Don’t go going to any of the others for advice, except for Oin of course!’ 

I said all this with my back turned to him, washing out the blood stained and medicine smelling cloths in the lake waters, halting my movements when I felt his hand placed on my back, rubbing soothing circles. Even through the tunic and shawl, the heat of his roughened hand sent shivers down my spine, making me turn to find his face ever so close to mine, his forehead pressing against mine.  

I looked into his hooded eyes slowly, my hand dropping the cloth and reaching his jaw, my fingers threading through his beard gently. I felt my erratic heart beat boom through my ears, it was a surprise that Thorin couldn’t hear it. Just as his nose grazed my, sending chills down my spine, closing my eyes as he continued to come closer to me. 

Suddenly, there was a cry of my name that rang through the silence. I pulled away instantly, turning to see Ori holding out his arm which was now covered with fresh blood, shocking me,  ‘Could you please bandage my wound? Dori was trying to tighten it and it seems that the stitches have ripped!’ 

I turned back to Thorin who was still staring at me before I stood to my feet, ignoring the wanting feeling to want nothing more than to turn around and kiss him right in front of the innocent dwarf. But I didn’t. After cleaning him up, the three of us returned to the company in an awkward silence, Ori waddling off to his sleeping mat. 

I turn to Thorin who I find standing behind me, giving me a grim smile, ‘Thank you for what you did Y/N, it was very kind of you to do so.’ I return his smile instantly, nodding, ‘Of course, its no trouble at all.’ 

He looks like he wants to say more, and I allow him to run his fingertips over my jawline gently, sending shivers down my spine gently before he stops. Turning away he mutters softly, and coldly as he returns to his leader-like self again, ‘Goodnight.’

In defeat I sigh, turning away and whispering to the night almost, ‘Good night.’ 

there comes a point where saying “i’m so deeply sorry, i’m just [majority group] and ignorant :(” becomes insufficient after youve said it a million times and been told a million times what you’ve been doing wrong. it’s an easy way out in that it sounds like a genuine apology but it denies any actual responsibility– you’re chalking it up to an inherent facet of your identity.

the point is, “i didn’t know better because i’m x” suffices as an explanation the FIRST time you fuck up in a specific department, BEFORE you were told what you were doing wrong, but the second and third and fourth times, it gets tired.

Of Bad Posts

Oft in the browsing of Tumblr the gentleblogger may come across a post that is Bad. There are severall kinds of Bad Posts: there is the Bad Post that is wrong in fact or in spirit; there is the Bad Post that is harmful; there is the Bad Post that is right in spirit and yet wrong in its facts; and there is the Bad Post that is right, and yet grateth on the reader’s nerves. 

I shall not detail the proper reaction for each of these cases. Let it suffice to say that, if you have patience to correct and recorrect incorrect facts, it is no ill to correct a post that is well-meaning and yet wrong; an it hurt you not, it is best to take up arms against a harmful post; and the Bad Post that is right and yet an annoyance must simply be ignored. 

anonymous asked:

How would the ut/us/uf skelebros react if they found out their s/o was trans and they didn't say anything about it until then cause they were scared they wouldn't be accepted or they'd be mistreated or that they'd break up with them for being trans (it's kinda something im dealing with, if my family knew I was trans I'd get kicked out and I'm terrified that I'll get judged for who I am and gender dysphoria is kicking my ass rn so this would be appreciated, I hope you have a good day)

I hope that you have a good day as well!  I am so sorry that you’re having problems with this.  I try to be as well-informed as I can, but I cannot begin understand the struggles you have to face myself, so if I get anything wrong or say something rude by accident please correct me so I may do better in the future!

Sans:  Gender really isn’t a huge deal for monsters.  There aren’t exactly any uniform secondary sex characteristics.  There aren’t even primary sex characteristics you can confidently say they all have.  And anybody can create a child with anybody, and either party can carry it.  A good chunk of monsters don’t identify as either.  He’s a skeleton, anything more than bones he has to form from raw magic.  So suffice is to say, the monster concept of gender in relation to body is extremely malleable, and shaky at best.  He’s totally fine with this, he just wants you to be comfortable.  He is surprised that humans make such a big deal out of all of that, and does everything he can to shield you from that shit.

Papyrus:  DID SOMEBODY SAY MAKEOVER?!  He might slip up a few times out of habit, but he’ll apologize and correct himself immediately.  It doesn’t take him too long, and then he is the guardian of your pronouns, gently correcting anybody who gets it wrong with an arm around your shoulders.  He’s mostly trying to help with your dysphoria, getting you the cutest new wardrobe!!  There might be short shorts with the word ‘juicy’ on the butt, as it is his firm belief that they look good on everybody.  You should probably make sure he doesn’t get too carried away.

Red:  “oh… neato?”  He doesn’t mind either way either, until people give you shit anyway.  Then he’s up in arms, but aside from that he doesn’t think much else of it.  He does the same as Sans, helping you out as much as he can, and accepting you just as you are, always.  Hey, if he’s dating you he’s already smitten, and what you call yourself will never change that. 

Edge:  “A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD SMELL AS SWEET, MY BELOVED.  …I CAN STILL CALL YOU THAT, RIGHT?  OK, GOTCHA.”  He doesn’t really get what the big deal is, but he gives it a lot of pomp and circumstance, because he’s a drama queen like that.  He’s taking you out for new clothes too, though his trip includes a lot more spiked belts and ripped black fabric than short shorts with salacious sayings in inappropriate places.  And he is your staunchest protector.  Once he gets your pronouns down he is jumping down the throat of anybody who gets them wrong by accident.  Call him off, he means well, he’s just trying to show you how supportive he is.  With extreme force.  The best way to show your support!!

Blue:  “BUT OF COURSE, DATEMATE!  I WILL CALL YOU ANYTHING YOU LIKE!!  I AM SORRY THIS HAS PRESENTED YOU WITH SUCH PROBLEMS!  PLEASE, IS THERE ANYTHING I COULD DO TO HELP YOU?!”  He doesn’t slip up, not even once.  When somebody is rude he doesn’t react with open agitation like Red does, nor Edge’s violence, not Papyrus’s boisterous support, and not Sans’ subtle correction with a hint of threat.  He’ll be gentle at first, but if it continues…. UNLEASH THE SALT.

Honey:  He reacts more or less like Sans and Red.  Unless you want to turn this into a big deal, but the way you explain it, it sounds like you’d rather this be handled calmly and quietly.  You’re still you, he’s still in love with you, he’s just got to change around some nicknames if you want.  And he isn’t afraid to unleash THE SALT like Blue does either.