#my laptops slow & i lost the original version i made of this :'') oh well :''') i love & hate making things

[leonisandmurex]

Her wedding may of taken place on dreary November's day but Queen Elizabeth's bridal gown, designed by Norman Hartnell, was inspired by the famous Botticelli Primavera painting; ⚘ Primavera the personification of Spring ⚘

#Primavera #Botticelli #a fave painting <33 #Norman Hartnell #Royal fashion #Art #Queen Elizabeth ii #BRF #Royal Family #British royals #my edit #royal fashion #my laptops slow & i lost the original version i made of this :'') oh well :''') i love & hate making things

[jared-19-cant-reid]

A Study In Behavior: Chapter 1

A Study In Behavior (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Obsession

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.8K

Series Summary: When you signed up for Professor Reid’s class, you were expecting a low effort but interesting class to fill your psychology elective credit. Instead, your fascination with the professor leaves you spending more time than you’d expected in office hours. 

Chapter Summary: A strange dream and an unusual professor make today’s lecture much more interesting than you thought it would be.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, cursing, mentions of anxiety, suggestive language, implied age gap.

A/N: I’m planning on making this an eventual smut slow burn, since this is one of my favorite tropes and I want to make it a Realistic daydream lmao. This chapter is focused on introducing you to the world, reader, and this version of Spencer. Lots of potential here, I already have a million different ideas of how this should go... as always dms and asks are open!

~

The pattering of rain on the tin roof seemed to crescendo, a million drummers tapping out a perpetual drumroll on steel drums above your head. You’d always complained you couldn’t hear yourself think with all that noise, but you missed it despite yourself when you left Seattle for college. You were pulled away from that brief moment of self awareness by the touch of a cold hand, clutching yours as if you might be snatched away at any moment if the grip were to loosen.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a bed you knew all too well. A bed you’d spent too many hours in, slept too many nights in, and yet was not your own. Turning your head to the right, you took in the sight of your sleeping mother, her expression of serenity contradicted by the deep creases in her face, betraying the frown that she wore most of her waking life. Your gaze trailed down to your hand in hers; her knuckles were turning white from her tight grip, but you didn’t feel any pain. 

Laying next to her, you watched her face for what felt like hours as her chest rose and fell in the lazy patterns of slumber, too afraid of waking her with your movement to breathe. She almost looked happy like this. Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud beeping sound. You looked around for the offending fire alarm, but as you scanned the ceiling it began to dissolve before your eyes, the grip on your hand loosening until you broke free from the scene fully.

~

You opened your eyes with a start as you sat up quickly, feeling out of place in your own room. You were a painting placed in the wrong section of a museum, an unintentional imposter. Nails digging into your comforter, you tried in vain to slow your shallow breaths as you looked around wildly for something to remind you of where you were, of who you were. 

Your eyes skipped from your stack of  records from your childhood leaning casually against the wall beside the record player on your desk, to the stacks of books watching over you from the top of your bookshelf, unable to fit on the shelves but too close to your heart to part with. Your gaze finally settled on the floor, taking in the mess you’d been meaning to clean up for days now. 

As you returned to your body, you could no longer ignore the blaring of your alarm, groaning as you reached for your phone on the nightstand. A glance at the screen had you shooting out of bed. Shit, I have to be at class in 20 minutes. You got up, muttering to yourself about how 8 A.M. classes should be considered cruel and unusual punishment, and maneuvered around your clothes strewn across the floor. 

As you raced to your closet, your eyes scanned the clothes you owned, speeding through mental images of a million combinations before giving up and reaching for your comfort clothes. You pulled on the green high waisted cargo pants that you’d owned since high school. Nobody to impress in this class anyway, you reasoned, grabbing the fitted white crop top that your friend had embroidered your name on. 

You tore through the apartment in the most violent and rushed performance of a morning routine the world had ever seen, only half trying to keep quiet for the sake of your neighbors. Hair tangled between your fingers and makeup was swiped on haphazardly as you struggled to make yourself presentable, cursing at the time and throwing random belongings in your bag.

Calling out a goodbye to your roommate only to be met with silence, you realized that in your frenzy you had forgotten that no sane college student would willingly be up at this hour. Shaking your head as you rushed out of your building, you mused that you’d just gotten all your stupid mistakes for today over with quite efficiently. 

Three years of mediocre dorm experiences had left you desperate for a change, and luckily your now-roommate Jordan volunteered to split the rent for the 2 bedroom you now called home. You’d both agreed to ignore whatever ghost stories scared off previous residents and earned you a fair price for a decent place close to campus; ghosts would just add a little intrigue to your domestic life, you’d joked. 

Checking the time once more, you cursed under your breath and broke out into a run. God, I should work out more, you thought as your lungs began to burn, I wouldn’t stand a chance in a zombie apocalypse. Racing through campus, you finally reached the doors of the lecture hall that held your class… which had started three minutes prior. You tried to catch your breath before opening the door, cringing as you heard the professor pause mid-lecture. 

You tried not to meet anyone’s gaze as you quickly made your way to a seat. The first one you could find was in the third row-- close enough to the front to make out the facial expressions of your professor, who had continued his train of thought after you entered, choosing to ignore you in favor of finishing his idea. 

As you got settled and tuned into the lecture, you realized the professor was still reviewing the syllabus. Pulling it up on your laptop, you looked at the top to remind yourself of his name: Dr. Spencer Reid. Finally looking up, your mind went blank. Oh. Not only was your professor way younger than you’d expected, he was... well, attractive. Thats’s a reasonable objective assessment, right? You knew he was just as knowledgeable as older professors-- you’d chosen this course for its fantastic reviews from previous students-- but his youth was a welcome change from the dinosaurs you were so used to in the neuroscience department. 

As you studied him, you only became more sure in your original assessment; he was tall, with tousled brunet hair and a face that was… well, unfair. You weren’t surprised to catch a few other girls unabashedly staring at him, clearly drooling over the man as he spoke animatedly about his favorite parts of the course. 

You shook yourself-- this man was your professor. You shouldn’t think about how attractive he is, it’s unprofessional. You also shouldn’t look at his hands the way you are right now, following them as he gestured along with his words you still weren’t paying attention to. You definitely shouldn’t think about what those hands could do. 

Oh my god, snap out of it, you reprimanded yourself, you can’t afford to spend the semester fantasizing about your professor, focus on the class! You finally tuned in to the lecture, catching the end of what sounded like a tangent about the difference between triggers and stressors. For the rest of the class, you listened intently, drawn in by Professor Reid’s clear excitement about the topic. 

Your efforts to ignore your professor’s appearance were somewhat successful, but as you listened to him speak passionately about the value of profiling as a tool for certain types of criminal investigations, you knew you were done for. His excitement about sharing his knowledge left you fighting back a smile, watching intently as he gestured wildly. You’d always liked listening to fellow nerds, eagerly basking in the pure delight beaming from their faces as they ranted about their subject of interest.

You sighed internally, preparing yourself for a semester of unreasonable dedication to this class, which was meant to be your chill psych elective to leave you more time to spend in the lab. It’s not like this topic wasn’t interesting to you, it was just that you weren’t expecting to be obsessed with it-- or more accurately, the man teaching it.

Before you knew it, the class was over. Professor Reid told everyone to finish the assigned reading by next class in preparation for a discussion, dismissing the class and walking over to his desk. You gathered up your belongings and the remnants of your dignity before slowly making your way to the exit, lost in thought about the overlap between your field and his. 

Your feet changed course before you could stop to think about what you were doing. When you tuned back in, you were horrified to find that you were walking towards Professor Reid. Right when you were about to turn around and try to escape without further embarrassment, you were stopped by his curious but friendly gaze. Ignoring your inner voice’s screams of horror, you composed yourself and made your way over to his desk. 

He spoke before you could, greeting you with a small smile and a polite “how can I help you?”

“Hi! Um, I just wanted to come apologize for being late today. I promise, it’s really unlike me, and I just don’t want you to think that I don’t care about your class or anything, because it seems really cool so far and I’m so interested in seeing how this could apply to my research and I was only really late because of this dream I had-”

You stopped before going into detail, saving yourself from your nervous rambling, and he spoke your name hesitantly. Your confusion must have been apparent on your face, because he looked at your chest, clearly having made the connection from the word embroidered on it. The devil on your shoulder whispered that his eyes had lingered there longer than they needed to, but you dismissed that thought quickly. 

“There’s no need to apologize, as long as you don’t make a habit of it we should be fine,” he reassured you, “and judging from how well you paid attention today, I have no doubt you’ll more than make up for it next class in the discussion.”

You bit back a smile at his praise, shocked he’d noticed you at all. You thanked your lucky stars he’d interpreted your staring as interest in the class, rather than the glaring sign of attraction that it would easily be identified as in any other setting. You quickly nodded, thanking him for his understanding and promising it wouldn’t happen again before exchanging goodbyes as you turned and walked out of the room. 

Bursting out of the lecture hall, you finally filled your lungs with air fully, trying to regain some sense of control over your feelings. As you walked to the library to study, your mind wandered back to Professor Reid. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way, what’s the harm in a little daydreaming? You decided you could live with a harmless crush. Keeps things interesting, you thought. Stepping into your castle of books, you pushed the events of the morning to the back of your mind, but one thought lingered: This is going to be one hell of a semester.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

[ceescedasticity]

SFear Supplementals

I decided I'm not going to post any SFear supplementals on AO3 until the next chapter of Collateral has gone up, and anyway the fandom is... preoccupied... at the moment, but I did finish some stuff. Obviously will make zero sense without the main fic.

Supplemental #1: Reunion in the Land of Mist and Glowworms

When the sensation of being watched snapped back into place, Martin startled so badly he dropped a steel imp out the window directly on top of a hydrogen imp, and they both vanished into colored polygons.

"I'll just go get that grist for you," Peter said, and swooped out the window.

Martin let him go. The feeling wasn't as strong as it was in the Changed world, probably no worse than an average day in the Archives, but it was much more than anything he'd felt since the tunnels whited out around him, and he couldn't help but hope.

The two remaining steel imps were still busily destroying furniture, but it wasn't like he had any emotional connection to the strange little mock-lighthouse the Game had left him in. (Some of the furnishings were oddly reminiscent of childhood. That wasn't a plus.) The only thing he couldn't afford to lose was the laptop. He grabbed that and made for the stairs to the roof.

It wasn't a very tall mock-lighthouse, but it was the best vantage point around. There wasn't a lot to see, apart from a glimpse of the nearest "consort" village, and mist, and as always the eerie light of the glowworms in the sky. (What were they even hanging from?)

And… a spot of sickly green glow, on the other side of a hill, the opposite direction from the village.

It might have been wiser to be concerned, but…

Slamming the 'lighthouse' door open on the way out annihilated another imp, which he couldn't even feel bad about at this point. He circled the side of the building away from Peter and made for the hill at a run.

(There had been another ice ogre roaming around, but it seemed fairly slow. This should be fine.)

He saw the glowing green… Eyesprite before the human figure accompanying it, but Jon called, "Martin!" at almost the same time, and then Martin was skidding down the hill and then they were hugging. The laptop made it more difficult, but who cared.

The Eyesprite stared at them from three meters away.

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Jon said, into his shoulder. "I was, ah, I lost consciousness for a little while after entry. Well, for several hours."

Martin pulled back, alarmed. "Are you okay?" Jon didn't look hurt — possibly a little manic, but not bad. A little more… Beholding-y than he'd looked in the tunnels, but much less than the post-apocalyptic standard. "Was it because of the fears being weaker?" He'd been a little worried about that—

"No," Jon said. "Well, yes. Partially. I mean — that's about whether it's because of Beholding being weaker. Whether I'm okay is yes. It's an adjustment, and Knowing is, uh, complicated, but— I'm okay." He smiled. "More okay than I've been in a while, I think. It's sort of a long story — the short version is that Skaia filled in the, the holes the Eye's weakening left, and that's had some complications but— It's good."

"That—" Martin stopped himself. Yes, the Eye was the devil they knew and Skaia the devil they didn't, but if Jon thought this was better and was glad about it Martin didn't have to push him now. "I'm glad."

Jon had been… slightly hopeful, when they'd discussed the Ritual of Skaia, back in the tunnels — but mostly desperate. His pitch for this alternative had focused on removing the Entities into a different pocket dimension and trapping them there, rather than unleashing them into the multiverse. He'd admitted it was more of a gamble than Annabelle's plan, and involved all of them jumping into the pocket dimension, too, and that was meant to be survivable in a successful ritual but there were no guarantees — and he'd all but begged them to do it anyway.

(It hadn't been too hard a sell, once it became evident that there really was a Ritual of Skaia and Jon wasn't suffering an overdue psychotic break but really had picked up something out of the Hilltop Road rift. Nobody had actually liked Annabelle's plan. This… had potential.)

(Martin had asked Jon if he thought he could survive this. Jon said he didn't know, but he could live with it.)

He was really hopeful, now. Like he actually thought things might turn out okay.

"I'm glad," Martin repeated, and hugged him again. Jon sighed, and leaned into the embrace.

Then he said, "We're about to be attacked by some sort of ogre. If you don't have any moral objections, I'll just destroy it."

"Oh, for—" The first ice ogre that showed up had trapped him on the roof for over two hours before Peter got annoyed and (probably) threw it into the Lonely. "Yes, get rid of it. Wait, you can still smite things?"

"If I Ask underlings what they are — ask imps or ogres, at least — they immediately dissolve into grist."

"Convenient." Martin didn't want to hunt underlings but he was really not a fan of underlings.

"Quite."

The smiting was much less dramatic than avatar-smiting had been — like Jon said, just a question and immediate disappearance. Unsurprisingly Jon looked more… Beholding-y while doing it, though far from the worst Martin had seen him.

The Eyesprite stared at them from three meters away.

"The, um… some of the, uh, eye cloud looked like they had funny pupils?" Martin ventured as Jon collected the grist. "Like a, um…"

"A stylized sun," Jon said. "Yes, that's the Light Aspect symbol. I hadn't noticed that before, but it's not surprising. There's a bit of a… territorial struggle going on in there."

A territorial struggle in his head? That didn't really fit with Martin's definition of okay, but fine. "Is that your Aspect? Mine's Blood, which according to the sprite has something to do with connections between people, but still."

"And Light has to do with information and knowing things," Jon said dryly. "And supposedly luck, although I don't think I got much of that part."

"Ah. Ouch."

"It does sound better than Blood, though. Glad you were able to get something useful out of your sprite."

"I noticed yours doesn't seem very, uh, talkative…"

"Well, not at the moment— Oh, Christ."

The Eyesprite was staring at them from one meter away.

"Back off," Jon ordered, and it drifted back a few feet. "Sorry. Is it making you feel too… beheld?"

"Not too bad. Though I suppose I have a fairly high tolerance by now." Hmm. "Mine got, uh, quite a bit less… Lonely-feeling after it, er…"

"Turned into Peter Lukas," Jon supplied. "Sorry, I took a look at how everyone was doing after I woke up. I could have tried to skip you, but…"

"I don't mind," Martin assured him.

"There wasn't too much detail."

"Really, it's fine. You said you looked at everyone, was everyone—"

"Peter," Elias — Jonah — interrupted, "is right on the other side of that hill, fighting the sprite instinct to come and talk to all of us."

Martin flinched violently; Jon looked sick, but immediately snapped "Not that one!" and the sprite went back to just being an Eye.

"Has it been doing that the whole time?" Martin asked, horrified.

"Not the — the whole time, it's, it's been trying out other people." Though he was still clearly shaken, Jon glared at the sprite, which… possibly looked chastened. "It hasn't been him for quite a while, actually, I thought it had gotten the point."

"Not something you can Know?"

"Well, I could try, but I couldn't verbalize it without doing a whole statement about it. Knowing is… complicated."

Huh. Well, they probably wanted to avoid that. "Maybe it wants to play mind games with Peter?"

"Not that Peter's very good at them," Jonah said smugly — not as Elias, this time, but definitely Jonah. It wasn't as much of a kick in the chest for Martin — different face, different voice despite the same way of speaking — but Jon looked just as sick.

"Don't. Be. Jonah," Jon snapped, and glared until the sprite went back to an Eye.

"Yeah, that's looking likely. Just a minute." Martin jogged back up the hill, and, yeah, Peter was hovering (figuratively and literally) just on the other side. "Peter, just… go away."

If Peter wanted to talk to Jonah again, too, it evidently wasn't enough to outweigh the desire not to be near anyone. Martin didn't have to say another word before Peter disappeared into the mist at high speed.

When Martin got back to Jon, the Eyesprite was still just an Eye. "Okay! That seems to be taken care of for now."

"For now," Jon said. "It's… I haven't tried to Know this, but this one insisted on following me when I left my planet. It's possible they can't go too far from us. In which case it will be near… your sprite again, and I need to get it to turn into something or it will upset everyone who isn't used to putting up with Beholding anyway…"

"It can find someone other than Jonah," Martin said firmly. "Come on, let's go back to the… 'house'." He offered a hand, and Jon took it, and they started up the hill. "I was going to ask, you said you checked on everyone? Melanie and Georgie and Basira, they're…?"

"When I checked they were all alive and unhurt and… no more out of their depth than we are, I think. Also, uh, I don't know if I managed to explain how I was filling out the roster to get players for all the Entities?"

"You… tried." No one had asked when Jon originally said they didn't need to scrape up nine more people somehow, and by the time someone had asked he'd been half in a trance and only intermittently responsive. "You said something about statements and contracts?"

"Yes. What that means is— No, wait, this is going to be a long story, so first—" Jon stopped, and turned, and caught Martin's face in his hands, and smiled. "I love you, Martin. I'm so glad we got this chance."

"I love you, Jon," Martin said, and kissed him. "You got us this chance."

#not my medium not my genre #other fic #crossover classpects

[englandsgray]

Sherlolly Self-Interviews 2020

Well hi 👋

Ignoring the internal image of Gilderoy Lockheart smiling smugly while flashbulbs pop and saying ‘In my autobiography, Magical Me...’ 🙈😆 I shall take the opportunity of this lovely event to introduce myself as a writer of Sherlolly fanfiction on AO3...

I am English and somewhere over 30.  I watched the show as it aired, and lost my heart as quickly to Molly Hooper as to Sherlock Holmes.  The kiss is British television history.  Series 4 is my favourite.  Moriarty on the beach is life.  The Holmes brothers break my heart every time.

I am extremely lucky to have been provided some questions to answer here by @ohaine and @mybrainrots - huge, huge love and thanks to these two lovelies, and not just for this.  I admire you both so much as writers, and your support means the world to me ❤️ Thanks too, to @sherlollyappreciationweek!

Where did you begin to write, and have you written for other fandoms?  I wrote my first fanfic when I was eleven years old - a 100 page ramble about The Monkees.  Oh yes.  Then in 2018, I fell for the characters of the Disney Pixar film Cars and began writing and publishing.  So far so random!  Writing in this fandom sprang from binge-watching all four series of Sherlock during lockdown.  I remembered reading Louise Brealey talking about being disappointed Molly didn’t get chance to ‘roundly kick Sherlock’s arse’ and agreeing with her wholeheartedly.  That, over a few weeks, turned into my first fic - Who You Really Are.  

You’re a recent (and welcome!) arrival to the Sherlolly ship, and I was wondering if writing in an established, less active than it used to be fandom has been a challenge?   Thank you, firstly.  My experience of this fandom has been incredibly positive - the sense of welcome has been wonderful.  I will admit I was terrified posting the first fic - there are hundreds of times more stories posted daily in the Sherlock fandom as in the one I had some experience of.  But I needn’t have worried, it’s been a blast.  I will also admit, that it’s no small thing to be surrounded by such brilliant writing and the long-standing passion which goes with it.  But I find that inspiring in itself, and I’m very glad to be here - how supportive the fandom are makes me feel like I always have been!       

What’s your favourite place and way to write?  My aesthetic is Lin-Manuel Miranda in his in-law’s laundry room 🤣 I wrote my first ten-thousand words on the notes app on my phone before my other half told me to stop being ridiculous!  I switch between the laptop, my phone and longhand (I’m a sucker for a nice notepad and a Uni-Ball Eye) and, more often than not, not sat up properly at a table.   

Since you’ve (done something I’ve never managed successfully and) written a novella length fic... how did you organise/keep track of all the details and where you wanted the story to go?  Did you outline/plot in advance?  First of all - I would love to see a novella length fic from you @mybrainrots!  The final scene of Who You Really Are came to me very early on and I knew I wanted the fic to fit within TFP - a lot of it takes place in the timeframe of the final montage.  At first, it was going to be much more about Sherlock’s relationship with the ideas of sentiment and love (the phrase ‘I’m not sentimental about you, I love you,’ haunted me for a while) and I spent some time researching the psychology and playing with scenes from throughout the series - one of my favourites I didn’t go on to use was inspired by the final scene of THoB.  Using scenes from the canon gave an automatic structure, and I was always aiming for the final one I wrote early on - the two of them on the beach (everything is about the beach, with me!)  As I went along and started, inevitably, to slow down, I mapped out the chapters with a short note of what I wanted to be in each, then would add notes or phrases as they came to me - often emailed from my phone!  I had to force myself through a tricky section set in Baker Street at one point, but it came together in the end.  I did plot The Pathologist’s Skeletons on paper first, as I found with a casefic which remains a WIP, that I can get confused and lose focus when it comes to details and how to reveal them in a way which stays paced and interesting.  I’ll certainly do that from now on with longer stories and cases.  How did you keep up enthusiasm for the work?  I want to write an original novel, so I am forcing myself to work through the knotty bits and blocks as a learning experience.  Not everything is destined to be finished or finessed, of course, but I’m finding this process is building my confidence that I can overcome problems and slow periods.  I also find I know when I need some external inspiration - some of my favourite scenes have come to me while out walking the dog or sitting on the beach.  I’ve also been inspired by books or other series or things going on in the world, as we all are, and sometimes that’s pushed me on.  Plus, of course, I’m a newbie - I’m very much in the honeymoon period of my writing, even though I’ve loved Sherlock for ten years! (Ten years! Bonkers.) 

You’ve got a knack for writing Sherlock’s thoughts and capturing his voice.  That said, which character do you find easiest to write?  Which is the hardest?  Thank you so much.  I absolutely love writing Sherlock and Mycroft, and I’m sure that’s because they suit my somewhat over-the-top writing style!  I find Molly and her POV really difficult.  I want the scenes I write from her perspective to sound completely different to Sherlock, but that means writing in a style which doesn’t come as naturally to me.  I’m a long way off happy with that at the moment, but I’m enjoying the challenge.

Is there a scene or character that specifically inspired you to start writing Sherlolly?  The whole of TFP, but especially from the moment Sherlock arrives at Musgrave onwards.  I am desperate to see what a Sherlock Holmes who has been reacquainted with his own heart would look like.  I find his emotionality in those final scenes hugely compelling (Mycroft’s office is one of my favourite moments from across all four series) and, as I have always believed in him and Molly, I practically jumped up back in May after watching it and said ‘right, where’s my notebook?!’.

There’s a lovely peaceful, quiet feeling to your fic ‘We’re All Right At The Moment’.  Can you tell us what inspired it and if you’ve thought of doing the backstory that goes with it?  Thank you!  Like everyone, I would go back to January of this year and start again in a heartbeat, but I am hugely fortunate to be able to say that I have a lot to be grateful to the UK lockdowns for.  I might never have begun writing in this fandom otherwise, for one, and I have had a brilliant time so far and met some lovely people. Honestly, I don’t feel able to do any sort of justice in my writing to what has happened in the world in any broader sense than drawing on my own experiences of staying at home and enjoying my family.  This particular super-short fic sees Molly cutting Sherlock’s hair at home in Baker Street.  I wrote it in the evening after I had cut my other half’s hair and had been reminding myself that despite how horribly worried I was - and still am - about everything, we were all right in that moment, and to focus on that as much as possible.  I wanted to try to capture that, if for no reason other than to look back on this entire experience and remember something lovely, so I am so pleased to hear you felt the fic did that.  It was only after I finished it and reread it, that I realised it is ambiguous as to whether Molly is worried about Sherlock contracting the virus, or whether she is remembering him being treated for it... As I say, I don’t think I could write more about these extraordinary circumstances - perhaps it’s just too close at the moment - so I don’t plan on extending it.  But you know how it is, the plot bunnies hop where they will... 

Do you have a Sherlolly music playlist?  What are your top five favs from the list? Here’s a run down of (6 🙊) songs I have been getting emotional over in the last little while, leading my brain to assign their significance to my favourite couple...

Kissing You - Des’Ree - It’s so 90′s, it’s a bit cheesy, it’s oddly disturbing.  It helped me write A Request, Made Properly, and that gave me an excuse to have Sherlock kiss Molly in the snow.

How Long Will I Love You? - Ellie Goulding - part of the playlist, but also in remembrance of a friend who passed away recently.  Life is very short, love is forever.

High and Dry - Jamie Cullum - It’s made me emotional for a very long time.  The original is my partner’s version of choice, this is mine.  

Think About You - Delta Goodrem - Okay, this one isn’t emotional, and it’s not my usual vibe!  Blame the zoom exercise class I do!  But oh my goodness, it’s Molly.  Bless her.

Blinded By Your Grace (P.T.2. F.T. MNEK) - Stormzy - One of the best ever, I reckon.  Spent an awful lot of time thinking about angels and demons, grace and what it takes to save someone, while writing my latest - The Pathologist’s Skeletons.  This has been in my head most of the (blimmin’) time!

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding - I didn’t know I was a fan of Ellie until I wrote this list... I don’t subscribe to the theory that the love Molly wants or that which Sherlock has to offer is any lesser because it isn’t ‘normal’ or expected. I don’t think romantic entanglement would come easy to either of them. But it’s still love and it would be beautiful.

Thank you so much for reading.  Thanks and love to @ohaine and @mybrainrots. And thank you @sherlollyappreciationweek for the event and for everything you do ❤️

Feel like I should sign off with a quote from the show...

“You’re not a puzzle-solver, you never have been. You’re a drama queen!” Dr John Watson (Moffat & Gatiss) 2014 😜

X

A fav fic of mine by @mybrainrots

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563193

A fav fic of mine by @ohaine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562904

My stuff:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglandsGray/works

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #sherlock #sherlockbbc #writing #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author #read on ao3

[mittensmorgul]

The Tumblr Beta Version: an objective analysis

I was tempted to just type “it sucks.” And while that is an objective analysis, it’s not exactly helpful. I’ve sent several requests to @staff and @support to restore my account to the old tumblr dashboard format, and received the same automated reply twice now. I’ll copy/paste it here so everyone is on the same page:

(lol, I had to go back and edit this, because apparently the beta version doesn’t display block quotes on the dash. So I’ve also put the block quotes in italics... hopefully it’ll display properly... note after editing: nope, it doesn’t display italics either... how the heck am I supposed to differentiate quoted text? I’ll start each quoted bit with an asterisk, I guess...)

*Thanks for reaching out about the beta dashboard.

*We're currently testing it out, and your account seems to have been selected to take part in the test. Thanks for your patience while we work on it! At this time there is not a way to opt out of testing. You may see your Tumblr experience return to normal as we continue testing.

WE CAN ONLY HOPE.

*In the meantime, check out some of the new features available only in the beta dashboard:

OKAY TUMBLR, IF YOU INSIST, though I would MUCH rather have back all the functionality I personally invested into this website through xkit... you know... making the site ACTUALLY FUNCTIONAL. Let’s see what this beta version has given me instead of functionality:

*Change Palettes: Go to the person icon, then click "Change Palette." You'll find the classic Tumblr blue, dark mode, and a few other color palettes for your dash.

So I tried out all the color palettes. In addition to the ones mentioned here, there’s one that’s trying to look like a green screen terminal that gives me flashbacks to the early 80′s. There’s a reason we stopped using green screen terminals... Another one is “canary yellow.” It’s very yellow. The “classic tumblr” isn’t actually classic tumblr... all the post boxes are dark blue with grey type, not white with black type. And all the other colors are the insanely bright fluorescent of the new Dark Blue standard tumblr scheme. Which means links are practically invisible unless I highlight them. It’s migraine inducing. The one theme with a light colored background is called “Concrete” or “Cement” or something like that and even that only works for about half an hour before the migraine aura really kicks in. I just want my Old Blue via xkit back. You know, what tumblr actually used to look like. I don’t want any of these horrible color palettes. None of them work for me.

*The new "meatballs" menu: This is where you can copy the post link, unfollow the Tumblr who made or reblogged the post, or report a violation to our Community Guidelines.

I could do all of this from the user menus with xkit, too. I don’t regularly report violations or have the urge to block people I have chosen to follow. Why on earth would I want to do any of this? And why would I want these features located directly beside the post link copy feature? 

You know what I do miss? I miss the xkit timestamps feature. I didn’t have to hover dangerously close to the KILL IT WITH FIRE meatballs menu in order to see when a post was made, and in this era of disinformation and misinformation spreading around this site faster than Covid-19, being able to see when a post was ORIGINALLY created is a far more useful feature than an easier way to block people. For reference: I currently have three blogs blocked. Two of them are pornbots. One is a nazi. If I don’t want someone’s content on my dash, I don’t follow them. This ���feature” is entirely useless to me.

*A quick note: Pagination is not supported in this beta test, but we're collecting feedback to send to our engineers.

THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST. This beta test might actually be tolerable if I wasn’t trapped into endless scrolling. If I could page through my dash, refreshing it every ten posts or so. You know why? Because once I scroll about 30 posts down my dash, tumblr starts overheating my laptop under the load of ALL THOSE POSTS. Things start malfunctioning-- it takes longer and longer to load new posts the farther I scroll. And the keyboard navigation (both page down and hitting J to advance to the next post, and even just using the down arrow to scroll as I read a long post) freeze and stop functioning. One of my laptop fans has actually begun to malfunction.

You know why this wasn’t a problem on the old version? If the data load got to heavy, I could open a post in a new tab, click view on dash with xkit, and voila! Brand new tab! I could close the malfunctioning tab and everything would be refreshed to normal! But without pagination, THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE.

Also, after reblogging a few posts, the beta version of this site breaks, and doesn’t open a post tab to add commentary or even tags. It just... reblogs the untagged post with no warning whatsoever. You know... that’s really really not cool. I tag EVERYTHING. Well, almost everything. The tags are the only way to keep track of the 40k+ posts on my blog. And warn people that I am posting potential spoilers, or other specific content. It’s REALLY inconvenient to have to either immediately go to my blog to edit the post and add tags, or even comments. The alternative is to scroll up to open individual posts I want to reblog in a new tab, and then reblog directly there. Ironically enough, THOSE pages actually open with xkit installed, and everything (surprise!) functions perfectly there.

It’s perfectly reasonable to understand why this specific issue has limited the number of posts I reblog. Reblogging content should not be this much of a hassle. Creators have been complaining for a while that reblogs have drastically slowed down, and I think making it even more annoying and difficult to reblog posts will not help this problem.

Also, with xkit enabled, there’s a function that auto-loads images as you scroll, so the images are always visible BEFORE they appear on screen. I don’t have to look at the colored boxes and wonder if this is a post I’ve already seen or something I should sit and wait for. Don’t even think about watching tumblr videos. Loading priority is given to the ads that you cannot pause or dismiss, so that video loads and plays in choppy two second bursts instead of being given priority. Since that’s the content I am actually here to consume, it kinda makes me want to do the opposite of patronizing anyone who advertises here with graphically intense ads. And then when you scroll away, with xkit, gifs and videos you’ve scrolled past STOP loading and playing, which I think might be contributing to the intensity of the resource hogging that’s literally melting down my laptop.

And for reference, I have a pretty decent little gaming laptop. A blogging platform shouldn’t be driving it to the brink of frying itself. I didn’t realize just how much xkit worked to streamline this and provide basic functionality to this site.

*And lastly, if you're an XKit user, know that the XKit team is working hard to update things on their end to make it compatible with the beta dashboard.

And this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I’ve lost without xkit. And this is a really REALLY garbage response to user complaints. “Oh, yeah, sorry we made our site suck even worse, but those nice people who do our jobs for free will surely fix our garbage soon!”

Dear wonderful people at @new-xkit-extension, I love you, and I miss you, and while I wish xkit worked with this beta version I’ve been forced into living with, I truly feel for y’all who are trying to deal with this nonsense on behalf of all of us.

And to the folks at Tumblr... maybe try to just... make your site actually more like xkit. You know, actually functional. None of these special new features are useful or functional to me. I respectfully request for a fourth time to be removed from this inane beta test.

Give us OPTIONS. Let us display ALL THE TAGS without having to click a button. Let me have back my Activity+ that actually allowed me to interact with people from my dash! That showed me real-time inline notifications in a way that I could reply to with a single click! Bring me back to my column of open messaging conversation icons so I have easy access to the people I talk with throughout the day instead of closing them all every time I refresh the page. I already feel socially isolated in freaking quarantine, please stop shutting off all my avenues of communication!

Let us have pagination! I mean, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to force heavy users of this site into a beta version that doesn’t allow us to opt out until your engineers had actually figured out how to make it work in a very basic way.

*Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with!

YES. PLEASE REMOVE ME FROM THIS BETA TEST NOW. I have let you know exactly what I want from this site. I just want it to ACTUALLY WORK. For someone who spends 12+ hours a day on this site, this beta test version is NONFUNCTIONAL. PLEASE ALLOW ME TO OPT OUT. I AM LITERALLY BEGGING YOU. I WILL ACTUALLY PAY YOU CASH MONEY TO ALLOW ME TO OPT OUT OF THIS AND GO BACK TO HAVING A FUNCTIONAL BLOG AGAIN. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!

PLEASE! 

I AM OFFICIALLY AT THE END OF MY PATIENCE FOR ENDURING THIS NIGHTMARE.

(one final quick note... I’ve only been back on my dash long enough to make the parenthetical edits-- i.e. adding italics that don’t display and then adding the asterisks at the beginning of each section of quoted text, and already my laptop is overheating again. For reference, I originally typed this entire post from within my tumblr inbox page-- which still functions normally with xkit-- and spent over an hour on it. My laptop was fine the entire time. Clearly the issue is this beta version of the website. I will never forgive tumblr if y’all fry my literal only portal to the outside world at this time. PUT ME BACK TO NORMAL NOW. THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INFURIATING AND ENTIRELY UNACCEPTABLE. Thanks)

(oops apparently i lied... when the asterisks and the previous final note failed to display, I thought that seemed suspicious, and realized that I literally needed to refresh my entire dash in order to see edited changes. Funny how xkit enabled me to do that in real time, which is just another bit of functionality I’ve lost with this beta program. Please guys, this is really, really not working for me at all, just put it back.)

#tumblr problems #staff #support #xkit #was this good enough for you? because I am totally done with this if that wasn't completely obvious #please end my suffering

[crashdevlin]

To Hell and Back-6: Hello and Goodbye

To Hell and Back Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version). This is an AU of my story ‘Marion’ and is just as epic as that series.

Summary: Marion makes it out of Hell. Dean gets sent there.

Pairing(s): none

Word Count: 4698

Chapter Warnings: Hell, mentions of torture, mentions of child abuse, demon deals, canon-appropriate character death (Dean in No Rest for the Wicked)

Marion slowly made her way through hell, slinking through the shadows and trying to avoid being seen. She made it to where the map led her and was face with a metal ladder. "Climbing. Of course there's climbing." She whispered to herself, folding up the map and stuffing it into the decayed fabric that was once her bra, and started to pull herself slowly from rung to rung. "Got no muscle. Got no energy. Of course I have to climb a fucking ladder." She complained to no one.

Smoke-form demons were swirling above her head, waiting for the door to open, waiting for the chance they'd been promised. She was only halfway up the ladder when the doors were pushed open. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before the door started to push closed. "Oh, god, please." She whimpered, pulling harder, trying with all of her might to get up to the doors before they shut on her. A rush of light came up from underneath her, wrapping what felt like strong arms around her, pulling her free of the metal rungs and carrying her up the rest of the ladder. She was deposited on the grass outside the doors, just as they were pushed closed.

She lay on her back with her eyes closed, taking her first breath of fresh, cool air in two hundred and forty years. The grass felt so cold and soft compared to the hot stone she'd spent the last couple centuries on. The sound of a pump shotgun loading was loud in her ears and she knew there was a hunter standing over her, about to blow her away. "Ellen, wait! That's... I think... holy shit, that's Marion! Just... give her room!" A familiar voice said, before she was being lifted into a warm embrace and her senses were flooded by the smell of whiskey, gunpowder, and engine grease. Bobby.

Marion cried the few tears her body would relinquish, but her body continued to be wracked with sobs, long past the point where the salt water stopped rolling. She heard a gun shot and a few moments later the noise surrounding her died down. Daring to pull back a little and try to look around, she saw her brothers and an older brunette woman standing around Bobby, who was staring down at her with his brand of fatherly worry. Dean looked scared and angry, and he had a gash across his forehead. Sam just looked confused. The woman still had her shotgun ready to shoot Marion, grip tight on the handle.

"You were in Hell?" Dean growled. "What the fuck?"

"Dean." Bobby warned.

"I'll explain everything." She whispered. "Just... after."

"After what?" The older woman, Bobby called her 'Ellen', asked.

"After I regain..." She drifted as she lost consciousness. The adrenaline was gone and, with it, any energy she had.

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

Marion woke slowly. She could tell she was laying somewhere soft, her sensitive body able to distinguish two separate cushions underneath her. The couch in Bobby's library, most likely. She could hear coffee mugs and a coffee pot being moved in a room behind her. Bobby's kitchen. She kept her eyes closed, afraid that she'd be immediately questioned as soon as her eyes opened. She took the time to cover all of the bases in her head, to come up with a lie, an excuse, something to say. She slowly moved her hand across her chest to confirm that her contract was still right where she'd left it, before slowly blinking her eyes open. Bobby was looking down at her. She tried to sit up but her destroyed muscles wouldn't allow it.

"Hey, hey. Slow down, girl." Bobby whispered, dropping to her side and helping her sit up. He grabbed some pillows and tucked them behind her to support her back. She offered him a weak smile in return as her brothers walked in from the kitchen, mugs in hand.

"So, what happened to you?" Dean asked, roughly. "No offense, but you look like a fuckin' Holocaust survivor."

She chuckled, lightly, a sound that had grown unfamiliar to her and hurt her throat. "The demon who did this to me... he bragged about possessing an SS soldier in Poland, so... it's kinda like I am."

She closed her eyes. Keeping them open was too much effort. "I was on a hunt. I stumbled upon some yellow-eyed demon talking about his plan for... for Sam and kids like him. Said something about gathering them, needing a soldier. He said he'd been manipulating us all from the day Mom died." She took a deep breath and continued. "He saw me. He knew who I was. He knew I'd try to warn you, so... he took me to Hell to keep me from ruining his plan."

The men looked between themselves. "Not that we ain't grateful an' all, Marion, but why didn't he just kill you?" Bobby asked, softly.

"Said if I died I'd go to Heaven and the angels or whoever the fuck is supposed to be up there would know the plan. Had to keep me alive to keep me out of Heaven."

"Better be glad demons are so fuckin' superstitious. The thought of Heaven kept you alive." Dean scoffed.

"Hell's real enough. Why wouldn't Heaven be?" Sam asked, his eyebrows tucked together.

"If Heaven were real, an innocent woman would never have been in Hell for two years." Dean spat.

Marion chuckled, ruefully. "Two years. If only." She blinked her eyes open and shook her head. "Time runs... so much slower up here. I was in that cell for two hundred and thirty-nine years. I counted every day." She was failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but she was trying. "If I'd been fed... if I could've moved... I'd've pulled an Edmond Dantes and come out a better person, but for all that time... I've got nothing but scars to show. All I could do was meditate."

"Speaking of being fed, you must be starving." Dean started for the kitchen.

"Wait!" She called, weakly. "My metabolism is used to getting, like, a hundred calories a day. I've been in preservation mode for a couple centuries, dude. If I start eating normally, it will kill me. Let's start... a cup of coffee... little bit of sugar."

Sam rubbed at the back of his neck. "I feel like you need a hospital, Marion. This... is a lot for home medics."

"An' tell 'em, what, at the hospital? She's been in Hell, Sam. There ain't a clinic fer folk who pop outta Hell damaged and we can't afford the attention from the damned police." Bobby growled.

"Look, Sam. I don't need a hospital. You're still our research guy, right? Why don't you research muscle rehab for me? Find out what they do for folks in similar situations. Holocaust, kidnapping victims who escape, anorexia rehab. How do I get my muscle back and get back in the field?"

"What do you mean, 'back in the field'?" Dean shook his head. "No. You aren't hunting, Marion."

"Of course I am, D. I saw what escaped from that Devil's Gate before I got out. The number of demons on Earth just went up a hundred fold. We need as many hands on deck as possible and, you know what? For the first time ever, I'm older than you and you don't have a fuckin' say." She took a deep breath and turned back to Sam. "I know that there's gotta be rehab programs. Tell me what I can do and I'll do it." Sam sighed and nodded, so Marion turned to Bobby. "Hey, Bobby, can you take me over near the fire, please? I'm fuckin' freezing."

"Dean, can you take 'er? I'm gonna help Sam." Bobby followed Sam into the kitchen to get laptops running and Dean leaned down, picking his twin up with absolutely no effort. He set her in Bobby's desk chair and rolled her to the fireplace. He knelt down next to her and she bit her lip as she looked into the flames.

"So. Does Sammy know, yet?" Marion whispered.

"Yeah." Dean licked his lips. "He figured it out about the time Jake looked at him and said 'I killed you'. Couldn't really deny it."

Marion shook her head, lazily. "He's smart. He'll be trying to keep you out of the fire, but, Dean... He won't be able to save you."

Dean tensed. "Yeah, well, if you could survive it, maybe so can I. Maybe I can even find a way to climb out like you and Dad."

"It won't be the same for you." She said, bluntly.

"What do you mean?"

"This..." She gestured at herself with a skeletal hand. "The deprivation, the solitude, the torture, it's what they did to me because they couldn't do what they normally would. It would have killed me. You won't be afforded the same. You will be a soul, Dean, and you will die every day for eternity."

She looked over at her brother and debated whether or not to continue speaking. Her throat told her to stop, as it went dry and tried to prevent sound from getting loose, but her heart overrode it. He needed to know. "There's a difference, you know, in how a person screams the very first time they get cut and how they scream when all their pain receptors are already going. It got to where I could hear that difference. Hell, it runs like a machine, one you can set a clock by. Or you can count the days. When I heard the screams of the new cuts, I'd mark the wall."

She looked away from Dean. "You will be a soul, and they will torture you and they'll kill you, They'll twist you, make you dark, make you like them. If you managed to climb out of Hell, you wouldn't be you... and I wouldn't blame you for any of it, except selling your soul and getting shafted in the negotiations."

"Didn't get-"

"Yes, you did, D. A year. Standard deal is ten and you got one year."

"It's better than Dad got." He sighed. "I needed Sammy back. It's my job to protect him."

"And he's gonna research his ass off to save you. That's his job." Dean nodded. "And I hope you don't hold this against me, Dean, but... I can't burn myself trying to keep you out of the fire. I just... I spent too long in the flames."

Dean nodded. "I get it."

"And I get that you only have a year left and you aren't gonna sit around wasting it with watching your broken sister rehab her emaciated body. I just ask that... after your year of boozing and whoring, when it gets down to the wire and Sammy throws his Hail Mary to save you, that you call me... because it's gonna be my job to be there for him when it fails."

Dean nodded again. "I promise."

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

It was almost a year later when Marion's phone rang. She'd barely heard from her brothers. They didn't want to worry her with their bullshit and she didn't want to bore them with her health issues and she didn't want to listen to their harassment when she started hunting again. The Winchesters kept tabs on each other through the filter of Bobby Singer.

"Hey." Dean's voice came through her phone. "Down to the wire. Sam's got a Hail Mary. We've got this knife, it kills demons. We're on the way to try to gank the bitch who holds my contract. New Harmony, Indiana. Can you get there?"

Marion pulled up a map on her laptop and Googled New Harmony. "I'm in Texas. I think I can get there in twelve."

"All right. We'll try not to start without you."

Marion got there in eleven hours. As she watched her brothers sneaking around this little suburb of faux paradise from her car, she realized how much better she blended in than they did. Even if the demons weren't on high alert, they would've stuck out. As Dean disappeared around the corner of a house, she got out of her car and followed over. She stopped at the corner, still just watching as Sam and Dean spoke to a blond woman. Something was off about her, but from the angle she had, Marion couldn't see her well enough to figure out exactly what.

"You'll get it when this is over." Sam said.

"It's already over." The blond rebutted. "I gave you a way to save Dean, you shot me down. Now it's too late. He's dead, and I'm not gonna let you die, too." Marion knew, then, what it was about the blond that made her uneasy. What she could see of the woman's face told her that it wasn't a woman, but a demon. Something familiar about it.

"Try and stop me and I'll kill you. Bitch." Sam growled.

"Hit me with your best shot, baby."

"What is this? Are you working with demons, now?" Marion whispered, stepping toward her brothers.

The blond smirked, her eyes narrowing. "Like you have any room to talk."

Marion's stomach twisted as she realized the demon in front of her obviously knew about her deal. "You shut your whore mouth." She growled through clenched teeth.

The blond laughed, quietly, but with a lot of glee. "They don't know!"

"Know what?" Dean asked, his eyebrows tucking together.

The demon turned back to Dean, a smile on her vessel's lips. "Why she was sent to the Pit. She overheard something she shouldn't have, while in the process of working with a demon. A low-level crossroads demon that she made a deal with, who unlike me is not reformed. The only way they could even bring her to Hell was the clause in her contract allowing it."

"What?!" Sam and Dean exclaimed in a combined stage whisper, rage in their eyes.

"Don't you dare judge me! At least I didn't sell my soul like you and Dad!" Marion bit her lip, rubbing a knuckle across her eyebrow. She looked away from her brothers, focused on her shotgun. "You know... you might not believe this, but that demon saved my life more times than I can count. In his own weird demonic way, he cared for me." She looked up and caught Dean's eyes. "He once called me the only thing he had worth taking. I knew him for twelve years before I ever considered making a deal with him. If it weren't for him, I'd still be in Hell. He drew me a map to the Devil's Gate, drew it on the back of my contract and told me to burn the thing when I got home, so that they could never take me back."

"Yeah? You didn't give him your soul? Then, what was the contract for? What'd you give him?" Dean asked, coldly.

"My work." She answered, her lips tight. "He was losing people. Folks were skipping out on their sentences, buying extra time through hiding, and he wasn't powerful enough to get topside whenever he wanted in order to help his hounds find their targets. He needed someone who could walk through a Devil's Trap and salt lines in order to give the dogs their directions."

"So, you helped sentence people to Hell?" Dean almost growled the words.

She shook her head. "No. They sentenced themselves. They made their deals. I just helped make sure they held up their end of the bargains."

"And what'd you get for it, huh? What was worth that?" Sam asked, obviously angry that both of his siblings had made demon deals.

"Dad stopped hitting me, didn't he?" Marion said, turning to look at her twin, her green eyes challenging his.

Dean's eyebrows scrunched together again. "But we were sixteen when that happened. You tellin' me you met this guy when we were four?"

Marion's eyes went wide at his words. She blinked a few times, before shaking her head. "Y-you remember? You knew? And you've been telling me for years that I... I was making it up? You m-made me think I was crazy, made me doubt."

"Shit." Dean looked from Marion to Sam, who was also looking shocked. "Well, Sammy, he was already starting to question the old man by the time you had the balls to bring it up to us. He was already questioning Dad's authority and I... I couldn't have you adding more shit to that pile, so I told you... I said you were a liar so that you'd stow it."

Rage radiated through Marion, then petered out into sadness. "I get it." She said, finally. She licked her lips and shook her head. "I really do. Protect Sammy and idolize the old man were always the biggest motivations of your personality, D." She said, bitterly, before turning to the blond. "But I'll tell ya, Dean. I've been hanging with demons since we were four years old, and I spent the equivalent of two centuries in Hell, and I've never heard of a reformed demon."

"Well, now you have. Name's Ruby and I've saved your brothers' asses on many an occasion."

"I'm sure Azazel would thank you if he were still alive."

"Guys, guys. Have your little cat fight later." Dean said, pulling their attention to the neighborhood, where several demons were standing around, staring at them with black eyes. "So much for the element of surprise."

"Let's go. Go. Run. Run!" Sam pushed the gate open and ran toward the house Lilith had taken. Sam started working to pick the lock on the front door as Dean looked around at the demons rushing toward them.

"What the hell's takin' Bobby?" Dean asked.

The twins and Ruby turned to look at Sam, obviously having trouble picking the lock with the added pressure. "Get a move on, Sam. Demons closing in." Marion growled.

"I'm trying!"

Marion watched as demons started to run at them across the lawn, sprinklers springing up and spraying them with water. The water seemed to burn, causing them to scream and flail their arms. Holy water. She chuckled as Sam finally made it past the lock. Dean laughed loudly, tauntingly, in the faces of the demons before patting his sister on the back and walking into the house behind Ruby. Marion closed the door, looking down at a dead man.

"You think Lilith knows we're here?" Dean asked.

"Probably." Ruby answered, before they started to walk stealthily through the house, Ruby following Sam, Dean following behind Marion and Marion not letting Ruby out of her sight. She turned as a man jumped out of a cabinet and Dean grabbed him, hand going firmly over his mouth.

Dean shushed the man before whispering, "We're here to help. Okay? I'm gonna move my hand and we're gonna talk nice and quiet, okay?" The man nodded so Dean removed his hand slowly.

"Sir, where is your daughter?" Sam asked from behind Ruby.

"It's not... it's not her anymore."

"Where is she?" Sam insisted.

"Upstairs. In her bedroom."

Dean still had his arm around the man as he started speaking. "Okay, okay, okay. Listen to me. I want you to go downstairs to the basement. Put a line of salt at the door behind you. Do you understand me?"

"Not without my wife." The man said, quickly.

"Yes, without your wife." Marion whispered.

"No, not-" The man started to respond, but Dean punched his lights out, obviously not wanting to waste any of his short time with arguing. He picked the man up and slung him over his shoulder. He threw a look at the others before walking away. Marion followed him, stopping in the kitchen to grab a salt grinder from the table. Dean dropped the man on the floor of the basement and Marion pulled the top off of the salt grinder to make a line at the door. They stepped over the line, slowly heading up the stairs to the girl's room. Sam stood over the girl, psyching himself up to stab the child. Marion focused in on the little girl's face. "She's not-"

Dean nodded, rushing forward to grab Sam's arm. "It's not her! It's not in the girl, anymore." Sam's breath came in heavy as the ramifications of what he almost did hit him. The mother wrapped her arms around the girl and picked her up, heading out of the room. "All right, no matter what you hear... you, your husband and your daughter stay in the basement." Dean ordered the woman, who just nodded and rushed down the stairs into the basement. Dean followed her to make sure the salt line was still good, but Marion stayed behind with Sam and Ruby.

"Well, I hate to be a 'told you so'." Ruby quipped.

"All right, Ruby. Where is she?" Sam demanded.

"I don't know." She answered, entering the living room.

"Could she get past the sprinklers?"

"Her pay grade, she ain't sweating the holy water."

Sam turned to her, suddenly. "Okay, you win. What do I have to do?"

Ruby tilted her head, questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"To save Dean." Sam said, as Dean walked up behind him, standing next to Marion. "What do you need me to do?"

Dean grabbed his shoulder and tried to turn him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sam didn't let his brother turn him, keeping his eyes on the demon. "Just shut up for a second. Ruby!"

"You had your chance. You can't just flip a switch. We needed time."

"Well, there's gotta be something. There gotta be some way. Whatever it is, I'll do it." Marion leaned back against the wall as Dean grabbed their brother. "Don't- Dean. I'm not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!"

"Yes, you are!" Dean shouted, before his face softened. "Yes, you are. I'm sorry. I mean, this is all my fault, I know that. But what you are doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you." He finished, calmly.

"Then, what am I supposed to do?"

Dean let out a sad sigh. "Keep fighting. And take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you... okay?" Sam nodded, his eyes filling up with tears. "And remember what I taught you."

Marion watched her brothers fighting back their tears, then looked at her feet. It was the only way to hold back her own. Her eyes shot back up as a grandfather clock on the opposite wall started to chime midnight. Her brothers looked around and then at each other as tears started rolling down Sam's cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Ruby said. "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy."

Marion and Dean both turned their heads toward the dining room as a growling sound met their ears. Dean's face fell in fear as his eyes fell upon the dog. "Hellhound." The twins said, quietly.

"Where?" Sam asked, looking around, even though he knew he couldn't see it.

"There." Dean nodded slightly toward the archway into the dining room.

Ruby's eyes fell on the hound, as well, and the hound barked, loudly. Dean ran and the party followed. Marion fell behind as they ran through the hallway, ending up behind the hound as it pushed past her to get at Dean. She watched as the hound pounded itself into the doors which Sam and Ruby were holding. Goofer dust poured through under the door and the hound stopped, pacing back and forth a few times before turning and looking at Marion. Sam and Dean stared at her through the window, Dean being able to see the hound turning on her. She put her hands up in a nonthreatening manner, shaking a little as the hound pattered toward her. "H-hey. You-you're a pretty dog. Almost as big as-as Fergus' favorite. She's called... she's Juliet. Yeah... she's... huge. You've got big teeth."

Marion shook her head at her brothers as the knob started to turn on the office door. They had to stay there. If they opened that door to try to save her from this hellhound, that'd leave Dean vulnerable. Besides, this wasn't the first hellhound she'd had to keep from killing her. She put her hand out and spoke soothingly to the hound. "I smell a lot like your target, don't I? That's 'cause we were in the womb together. But I've got another smell on me, though, right? One you recognize, right? See?" She breathed out a steady stream of breath toward the hound's face. It whined, then barked. She jumped and laughed in shock. "Sit." She ordered and it followed direction.

"Sam, that's not Ruby. It's not Ruby!" Dean shouted from the office.

Marion clicked her tongue, trying to keep the hounds attention on her. "Stay with me, puppy. Right here. This is a Winchester with sulfur in her lungs, much more interesting than an noise in an office, right? Stay with me." She begged. Her hand shook as she patted its head and listened to the sound of the fight in the office. She should have known. She knew that face, that familiar ugly visage.

"And Marion..." Lilith said, raising her voice enough that it could be heard easily through the door. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you were locked up in the bowels of Hell." Marion didn't respond, working to keep the attention of the hound. That didn't last long, though, because there was no way to keep the hound's attention as Lilith opened the door and said, "Sic 'em, boy." Marion watched as the hound barreled in and grabbed Dean from the table with its jaws and slashing him to pieces. She closed her eyes tightly as blood poured out of her twin and he screamed.

"No! Stop!" Sam shouted. "Stop it! No! No. Stop it. Stop it! No!"

"Yes." Lilith said, happily. Marion opened her eyes as white light poured out of Lilith's hand. She watched Lilith's face as she realized that Sam was still alive. She put her hand up as Sam walked forward. "Back! I said, back!"

Sam bent down to pick up the Kurdish knife as Marion ran to grab the demon. "I don't think so." Sam growled, pulling back to stab her, but Lilith threw Ruby's head back and shrieked out a plume of black smoke into the vent above her. As Ruby's body fell to the floor, Sam turned to look at Dean. He dropped the knife as Marion put a hand over her mouth, trying to hold in a sob. Sam dropped to his knees, pulling Dean into his lap. "No... no... Dean... Dean, please."

Marion shook her head, trying to swallow the feelings in her chest. She put her hand on Sam's shoulder and closed her eyes to shut out the image of her twin torn to pieces. No tears pulled from her eyes as she hardened herself. "Sam... we have to go. Pick him up and let's go."

Sam nodded, standing and carrying Dean out of the house. He didn't say a word as tears rolled down his face. Bobby met Sam and Marion in the yard. "Damn it!" He exclaimed.

"Come on. We gotta get wood... make a pyre." Marion said, emotionless.

"No." Sam said, walking toward the Impala.

"What do you mean, 'no'? Son, we need to salt and burn him so he don't come back a ghost."

"He's gonna need a body when I get him back." Sam said.

"No." Marion grabbed Sam's bicep, but he pulled away violently. She sighed. "Sam, hunters get burned for a reason. Salted and burned so that they don't end up having to be hunted later." She argued.

"I'm not gonna let you burn him. I will find a way to bring him back and he's gonna need a body." Sam growled. "You... you and Bobby need to... to find or, or make a casket. Dean and I... we're gonna go on one last ride." Sam said, getting into the driver's seat of the Impala and letting the tires screech as he pulled out, quickly.

Supernatural Tags- @letsby, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @adoptdontshoppets

#cassie writes stuff #spn #spn fanfic #epic fic #twin fic #sister winchester

[steveramsdale]

The infected blog 9.13

It’s Saturday morning, the rain is pouring down and we’re in a B-movie version of an end-of-the-world film.

The blog has a virus. Of course I have to mention it because it has impacted everything. My working week has been the strangest in my life (so far). However, there is other stuff, too. If you are stuck at home, self-isolating, this may brighten up a few minutes of your day. Feel free to comment below, I’m isolated too, so would be happy to chat. If you print this, you could cut it in to squares and use it as emergency toilet paper. Think of that.

Seriously though, it seems much of the world is waking up to the need to slow the rate/flatten the curve. The UK’s health service was already beyond stretched before this. I hate to think how the health service here in Uzbekistan will cope. Schools and other educational institutions have be closed but much of life goes on as normal. We (staff) have been expected to go in to work and will be again after our Spring Break. It’s not really how this drive to slow the virus is supposed to work. I suppose we are all learning how to live in the ‘new normal’.

We had prepared our students for the possibility of a shut down (not quite well enough, as it turned out), but we didn’t know for sure on Friday that we’d be shut on Monday. The message came over the weekend, along with the instruction that ‘staff are expected to be in school’. We are using Google Classroom at the moment and we had made sure our students were logged in. It has turned out to be more fiddly for them to open and submit their work than we realised. On Wednesday we got the message that staff could not go in to school for the rest of the week. On Wednesday we could collect any resources we needed. I’d left my laptop, so I had a really good, really early walk to go and get it.

This coming week was or Spring Break anyway and we are definitely closed for at least another week after the break. So we’ll see. Just about everything else in Tashkent is business as usual but that could change.

I think that should be it for the infection in this blog. In other news....

Do you remember geocashing? I wonder if it has started in Tashkent. Last Saturday morning I was out for a walk and saw About 10 - 15 adults near Ecorn. They were looking in hedges and ditches, phones in hand. I wondered what it was then remembered the, seemingly brief, craze of geocaching. I could not think of another explanation but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.

On Sunday morning, I decided to have a walk and bus ride (early so it wasn’t crowded. I went to Antract for the first time for ages. I was the only customer. I need to get a second gas refill for my camping cooker and wanted to see if any shops in that area might have them.

Since we came back this year, Heinz beans have disappeared and I have hardly seen any alternatives. This was before panic buying. I saw some Bonduelle beans in a supermarket Mairi will remember, so bought two tins. I also found two tins of the Heinz variety when sorting the stuff I’d taken from the van before the winter.

There is a real culture of repairing things in Uzbekistan. Still looking for gas, I went back to my old stomping ground (the bazaar at Yunusabad krug) and decided to get a repair done. I have a bag for the things I need to carry - keys, wallet, phone, you know. For a while it has been developing a problem: two parts of the strap have begun to fray a little. It looked untidy and would only get worse. Otherwise, the bag is perfectly fine. So, I had planned for a while to get a repair done. Now it has happened. The repair man cut strips of suede/leather, glued them along the fraying edges and then sewed up the fabric. The suede is almost identical in color to the strap, and I am neat again. People do get things repaired here where we would throw them away and buy new. While I was in the little booth, two old, battered pairs of shoes were being repaired. In the UK, they would have been thrown away months ago, but here, through necessity or habit, things get repaired. These little booths are everywhere. I have had zips repaired in boots for Mairi and Emily this year. These boots were otherwise perfectly wearable and the repair would have cost more than a new pair of boots in England. Here it cost about £5.

One day this week, a driver thought I was about 45 and a colleague was shocked that I was a grandfather. I’m wearing quite well.

As you know, the van has been in for the final interior work. On Tuesday evening, a message came through from Viktor, the van interior man, that he was almost done. He said he’d let me know on Wednesday when to come, but no message came through all day.

I bought toilet paper. I was not panicking as I did it. Well, I was a little bit. The four-packs in the brand I bought before were only in peach, which is not right for my bathroom, oh no. So, on the shelf below, there were plain white rolls. I pulled out a pack, only to realise that they were eight-packs. A woman stacking the shelves immediately pulled a pack that had been behind to the front of the shelf. I wanted to put it back because I didn’t think I needed an eight-pack, but panicked and did not want to disturb her shelf-stacking efforts, so took it anyway. I should be fine until (if I can) I leave Uzbekistan.

This week, I have also been feeding a cat. This is the cat who’s rescue you read about in previous blogs. She is now fit and healthy. My former colleague, Dave, was going away as their break was before ours. The cat’s normal routine is to be fed and put outside in the morning. He then feeds her again, letting her in after work. Dave has an enclosed garden which she would struggle to escape from at the moment. I initially said that I would go once a day, after work, but the new circumstances meant I have been able to go twice a day. I can walk in about 10 minutes from my flat. For reasons known only to her, and many other cats, she does not go to the toilet outside. Dave has a litter tray in the house which she uses once back inside. For a tiny cat, she produces an unbelievable amount of poo. I’ll be going latter for today’s breakfast.

On Thursday, the message did come to get the van. The job Viktor has done is astounding. I now have a front seat that turns into the ‘room’, curtains, carpeted and matted flooring in the front, a new ceiling lining, I can’t describe the difference. I bought the curtain fabric and there was enough for him to put a piece of it down the middle of the re-covered front seats. There are pictures and videos on my FB page. It is an incredible transformation. I hope you’ll see it one day, if the borders open again.

I went over to NBU on Friday to show off the van to people who remember the original and too see other humans! It was nice, I could borrow WiFi and keep in touch with my three or four students who are doing any work.

One little grammar thing I noticed spreading here recently. A few years ago, TV chefs started explaining how they ‘reduce down’ sauces and soups. I complained about this as my family will tell you. In what other direction, except down, can things reduce? This unnecessary multiplication of prepositions has increased (up). You may have noticed two. The ones have heard a lot here recently are ‘return back’ and ‘reply back’. I spoke to my friend Viktoriya about it when she said return back. She speaks very good English and helps me with Russian. She realised that it was unnecessary to add the ‘back’ but told me that it is done in Russian, too - вернуться назад - also unnecessary. However, if that’s all I have to worry about, I’m not doing too badly. Someone once said to me: “If you keep correcting people’s grammar, you’ll have less and less friends.” I replied, “know I won’t, I’ll have fewer and fewer friends”. I I’ve lost touch with that person. In the interests of the integrity of this blog, I have to say that that conversation never happened. But it could.

Well, that’s it from me.

The cat and the van.

[onestowatch]

Huron John Invites You to Experience the Trauma-Exorcism of ‘cartoon therapy’ [Q&A]

Photo: Chase Denton

In the world of up-and-coming artists, few names generate as much excitement as Huron John. Last year the indie pop prodigy invited listeners into his technicolor world with his debut LP Apocalypse Wow, and this week sees him returning once more with his long-awaited sophomore project, cartoon therapy.

In 2020, Huron John’s debut Apocalypse Wow was met with widespread acclaim with critics praising everything from its production and forward-thinking narrative, to Huron John’s whimsically crafted tracks. Both albums are written, engineered, and produced in their entirety by the Chicago native, but while the former is an explosive display of left-field kaleidoscopic narratives and youthful romance, the latter takes a much more introspective approach to its storytelling.

cartoon therapy sheds Huron John’s youthful exuberance for something that is much more complex, and at times even vulnerable. Tracks like “Arthur” are just as concerned with the euphoria of new romance as they are with the anxiety of growing old and being insecure in the skin that you’re in. Despite its more pensive thematic register, cartoon therapy is a must-listen. The record is filled with 10 high-energy indie pop anthems that will transport your weekly rotation to another world before you can even say “meep.”

Prior to the release of cartoon therapy, I was fortunate enough to pick Huron John’s brain about his newest record. We discussed the past year, his favorite piece of hardware, and everything in-between.

Ones To Watch: It’s been a minute since we last got a full-length project from you. Your debut album, 2020’s Apocalypse Wow, focused on themes of disillusionment and dystopia, which was probably appropriate given how insane last year was. On your newest project cartoon therapy, what themes did you try to focus on?

Huron John: This new album is all about healing. It’s super symbolic to me personally in the sense of, like, I’ve been going through some very dark shit, and finally getting this project out kind of lets me see a light at the end of the tunnel in a way. The album is about accepting the individuality of your own journey, and understanding that life is beautiful even through all of the things that bog us down. It’s about answering questions but not being afraid to pose new ones. The album is truly like a really volatile version of therapy… it’s like 10 fucking tracks back-to-back-to-back with like no space in between (laughs). It’s supposed to be just a whirlwind of getting out what is inside so you can move forward. This thing is like a trauma-exorcism but you’re on the dancefloor or on a bike. 

How do you feel cartoon therapy extends the world you built on Apocalypse Wow? Did you always anticipate the story going this way, or did things change throughout the creative process?

It’s a second half of the “story” of Apocalypse Wow, it completes this like double album-style package. My favorite album of all time is a double album with a loose concept based on the progression from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep. From Apocalypse Wow to cartoon therapy it’s this concept about a character—who is lowkey based on myself but shhhh (laughs)—who saves the planet from aliens. Then, in CT, he basically befriends the aliens enough so that they give him a time machine. He goes on this crazy-ass adventure throughout time-and-space visiting all the fucked up moments from his life and like gaining peace with them I guess. The connection kind of unraveled as I made the stuff, I suppose. I just wanted it to be a very clear bookend on the introductory chapter of my discography. 

Which track on cartoon therapy was the biggest challenge to make and why? What track are you most proud of?

A track called “Cosmic Opera (Death Is Not The End).” Basically, I had a whole other song called “We’ll Come Out On Top,” it was actually the first beat I made for the record. It’s this really slow, psychedelic like Some Rap Songs style hip-hop shit. My hard drive broke so I lost the original beat, tried for about three weeks to remake it, but it just didn’t work. In the process, a whole new beat “(Cosmic Opera)” was born. I got COVID, strep throat, and a whole bunch of other shit that caused me to have to re-record the vocals like three times. 

How was the creation of cartoon therapy and its creative process different from your last record?

It was beyond fucked. An absolute shit-show. Apocalypse Wow was extremely over-planned (musically), and the process was like so long to make that record. This one I wanted to try a much more rapid-fire like lightning-in-a-bottle approach and make the full album in like three months. That goal was the death of me (laughs). In a nutshell, I made like 15 beats for the whole thing, wrote all the lyrics, recorded all the vocals, then realized I had a faulty microphone so I had to re-record the entire album. It was a nightmare. Then, when I had like four songs left to record, I got COVID, then I lost my voice due to COVID after I recovered, then I found out I had strep throat. A whole bunch of other shit happened but it was the like “I AM FINISHING THIS FUCKING ALBUM IF IT KILLS ME” type shit. Very crazy process. 

It seems like the release of cartoon therapy had a much greater emphasis on visuals than Apocalypse Wow. Was this intentional? 

Oh yeah. It was supposed to really drive home this narrative world, and just expand the whole world of this character Andy—one that spans between the two albums. Two records with a very visual universe, so that was definitely the goal of the whole thing.

How has your understanding of your music and your place in the music industry changed since the release of Apocalypse Wow? How are you feeling about things now?

I honestly don’t know. My relationship with music has changed immensely since I created this record, to rolling it out, to now. I have realized a lot of things that I want to take part in, and a lot of things that I do not. My goal is to get this work in the hands of as many people as I can, specifically physical vinyl copies of the music. This record truly taught me that the sole purpose of life is to impact as many people that you can with creative work. To make their lives better. To comfort people and soundtrack their memories. To play an integral part in their lives as your favorite artists do in yours. Impacting people like that doesn’t happen through sexy selfies on the internet. Does that make sense?

What do you want listeners to take away from cartoon therapy?

It’s okay to feel the way you’re feeling right now. Your thoughts are your thoughts and no one can ever take that away from you. No matter what those thoughts are. Life is your movie and you are the main character. Allow your adventure to surprise you.

Every track on the record was produced, written, and engineered by you, which is something that not many artists can claim. As your career grows, do you think you’ll be looking to collaborate more with your peers? And if so, who are some artists you’d love to hop in the studio with?

Yes… I am just starting to experiment with a lot of artists and producers. It is fun. I plan on doing one of those producer albums where it’s just like a million artists hopping on my project. I definitely feel like these first two albums really hammered home the personal and intimate kind of “one-man show” aspect of my music. Now, it’s time to try some other stuff. I want to work with King Krule. 

From your MicroKorg Analog Modeling Synth to your laptop, what’s a piece of hardware you couldn’t live without?

I just bought a real TR-707 drum machine from the ’80s and that thing is my baby!

 What rare interest do you have in something that gets you geeked out? 

I really like traditional Indian music. Also, I have developed an interest in the shortwave analog radio community. 

What’s your plan for the rest of 2021? Is there anything fans can look forward to as summer starts to roll around? 

Yes. I will be releasing the Apocalypse Wow/cartoon therapy double album on vinyl within the next couple of weeks. The inside gatefold is a playable board game, and both discs are colored/see-through. I have a 65-page book that is releasing around that time as well. Full of photos, articles, interviews, and other shit. It will be sweet. I’m also putting out a “deluxe edition” album type of thing in the next couple of weeks. Then, I really want to begin a hibernation-style era of music-making and experimentation.

We’ll be looking forward to that! Finally, who are your ones to watch?

death’s dynamic shroud.wmv, The Frost Children, and  t e l e p a t h テレパシー能力者.

Listen to cartoon therapy below:

#huron john #cartoon therapy #album reviews #interview #anti pop #indie pop #indie

[lovemesomesurveys]

List three people you’ve had crushes on. This guy Will my senior year in high school, Joseph, and Ty. The last two were more than crushes, but yeah. Have you ever been in love with someone that you watched from afar? Those were just little crushes. Like the Will guy from the previous question. I had a big crush on him, but he never knew and that was fine cause I stood no chance with him at all. He knew I existed and all that and we had a couple classes together and talked a little, but that was it. He did dance with me at prom; though, sooo that was something. lol. He was just one of those guys that knew everyone. He was a really nice guy. How old were you when you started your period? 13.

How old were you when you had your first crush? I think my first crush was when I was about 8 or 9.

How old were you when you were first head over heels in love? I consider Joseph to be the first guy I truly fell in love with. I was 22/23 at that time.

Have you ever been in love with someone who made you miserable? Joseph really hurt me. I wasn’t miserable when things were good and I was really caught up in it and blind, but often I felt hurt, confused, and used. I spent too much time crying over him and questioning everything and blaming myself. When the rose colored glasses finally fell off, I saw things for what they really were.

How bad are your worst cramps on a scale of 1-10? I had the worst PMS, or PMDD I think it’s called. I had like every symptom. I no longer have a menstrual cycle; though, due to health related reasons.

Have you ever thrown up from cramps? No, but I often felt nauseous.

List three people you had a hard time forgiving. I’m not as harsh on anyone else as I am on myself. I blame myself for a lot and I’m really hard on myself.

Is there someone you are currently struggling to forgive? Myself.

What is the most physically painful thing you’ve ever experienced? Recovery from surgeries is the worst, as well as really intense back pain.

Do you have an embarrassing period story? If so, what is it? No.

Have you ever had bad cramps in class? Yes.

Have you ever thrown up in school? If so, what happened? Nope.

Have you ever left school because of cramps? No.

Did your school allow you to have pain medicine on you? They didn’t know I did.

Did your school have a nurse? Yeah.

When was the last time you threw up? Back in June.

Have you ever tried to starve yourself in order to lose weight? No.

How old were you when you lost your virginity? I haven’t, yet.

If applicable, what form of birth control do you use? I don’t use any, I’m not sexually active.

What is your sexual orientation? Straight.

Have you ever questioned your sexuality? No.

Are you happy with your gender? Yes.

What gender do you identify as? What gender were you born as? I identify as female and I was born female.

Do you identify as “religious”? Yes.

Have you ever tried drugs? Just weed.

Have you ever gotten high off a prescription medication? Yes.

Have you ever been drunk? Yes.

Have you ever smoked pot? Yes.

Have you ever smoked a cigarette? No.

What’s your favorite drug? I was fine with weed, I just had to be careful with the edibles. Bad experience my first time with them.

What’s your favorite alcoholic beverage? I don’t drink anymore.

How old are you? 29.

Do you drink regularly? I don’t drink at all.

Are/were you abused? No.

Do you have a significant other? If yes, are you happy in your current relationship? If not, are you happy being single right now? I can’t say I’m happy, but it’s what is best right now.

Do you want a significant other? Kind of, but like I said it’s best that I’m single. I got too much going on and I’m way too much of a mess right now.

Do you take drugs or drink to numb your pain? I have.

Who is your current crush? I don’t have one.

Who is your current friend crush? Friend crush?

Do you prefer tampons or pads? I used pads.

Have you ever used a tampon? No.

What’s your bra size? 36B.

Do you have a hard time finding bras in your size? No.

Can you still wear clothes from the children’s section? I could.

Are you lonely? Sometimes.

Did your parents give you “the talk”? My mom did.

How old were you when your parents talked to you about puberty? Like 12.

Do you like going to the doctor? No.

Do you like going to the dentist? Nooo.

Do you think you are attractive? I think I look okay with the right filter, angle, and lighting. ha. If only I could have a Snapchat filter on me all the time in real life.

Are you happy with the way you look? No. The lack of effort I put into my appearance now is wild. I at least used to try.

Do you look more like your mom or your dad? My mom.

What was the last thing you baked? Funfetti cake.

Does your computer run slow? No.

If you’re a Christian, do you love your enemies? If you’re a Christian, do you sometimes forget to love your enemies? If you’re a Christian, what’s your favorite version of the Bible? We should strive to be forgiving, loving, and kind. Your enemies need it the most. Of course that’s not always easy to do, but we can always try and be better. I could go into a big thing about that and I actually just read a devotional that talks about this that corresponds to Jonah.

Who is the most spiritual person you know? I don’t know.

What type of surveys do you like the best? Ones with original questions that require you to elaborate. I also like ones with questions about things currently going on in my life because those answers are going to change more often than whether I like how I look or what my favourite colour is.<<< I agree.

Have you ever accidentally overdosed on a drug? No.

Do you have the same worldview as your parents? Generally yeah. <<<

What is your favorite forum game? A what?

Do you like to play Truth or Dare? Nah.

Would you ever start a vlog? No. It’d be incredibly boring.

Has anyone ever mistaken you for a celebrity? Ha, no.

Are your dreams coming true yet? I’d have to figure out what my dreams are first. <<< I’m in the same boat.

Do you struggle with depression? I struggled with it, but it won. What makes you laugh the most? My brother. Are you haunted by your past? No.

Do you believe ADHD is real? Uh, yes.

Have you ever questioned your sanity? Oh yes. What medical conditions do you have? Chronic pain, depression, anxiety, and some other stuff. Have you ever had low self-esteem? That’s what I’ve always had. Do you use a Magic Bullet? No.

What are your favorite things to put in smoothies? I’m a simple gal, just give me bananas and strawberries. Or just bananas, honestly.

What does your apron look like? I don’t have one.

What do you want to name your first child? I’m not having kids.

Would you ever name a child after yourself?

Is there a guy or girl you wish things had worked out with? I really wish things would have worked out with Ty.

What makes you nauseous? My medication when taken on an empty stomach.

What are your favorite spicy foods? I can’t eat spicy food anymore. :( I was obsessed with once upon a time.

Which do you like better: being an adult or being a kid? I really miss being a kid.

Were you excited to be a teenager on your thirteenth birthday? I might have been.

Did you feel insecure in high school? Ohhhh yes.

Do you think there are different types of depression? There are.

Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? I had a friend who struggled with that.

What is the antidote to self-harm? (If you don’t know, don’t answer.) Uhh.

Who was the biggest bully in high school? There wasn’t one.

What was your favorite class in high school? English.

Would you rather have a daughter or a son? Sigh.

Are you woman, man, boy, or girl? Woman.

Have you ever written to an advice columnist? No.

What color is your Christmas tree? Green. We get a real one every year.

Do you celebrate Christmas? Yes, I love Christmas.

Do you celebrate Halloween? I mean, we decorate and I used to be more into dressing up but that has lessened these past few years. I went trick-or-treating as a kid. So yeah?

Do you believe all Christians are evil and hypocritical, or only some? Absolutely not. Those aren’t real Christians.

Do you think it’s bullying to tell someone they’re naive? No?

Did you get bullied more as a child, a teenager, or an adult? I didn’t get bullied.

Have you ever broken out in hives? Yes.

Have you ever had a doctor not believe what you told him? I feel that way sometimes.

If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? Yes.

Do you like Lisa Frank? I did as a kid.

What gives you nightmares? Nothing in particular, I just have them sometimes.

Do you dream in black and white or color? I... don’t know. That’s weird. Like... I don’t notice?

Have you ever been in a car accident? No.

Were you ever hospitalized as a child? Yes.

Do you have a conscience now? Yes.

Do you believe everyone has a conscience? No. Some people have a broken conscience switch.

Do you believe that drug addicts and alcoholics should count as people? Wtf.

Are narcotics safe? They’re highly addictive and can be abused. I take them as prescribed for chronic pain, but even still it could be damaging.

Will you vote in the next presidential election? Yes.

What’s your favorite zoo animal? Giraffes.

Are you allergic to your favorite animal? No.

What is the best thing to eat with soup? I like to dip Cheez-Itz or Doritos in my Top Ramen.

Do you eat ice cream with a fork or a spoon? What psycho eats it with a fork?? lol I’m kidding... kinda.

What’s your favorite country besides the USA? You just assume everyone’s favorite is the US? I mean, it’s mine, but still. Besides that, I’d say Sweden.

Are you an adventurous eater? Nope. I’m picky and actually I eat fewer foods now than I used to. I have my go-to’s and I stick to them.

Do you take risks? I’m definitely not one to take risks.

Who was the last friend who turned on you? I’m the shitty friend, not any of mine.

How old were you when you get your first cell phone? 16.

How old were you when you got your first personal laptop? I believe I was 16.

Did you get senior pictures taken? Yeah.

What will you do to save money at your wedding? I don’t plan on getting married.

What was the last thing you bought online? Clothes.

Do you shop online? Yep. That’s how I do all my shopping these days, apart from grocery. Could even do that, too.

What color is your bicycle? I don’t have one.

Do you consider yourself unique? No.

What’s your favorite coffee shop in your town? Starbucks.

Did you attend a youth group? I didn’t.

Did you ever have to take home a fake baby in health class? My middle school did that, but I missed when they did it because I was out for a few months due to surgery. I was pretty bummed I missed out on that.... not. lol.

Do you have any friends of a different ethnicity than you? Yeah.

Are you part Irish? We have some Irish. I really want to do those DNA tests cause I really want to know exactly what I am.

Would you rather wear ivory or white on your wedding day? What color will your bridesmaids wear? Blaaaaah.

What does your first name rhyme with? Nothing.

Have you ever taken a poetry course? No.

Would you ever take a college class just for fun? I had like a fun one I’d try and do each semester while I attended community college to keep sane, but no I wouldn’t go back now and take a class just for fun.

Do you like mowing the lawn? I don’t mow the lawn.

Would you rather have a swimming pool or trampoline? Pool.

What’s your favorite age for kids to be? I don’t have one.

Do you think babies are cute? Yes.

What would you name twin girls? Sighhhhhhhhh.

Are you named after anyone? No.

Who picked your name: your mom or your dad? My mom.

What is your birth order in the family? I’m the middle kid.

Have you ever been in someone’s wedding? No.

Do you want to have a bachelorette party? .....

What season do you want to get married in? OH MY GOSH.

Do you dream about the future a lot? No.

Do you think about your past a lot? Too much.

How good are you at living in the moment? I dwell a lot on the past, and I stress about the present and future. I don’t often stop and live in the moment.

Would you be scared to meet God? I want to meet Him when it’s my time.

Have you ever questioned God’s existence? I did for most of my life until the last couple years.

Do you have a mirror in your room? Yes.

Target or Walmart? I like both.

Is there a Kmart in your town? Not anymore.

Do you think Jasper sounds more like a girl’s name or a boy’s name? Boy.

Who are the cutest babies you know? I have a few baby cousins that I think are cute.

Vanilla frosting or chocolate? Vanilla.

Do you keep up with trends? Some.

Would you ever go to Montana? Maybe?

What’s your favorite foreign cuisine? Italian and Mexican.

Where do you do your grocery shopping? Walmart.

Have you ever moved to another state? No.

Do you have a drawer just for socks? Yep.

Do you wear mismatched socks? No.

Do you enjoy garage sales? I don’t go to any.

When was the last time you prayed with someone? I’m not sure when the last time I prayed with someone else was.

Favorite magazine? I don’t read any.

How far away do you live from the nearest hospital? About 15 minutes.

Are there mansions in your town? No.

Would you decorate for holidays if you had a big house of your own? I decorate now with my small house, but yes I would LOVE to have a big house to decorate.

What is your favorite planet besides earth? I’m good with earth. Do you believe in aliens? I don’t know.

Have you ever won a costume contest? I never entered one.

Pink or red? I like both.

How late did you stay up last night and why? I think it was about 4.

Who were the last two people you texted? My brother and my mom.

What’s currently bothering you? Nothing particular at this exact moment.

Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to? Yes.

Do you and your last ex hate each other? No.

Have you ever been called a slut? No.

Is the person you last texted single? Nope, she’s with my dad.

Have you thought about an ex today? When you brought them up.

Do you know how it feels to be cheated on? No.

What would you say if you found out your last ex was in a relationship? I can’t say that I would love to see him with someone else, but also it’s been years now and I’ve moved on. Although, what does it mean when I say I wouldn’t like seeing him with someone else? It’s more like, I want him to be happy and all that but I also wouldn’t want it thrown in my face. It would bring up feelings and memories. I couldn’t help but wonder about him and I and why he didn’t want to be with me and all that. I guess it’d bring up old feelings. Bleh. It’s hard to explain.

Did you do anything productive today? I had a doctor appointment this morning, but that’s all.

Would you ever get a tattoo? I want one, but I doubt I’ll ever get it done.

Where was the last place you traveled? The beach.

Is someone on your mind right now? Not really.

Can you say the alphabet backwards? I could, but it takes a bit longer.

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? Yes.

What’s irritating you right now? Life.

#personal #text #survey #surveys