#God damn it I am stuck in an endless loop and god will not give me the grace of allowing me to escape

[august-parker]

Finally finishing the last chapter of a fic I've been procrastinating about for over a month, I've been stopping myself from writing other fics because "I just have to finish this one first!"

Even though the chapter turned out ass it's not weighting me down anymore, I can just move on and write something else now

[gilbertscurls]

just friends (until we’re not) — matt sturniolo

TWO ── until we're not

part one

Matt had spent the past two days in absolute hell.

Ever since that almost-moment on Valentine’s Day, his mind had been an endless loop of what ifs and what now?

What if you felt the same way? What if you didn’t? What if he ruined everything? What if he didn’t do anything at all, and that was worse?

He had replayed that night over and over, the way you had leaned into him, the way your fingers had brushed, the way you had stiffened at that damn movie scene. And the way he had chickened out instead of saying something.

Matt wasn’t a coward. At least, he didn’t think he was. But when it came to you—when it came to this—it was different.

Because he couldn’t lose you.

Not just as his best friend, but as you. The person who knew him better than anyone. The person he called when something good or bad or stupid happened. The person he trusted with every piece of himself, even the ones he didn’t always like.

But now, he was standing in front of your apartment door, heart in his throat, palms sweating, and he had a choice.

He could walk away. Pretend nothing had changed. Pretend he wasn’t in love with you.

Or he could tell you the truth.

Matt took a deep breath, trying to steady the pounding of his heart.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, the confession ready to be spoken, to be heard.

But the fear was still there, gnawing at the back of his mind, whispering that he was going to lose you, that he was going to get hurt.

He fought it, the storm of emotions and thoughts, and in the end, the need, the love he felt for you won out.

So he knocked.

A few seconds later, the door swung open, and there you were. Barefoot, in one of those old, oversized sweatshirts you always stole from him, hair a little messy like you’d just woken up from a nap.

And you were staring at him like you knew.

Like you’d been waiting for this, too.

"Hey," you said, voice softer than usual.

"Hey," Matt echoed, hands clenched at his sides. He was so nervous. Which was stupid. It was you. But that was exactly why this mattered so much.

You stepped aside, letting him in, and he followed you to the couch. The same couch where everything had almost changed two nights ago.

You sat down, pulling your legs up beneath you, and he mirrored you without thinking.

"Okay," you said after a moment. "What’s going on?"

Matt huffed out a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Wow. No small talk? No ‘how was your day?’"

"Matt," you said, giving him that look. The one that saw right through him. "Just tell me."

He swallowed hard. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might actually give out.

"You ever feel like you’re standing on the edge of something?" he asked, voice rougher than he intended. "Like… one wrong step and everything changes forever?"

Your brows pulled together. "Yeah," you admitted. "All the time."

Matt let out a shaky breath, nodding. "That’s where I’ve been. The past two days. Stuck on that edge."

You stayed quiet, watching him, waiting.

He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers before curling them into fists. "I was gonna keep pretending. I was gonna let it go, tell myself it didn’t matter."

"Matt—"

"But it does," he cut in, voice barely above a whisper. "It does matter. And I can’t— I won’t pretend anymore."

He finally met your eyes, and god, you were looking at him like you knew. Like maybe you’d always known.

"I love you," he said, and the words felt like ripping off a Band-Aid, terrifying and painful and freeing all at once.

Your breath hitched.

Matt kept going before he lost his nerve.

"I think I’ve loved you forever," he admitted, voice shaking now. "I just— I was scared. I am scared. Because you’re my best friend, and if I mess this up, if I lose you—"

"Matt."

His mouth snapped shut.

You were staring at him, eyes wide, something unreadable in your expression. He braced himself for the worst. For rejection. For awkwardness. For heartbreak.

Instead, you smiled.

It was small at first, hesitant, but then it grew, lighting up your whole face, and suddenly you were laughing.

Matt blinked. "What—"

"You idiot," you said, shaking your head, voice thick with something he couldn’t quite place. "You absolute idiot."

And then you were moving, shifting forward, and before Matt could process what was happening, your hands were in his hair, your lips were on his, and—

Oh.

Oh.

Everything clicked into place.

Matt barely had time to react before his body took over, arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer, kissing you back like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because maybe it was.

Maybe it had always been leading to this.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you rested your forehead against his, fingers still tangled in his hair.

"I love you too, you idiot," you murmured.

Matt let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. "Wait, seriously?"

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. "No, Matt, I just kissed you for fun."

He grinned, heart soaring. "You do that a lot?"

"Shut up," you muttered, but you were smiling too, and then you were kissing him again, and Matt swore he could actually hear the sound of everything falling into place.

So, yeah. Maybe he had been scared. Maybe he had spent too much time standing on the edge, overthinking, hesitating.

But none of that mattered now.

Because he had finally taken the leap.

And you were right there with him.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim, @courta13, @frankdelreyy

[desifemininewoman]

Skincare tips for my sakhis

So, recently I have started earning money on the side and I have started investing and researching on skincare in a better way. So here's my two cents for you guys:

1. Go to a damn dermatologist

I know we all have been there. Bought a lot of stuff based from reel recommendations that didn't really end up helping us at all. See, I know we all feel like its such a hassle going to a dermatologist or that it's pricey or whatever. But pick your poision. Stuck in an endless loop of buying products that end up hurting both your skin and wallet or going to a dermatologist and ending the cycle. Go to the doctor and ask a lot of questions. Get your moneys worth. Don't just go and take whatever prescription they give out either. Talk to them. Ask questions as to why the items they recommend is better. What type of products you should avoid. What ingredients to look out for. Everything. Trust me, it would save you a lot of money.

2. Please, for the love of God, don't buy anything recommended by any social media platform

I am not saying what these people recommend is bad. It might be good. It might even do wonders on your skin. But listen. Most of the time these influencers are paid to promote a brand. It's not an honest review as they claim it to be. Even when it might be a honest review, you need to understand one really important thing. Everybody is different. What they are suggesting you to buy might have worked on them, but it's not guaranteed it might work on you. There are a lot of factors to consider when buying skincare products. Whats your skin type, the environmental factor, your skin retention, etc. So, its always, always, always better to go to the direct source- a dermatologist. And you know look at it this way. A dermatologist have to recommend skincare products that will work on you. Because they need you to trust them. They need it for their business. They are not necessarily trying to promote a certain brand.

3. Opt for non- hormone disruptors and non-fragnant stuff

A lot of commercial skincare products contain hormone disruptors and fragrance, which aren’t ideal for long-term use. I get it – sometimes it feels like buying "clean" products is an expensive luxury, but doing a little research can go a long way, and it’s easier than you think. A lot of apps scan products and list out the harmful ingredients in them. If you are more lazy, then just chatgpt it. I get the money factor. If you don't think you can afford the most clean products atleast buy better alternatives. I am not saying cheap is always bad. Just do your own research before investing your money anywhere.

4. Water, diet and exercise

I know, I know. Everybody says this. Drink your water. Have a good appetite and exercise. But honestly thats the cheapest way for getting the healthy, glowy skin you want. Trust me, I did the math. And I am a person who spends the most on outdoor food. When I saw how much I am really spending on skincare and outdoor food, THAT really humbled me. All you have to do is be consistent. I am not saying drop your junk food. Just put in some work on your own self. There are always alternatives or sneaky ways to work in good food, water and exercise in your daily life. You just have to be willing to do it. I am not saying I have the best diet right now either. All you have to do is get to know yourself better. Try to find out why you lean towards junk food more than healthy food. Why you don't drink your water and just try to combat the issue. Waking up one day and decising you are going to be completely clean is an unfair delusion that will ultimately crash and fail. You have to dig deeper and find the root causes of your habits. Like in my case with food, I realized the reason is convenience. I don't have time to make good food at all. Buying chips is way cheaper and convenient than cooking my own food. When I realized that this is whats stopping me to eat better, I started opting for cleaner snack options. Cause honestly thats the best I can do right now in my current situation. We all are hustling right now. You shouldn't put so much pressure on yourself about these things. It's about trying to be a little better than yesterday. Make small achievable goals. And trust me, it would be very easy to handle the water, diet and exercise routine too.

So, that's all for today! I hope you all have a good day <3

[queenofbaws]

Oh boy do i have some lyrics for you to use as inspiration if you should so choose. They're all gonna be from the song Runaway (From Myself) by Citizen Soldier (which is a super depressing song and not one I like a whole lot, but I did think that most of the lyrics were particularly genius imo)

'I didn't grow up in an abusive home I am one'

'Lately thinking feels like cutting Every thought's a razor blade'

'Wish I could run away from myself But there is no escape When you're the prison cell'

(you can pick and choose which ones you want to play with obviously lol)

at-least-but-not-exactly-six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

---

Sometimes he wished he was half as fucking stupid as Ma liked to make him feel. If he’d been stupid, all of this would be easy; it’d just be living out a movie where all the characters looked a little too familiar, a little too much like you, and instead of having to pay to sit in a theater, you could just bask in the blood and guts for free. There’d be fear, sure, but there wouldn’t be any thinking. There wouldn’t be any guilt.

But Travis wasn’t stupid. Wasn’t even close. And because of that, he knew there was a simple solution to this whole goddamn mess.

He knew they could just kill Caleb and be done with it.

It felt like just another link in the endless chain of shit luck keeping them stuck on that land, miserable and exhausted. If it had been any of them, him or Chris or Bobby, he knew damn well what the marching orders would’ve been. Hell, he wasn’t innocent of that either - if he’d known shooting Chris clean between the eyes would’ve been enough to give the kids a shot at a normal life, there wouldn’t be even a moment of doubt, of hesitation. But as it was, Caleb had been the first, and God help him, he might’ve been able scrounge up the nerve to kill his own brother, but he couldn’t kill Caleb, not when he...reminded him so much of Chris.

There was no getting out of that loop of thought once it set in, and that only ever served to make it worse. It was like being just awake enough to know you were in a nightmare and things were about to get real, real bad; once those thoughts started coming, they just didn’t stop, not until the things he knew but tried to ignore burst their way out of his chest and throat to leave him sore as a skinned knee all over.

It was his job to keep those damn kids safe, because they were his family. His blood.

He’d kill his little brother in a heartbeat, if he had to. If the right person told him to.

Family was the most important thing in the world, and nothing - nothing - mattered half as much as doing right by them.

He could kill Bobby too, he thought. He wouldn’t be happy about it, and he’d be sorry for a long, long time, much longer than if it’d been Chris, but he could do it. Depended on who was giving the order.

It didn’t matter if it took ten years, twenty years, or a hundred and five: He was going to figure out how to get Caleb and Kaylee out of this. Out of the curse, out of the woods, out of the fucking house, out of the shadow that had fermented him and his brothers like the booze collecting dust down cellar.

Worst of all, he knew there would probably come a day where Ma got tired of it. The bullshit. The running around. She’d get tired of the house not being the way she wanted it, the mess of them not behaving the way she wanted, and if she snapped her fingers, Pa sure wouldn’t stop her. If that day came...when it came...he knew he would kill Caleb. He wouldn’t have any choice.

Because family, see...family was the most important thing in the world. You listened to your family. You did what they told you was best. And you sure as shit didn’t shit around questioning their motives when that order came down the pipes.

He wished he was stupid. He wished he was the moron Ma told him he was. If he had been...he wouldn’t have to admit how hollow all that shit rang.

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[maehara-san]

never ever || katsuki bakugo x reader ||

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x F!Reader 

Summary: Jealousy turned into anger and anger turned into a fake relationship. Neither of you were ever this way, looking back where did it all go wrong?

Waring(s): cursing, angst, alcohol, jealousy 

Word Count: 1885

Links: writing donations | masterlist 

A.N: I included my money pool if you guys would like to give me a tip or anything. Please don’t feel obligated to do so, it’s just a way I can help my parents with the bills. Again it’s not by force and thank you so much for your kind feedback!

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back and talk to him?” your friend asked as she handed you a beer. “It would be better to talk than to ignore the issue.”

You thanked her and grabbed the beer. “With the way how things are going...I rather have space for both of us to cool down.”

“I don’t think that’s what you really want though.” a voice behind you spoke up making you turn around to see your long-time friend since high school.

“Well you are an expert in relationships Hitoshi.” you chuckled and hugged him tightly.

“That’s why I am here to help my dear friend out of this mess.” he joked.

“I told you I am fine.” you said, “I will know how to deal with this.” Ally shook her head as she heard your words.

“I don’t believe it. Come on have you ever thought about...leaving him?” she suggested.

You thought back to all the fights you had and the meaningless petty arguments. You didn’t even remember the last date you two were ever been on, ever since you entered your last year of college everything started to become different. You forgot all of the happy memories you had together.

“As much as things have gotten worse...” you sighed and drank your beer feeling the cold liquid move its way down your throat. “I love him...you have no idea how many people have told me to leave him...”

The little bell rang signaling another customer had arrived. His eyes scanned the place looking for a familiar face. “At times I have thought about calling it quits...” you admitted. Hitoshi wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he said.

“Get the fuck off of her before I break your arm.” Bakugo threatened. You’ve never turned around so quickly before.

“Bakugo,” you said.

“Dude we’re only friends and I was consoling her-” Hitoshi explained but he didn’t believe any word coming out from his mouth.

“I didn’t ask you. Let her go before I make sure you never walk again you son of a bitch.” Bakugo said as his jaw tightened.

“I’m not afraid of you.” your friend got up and stood eye to eye with him.

You got in the middle of them both and pushed Bakugo back. “I’m here trying to have a good time with my friends. You have no right to barge in here like this.” you glared at him.

“I came here right on time to make sure this wannabe idiot troll doesn’t do anything to you.”

“Oh buddy I’m not the one who should be afraid of losing something-” Hitoshi edged him on further making Bakugo grab on to his shirt and pulled him to him.

“Stop it!” you yelled, “Let’s go Bakugo.” you managed to pull them apart before he did anything to your friend.

“Bakugo!” you angrily exclaimed. “Let him go!”

Finally, he let Hitoshi go and finally walked away with you. “This isn’t over.” Bakugo held your wrist and walked out of the bar. His grip was strong making it difficult to ease his hold. You could have sworn your hand was about to go numb.

“What are you doing?!” you yelled as Bakugo’s hold got tighter on your wrist. “Hey!” you tried pulling away but nothing was working till you had enough and decided to kick him on the back of his leg.

“What the hell?!” he glared at you as he rubbed the spot you hit him on.

“I told you to let go and you didn’t listen!” at this time all you wanted was to get away from him. “Who the fuck do you think you are dragging me outside like a dog?! I was with my friends!”

“I kept calling you but you never answered then I walk inside and see some guy all over you.” he sneered “I understand now why the fuck you won’t come home anymore.”

Sadness clouded down your features, you looked away feeling like a coward all of a sudden. “You know why...”

“No, I don’t. But how you were acting in there it’s clear to me now,” he said.

“YOU FUCKING KNOW WHY!” you screamed as the anger kept rushing up to the surface and it finally exploded.

At this point, you didn’t care who was looking. “I apologized already last time...” he lowered his voice “What other shit do you want me to say?!”

“And you have the balls to come and get me thinking its okay?” questioned looking him in the eyes. “You promised me...you’d be more understanding but you can’t even trust me when I’m out alone.”

“You pulled that same shit on me last time.” he blurted out “Did you think that i forgot?”

“I did that one time!” you exclaimed “I haven’t done it since then. You on the other hand can’t even let me have fun with my friends!”

Bakugo chuckled bitterly as he looked at you. “You know that’s not true either.”

You breathed in trying to calm yourself before you’d say something you would end up regretting later on. “Look...we talked about this. We promised each other we’d give it another chance to actually trust one another. I’ve been doing my best the least you can do is the same Bakugo.”

He had to admit hearing you say his last name felt like someone tore apart his heart. Hearing you say it so bitterly made him feel more regretful than he already felt for how he had treated you before. He was trying his best to trust you but kept fucking it up each time his anxiety grew. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I have slowly started to trust you! I saw the way that girl looked at you yesterday at the cafe. I didn’t say anything and let it go...it was eating me inside how she kept flirting with you. But I didn’t bother with it....” you sighed “Why can’t you do the same?...”

His gaze moved to the ground trying to form a complete thought to your question. But each time he does his head keeps replaying the image of that guy being close to you. Bakugo knew him, he understood there was nothing going on between you two still it was impossible for him to see that.

“Because I know the kind of guys you attract.” he blurted “You didn’t seem like you wanted to get away from him in the first place.”

“Why...” your eyes were slowly turning glossy “W-why...are you trying to sabotage everything we’ve worked...so hard for...”

“I’m not ruining anything. You have been the one to not care about how I feel!”

“You say I don’t care?” you chuckled in disbelief, “I have tried everything to make this right between us, and you god damn know it!” you exclaimed pointing your finger at him. “I tried going to so many people to find a solution for this. I stayed up thinking what the hell did I do so wrong for our love to suddenly disappear!” small tear droplets began to fall from your eyes. “I kept pushing on with this relationship for the sake trying to recover what we once had...and all you have ever done since then is pick fights with me.”

Bakugo stood still with his hands on his hips and an expressionless face. “You still wonder why I don’t bother coming back to the one place I used to call home?” you wiped away your tears angrily, “I tried being patient with you...but I don’t even know why the hell I bother to try and mend something that probably doesn’t have a chance to repair.”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, his gaze turned to you. “If you felt like giving up...” the next words he said felt foreign as if someone else had taken over his body to speak them. “...you should’ve done it a long time ago then.”

“I thought you loved me...” you whispered, “I guess I was foolish to think that maybe...you would end up changing your ways...”

“This was never an us.” he emphasized on ‘never’ making your heartbreak into little pieces. A sudden pain took over your chest, you never believed people died from broken hearts, but now you understood that wasn’t a myth.

“Please...don’t hurt me like this...” you cried not caring what he thought about your appearance.

Bakugo blinked away the tears “I’m not...you said I never told you the truth so now I am. This was never working not even from the start...I don’t even know why the hell I stood by for so long. Those people were right we shouldn’t even have gotten into this in the first place.”

“And you know why I decided to not give a fuck about what they said?!” you raised your voice “Do you know what I told them when they come out with that none sense?!”

“What something cheesy like you always respond with.” he retorted and smirked.

“That I would give up anything to be with the man that I loved.” his eyes widened for a moment but returned back to normal in a second. It was evidently clear that even he saw how much people told you to leave him. Even then you didn’t budge one bit always came back and tried talking it out no matter how stubborn he was. He was acting like an asshole to the women who always believed in him.

“But looking back now...” you sniffled not looking at him, “Maybe...it was for the best that we never met.”

“y/n...” he whispered.

“It’s obvious that...you don’t care anymore...” you tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ear. “I don’t want to feel stuck in an endless loop filled with a cold shoulder and heartless feelings. I’m not going to continue this...I’m too tired to continue this...” everything in your body collapsed from the inside. Bakugo was having an eternal breakdown seeing you so weak and fragile, he had time to fix things when instead all he did was increase your hardship.

“Look I-”

You raised your hand to stop him from talking. “You win...so please just leave me alone and don’t...contact me again...I’m done.” with a swift movement you walked passed him. His world suddenly stopped and all he saw from the corner of his eyes was your figure leaving...forever.

He closed his eyes tightly letting all the tears roll down his cheeks while his hand tightly formed a fist. “I’m sorry...” was all he said wishing that you heard his apology.

“(y/n)!” a friend of yours yelled and ran over to you seeing you worked up. “Are you okay?”

“yeah...” you weakly responded, “Can we head back I’m kinda...not wanting to stay here anymore.”

“Sure...we can head back to my place instead.” she said.

You thanked her and held on to her as she led you back to the car. Bakugo’s phone buzzed multiple times but ignored it. He hit the car so many times not feeling any pain despite the blood that was coming down the side of his hand. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry...”

‘We can change and learn to grow apart...but my heart as much as it was beaten down and broken by you will always find its way back to you...’ you thought.

[sparklingdust4612]

Music of the moment! Name your three current favorite songs (with reasons/descriptions, if you wish) and tag five people.

Thanks for the tag @endlessnightlock 😁

I usually like a lot of different songs from a lot of different artists but these are my three current favourite ones.

OMG What's happening by Ava Max

Oh, my God, what's happening? Thought I was fine

I told you I don't need your love like three, four thousand times

But that's a lie, no, I can't look you in the eye

Oh, I, oh, I

So I did everything to push you all away

And finally you left and now I'm missin' you like crazy

And I cry, no I can't sleep alone at night

Oh, I, oh, I

Look what you've done, look what you've done to me

I got everything I wanted, but you're everything

You're everything I want

Look what you've done to me

Didn't know I was alone 'til I was runnin' to your

Runnin' to your heart

This song has just been running around in my mind because its just so damn Katniss-y lol. Like, the lyrics make me just want to write something where Katniss sings this to Peeta. Its got this romantic undertone and I am sucker for secret feelings lmao

Down by Jay Sean

Baby don't worry, you are my only (ooh)

You won't be lonely, even if the sky is falling down

You'll be my only, no need to worry

Baby are you down down down down down? (Down, down)

Baby are you down down down down down? (Down, down)

Even if the sky is falling down?

I just love this part! I know its technically the chorus but its so Peeta... With heavy romance and serenading feels, its perfect for looping when I am feeling particularly sappy lmao

Arms of Gold by Tape Machines

Now that I'm looking back, I can see all the signs

I tried to fill in the cracks, that was spread in my mind

But I was all out of hope, lost in an endless maze

The emptiness had unfolded, just like a void but

You

Broke the coldness somehow

And lit up a flame

And oh

I was done feeling hopeless, screamed out loud

Because it

Felt impossible, in my bones

Like getting blood out of a stone, on my own

But you came around

And removed the thorn, in my soul

You guided me out of the storm, I found a home

In your arms of gold

In your arms of gold

In your arms of gold

In your arms of gold

Major In another life feels (my ghost!Peeta fic). We all know Katniss is a little emotionally confused due to circumstances. Imagine the fact she witnessed the guy she was secretly crushing on get shot and killed in front of her...Of course she just loses her shit and life will seem much worse than it already did.

Now imagine Peeta coming back as a ghost and showing her life could still be good and she can find love with a ghost (who cares that there's a lot more drama in that fic but yeah) this song gives me major inspiration for that fic and even though I am not writing it aka its complete and beta'd, just waiting to be posted, the song wont leave my brain lol

Man down by Rihanna (bonus lol)

Just heard a cover of this song on instagram, the french girl sang it in such an adorable accent and her voice was pretty nice so it sorta stuck lol

I will tag....

@creamytinydays @softlikethesunset12 @bethpeaches123 @shewakesupwiththesun @mrspeetamellark

[kyber-kisses]

Torrential (3/3)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: more cursing, more fluff, more Dean being totally in love and not knowing what to do

Summary: Deans tries to keep his feelings buried, but its extremely hard when Y/N is just so damn perfect.

A/n: I’m sorry this took so long to finish, i currently have the worst case of writers block and it feels like I've been stuck in an endless loop of zero inspiration. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

It was like some sort of weird drug.

That was one of the only ways Dean could describe his feelings. Everything was fine one second, and the next? You’d just waltz into the room and his palms would get sweaty and he would suddenly be stumbling on his words. 

Okay- so more accurately you were like a drug, and Dean was addicted. He partially blamed Sam for this. He was the one that had helped him realize his feelings towards you. His little brother had got him hooked on the drug that was Y/N Y/L/N.

For a moment he also blamed the damn thunderstorm still raging outside. It hadn’t let up and with each passing day Dean swore that he was falling deeper in love with you. You would still sit with the door open while you read and every once and awhile you would just patter into the room drenched to the bone with a smile that out shined the sun smeared across your face.

You were addicted to the rain just like the older Winchester was addicted to you. You came in drenched with water and Dean stayed drenched in love. It was somehow poetic, and the hunter had no idea what to do with it. He’d never felt this way about anyone before.

You had gotten up from your armchair awhile ago, disappearing into the confines of the bunker to do knows what, leaving him to steep in silence as he tried to come to terms with the truth. Even if it had been days, he still found it hard to believe. Should he tell you? Or should he just keep it buried as his little secret until eventually time ran out?

So caught up in his thoughts, He almost didn’t notice your return until you were siding up next to where he was seated, the laptop in front of him going unnoticed as he stayed locked in the zone.

“Grilled cheese for your thoughts?” You smiled, offering over the delicacy you had balanced on a plate, earning his attention as he turned to look at you.

“You made me grilled cheese?”

“Uh, yeah? You seemed a bit out of it earlier so I thought what better way to gain your attention than to bribe you with cheese and bread?” You grinned, sticking the plate out for him to take.

“You know me so well.”

“I know.” Sinking down into the chair besides him, you crossed your arms. “You wanna tell me why you’ve been acting so off lately?”

“I haven’t been acting off.”

Raising an eyebrow, you swiped half of the sandwich. “Try again cowboy. You’ve been awfully quiet these past few days.”

Shit. Had he really been that off? He thought he had been covering it up just fine. Clearly that was not the case.

Dean let out a sigh, picking off little pieces of crust from his portion of the sandwich. He just had to try and cover it up again. Throw you off so you didn’t poke anymore. He was afraid that if you did he wouldn’t be able to hold anything back.

“Do you wanna go on a walk?”

and there went that plan. . .

“A walk? Dean, it’s raining.” You shot him a quizzed look, his question catching you even more off guard. “And no offense but I thought you hated the rain.”

“I don’t hate it!” He fired back, standing up and reaching for his coat. “It’s just not- my ideal weather.”

Watching him walk towards the stairs, you tried to piece together what was going on with him, only to come up blank. You couldn’t for the life of you pin point why he was acting so weird.

“You coming or not?”

“Sheesh, calm down. Let me put on my jacket.” Tugging the canvas material over you body you let your feet carry you quickly across the room and up the stairs, Dean grabbing the lone umbrella that stayed propped against the railing most days.

Holding the door open for you, you stepped out into what felt like a never ending downpour. Rain beaded down the paintwork of the impala, bouncing off of every hard surface. The sound coming from every direction except down and the storm drains bubbling with brown runoff from the lonely dirt road. There was a subtle swoosh sound from behind you and a moment later the feeling of water dripping onto your head ceased, Dean standing besides you with the open umbrella:

“You know, you’re probably the last person I ever expected to just get up and go on a walk with. You shun exercise.”

“Oh shut up. This isn’t exercise.” Stepping up the stone stairs side by side, Dean adjusted his grip on the umbrella, making sure you were both protected from the downpour- not that you cared though. “This is- this is a leisurely stroll.”

“Ah. Got it. . . Still not like you at all.” You shot him an amused grin before linking your arm with his and pulling yourself closer to the Winchester. Thankfully for Dean, you hadn’t noticed his surprised look when you did it, the tender action catching him off guard as he looked down at your linked arms. Everything in him was telling him to pull away, to sever the connection before he fell even further. . . But he couldn’t. It was like a magnet kept him close to you, making it impossible for him to do anything rationally.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of your boots hitting the shallow puddles almost being drowned out by the droplets smacking against the material of the umbrella.

“Why do you like the rain so much?” He suddenly questioned, shifting to stick his free hand into his pocket. “You never told me.”

And like so many times before, Dena watched as your eyes lit up, a soft smile pulling at your lips and making the corners of your eyes crinkle. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just wondering.”

“You want the long answer or the sort one?”

Dean shrugged, doing his best to act casual in the whole situation. “I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

You smile grew at his response, taking in the hunter as you did so. How could someone be so complicated and so simple at the same time?

“I love the rain. I always have. It brings life and fills the earth. It smells good too- it smells fresh. Clean.” You paused. “And the sound? People always explain it as a steady pitter patter but I always compared it to the crackle of an old radio coming to life. The rain has always made me feel safe and secure. kind of like you.”

You paused once more, looking over the hunter you still linked arms with, taken back by his expression.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that? Is it really that cheesy?”

“No,no.” Dean quickly interjected, the soft smile on his lips slowly growing, eyes full as he gave you his attention. “I just like hearing you talk about things you love. You get excited.”

At that your grin grew, eyes almost as bright as his. “And what about you, Dean Winchester?”

“What about me?”

“What things do you love? What things make you happy? Besides double bacon cheeseburgers and your car of course.”

Dean tried to hide the falter in his steps, almost soaking his foot in a puddle with the action. So. . . He may have dug himself into a small hole with that one small comment.

Quick, Dean. Give her an answer. . . Preferably not the first thing that comes to mind.

“Y/N, you already know the things I love.”

“I know some things. I doubt I know everything.” You corrected him, giving his bicep a squeeze as you did.

“I love hunting, and classic rock.”

“Dean, I already know those things!”

The hunter shrugged in defense, practically white knuckling the umbrella handle in a futile attempt to keep himself in check. “I don’t know what to tell you Y/N! You know everything about me!”

“Oh c’mon. There has to be something. Give me something that will surprise me.”

“Y/n, I’m telling you. You already know what I love. I can’t surprise you.”

With a groan you un-linked your arm from his, once again stepping out into the downpour, tilting your face skyward. “And I’m telling you: I sincerely doubt that.”

“You do know if you do that your gonna have to walk back in wet clothes, right?” Dean grinned, watching as you hopped into a puddle, the childish part of you shining through with the small action as you got distracted.

“Does it look like I care?”

And then before the older Winchester even had a chance to react to ripped the umbrella from his grasp and snapped it shut, successful drenching him in a similar fashion to yourself.

“Y/N! What the hell?!”

“It’s just water, silly.” You laughed, suddenly choosing to hop from puddle to puddle momentarily. “Sure, it doesn’t look partially nice from under the umbrella, but once you’re out in it, it ain’t so bad.”

Squinting through the sheet of rain dividing you, Dean took in your features. tiny rivulets of water slid down your face, dripping of the top of your nose and collecting on your lips. Your hair at this point slicked back by the amount of water it had collected as well. 

God, you were beautiful.

“You.”

Your childish antics quickly ceased, your figure spinning around to face him. “What?”

“You asked me what do I love. That’s my answer.” He swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to do so. “You. I’m- im in love with you.”

It was almost painful to stand there and watch you. Your eyes widened and you froze in the middle of a particularly big puddle, the last of the ripples you had made slowly beginning to fade. You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Okay, you gonna say something or you just gonna stand there and make me feel even more uncomfortable than I already am?”

You stayed silent for another minute, successfully stunned to silence by his words. Dean Winchester. . . In love with you?

“Me?”

“Yes, You.”

“Are you sure? I’m fucking crazy.”

“Yes, I’m damn sure. Why do you think I’ve been so quiet lately?” He paused, drawing in a breath.

“That’s why you were so quiet?! I thought you were mad at me!”

“I wasn’t mad at you!” Stomping through the small puddles, Dean came to a halt in front of you, wiping the rain from his vision, even if it only lasted a moment. “I just- I didn’t know what to do. I love you- I’ve been in love with you Y/N. Probably long before I even realized I was.” It was like the rain was a whole different kind of liquid courage, because like a switch being flicked the words just flowed out easily.

There was silence from your end again as you took in his words and then slowly but surely a smile spread across your face. “Dean.”

“What?”

“Well, I thought we were saying things we loved, right?”

It took a minute for the gears to click into place in his brain but you could pinpoint the moment they aligned, Deans eyes widening at the realization. “Wait- you-“ he never finished because you quickly flung your arms around him, and sweetly pressed your lips against his.

And then the bastard slipped. He fucking slipped. You don’t know how but all off a sudden his arms were around you, and his feet went out from underneath him, and Dean Winchester successfully pulled you to the muddy earth with him, your heads bonking during the decent as you let out a yell.

Except this time the hunter softened your fall as you landed on his chest, earning a harsh oof from him.

“Oh god, I’m sorry-“ bracing your hands on either side of his head, you pushed most of your body weight off him, your face hovering bunches from his own.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay. Are you? I think I crushed your lungs.” The words slowly fading on your lips as you quickly lost yourself in his eyes.

“Y/N.”

“Dean.” His name left your lips breathlessly, and then his arms snakes around your waist and pulled you flush against him, and you were kissing again. Dean swore he could taste the rainwater on your lips, and they were even more lush then they looked. His hands curled along your back, tracing your shape as he did.

Okay- so maybe you were right. The real thing wasn’t so bad once you stepped out into the downpour. It might be unsettling at first- but the feeling soon melts away.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Maybe love is like rain. Sometimes gentle, sometimes torrential, flooding, eroding, joyful, steady, filling the earth, collecting in underground springs. When it rains, when we love, life grows. - Carol Gilligan

SPN Taglist (still open)

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[aghasexxy]

Roll The Dice Pt. 2 | Jackson Wang

Pairing: Reader x Jackson

Words: 1962

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Dirty Talk/ ORAL PLAY/ Rough and Passionate

Summary: it’s been a few weeks since you and Jackson had a rather interesting time back at his condo in Seoul. Now you guys are together again and you want to ask him about that night. He gives you the answer you never thought you’d hear and an experience you never knew you needed until now.

I lodge my spoon back into my almost empty jar of Nutella and sigh loudly. My home is empty and too big to watch Train To Busan by myself. I have a list of people I could call to come and enjoy the movie with me, but there’s only one person on my mind: Jackson. Ever since that night in Seoul, I haven’t been able to see him the same. The morning after that whole thing, it surprisingly wasn’t awkward between us. Not in the slightest. I’m a firm believer in the fact that it was most likely because of how tipsey we both were when we got to the condo, especially me. The things he did to me that night, or lack thereof, have been stuck on a constant loop for way too long and I can’t take it anymore. Sure, I genuinely want to hang out with him, but I also want to see if that was just a drunken experience or something else.

I pick up my phone and flip through until I find his name. I click the FaceTime button and wait until I see his face. After about three rings, his handsome chiseled face pops up on the screen. His hair was swept back and his eyes were covered by yellow framed sunglasses. I study his face and notice how apparent the stubble on his face is. Goddamn, my best friend is so handsome. “Yo Y/N! What’s up girl?” I clear my throat. “I’m bored and alone at home and I wanna watch Train To Busan. Can you come over?” He grins and nods his head. “Be there in 10. I’ll bring drinks and food as well cause I haven’t eaten and you probably haven’t had any real food.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “Ummm,” I flash the almost empty jar of Nutella proudly for him to see. “Excuse you, we have company and she can hear you.” He rolls his eyes. “Peanut butter will forever reign supreme but go off I guess. See you in 10.” And before I can protest against his obnoxious claim, he hangs up.

I stare at my screen, realizing what I just did. For the first time ever, I jump up and dash to the restroom to freshen up. I put on perfume, shave my legs and pits, Hell I even put on deodorant. I do all of this when I’m going out for a date, not if I’m just having company over, let alone Jackson. Am I trying to impress him? What the hell am I even doing? I grab a black crop top and throw it on with some grey sweat shorts. I scoff at myself and shake my head. I’ve known Jackson my entire life and not once did I have to go over and above to make myself presentable to him. But this time around, things are different. The tension in the air, when it’s just us two, is different.

My doorbell rings right at the 10 minute mark and I almost shit myself. I internally scold myself. ‘Girl chill out! What is wrong with you?? It’s literally just Jackson! Be cool.” I take in a breath and twist my doorknob. There, standing in the doorway with Cucina red wine, a box of pizza, and an endless supply of Tim Tams, is Jackson. He’s wearing black from head to toe. From his black suede shoes and leather jacket to the worn v-neck T-shirt on his toned chest, he just looks like he’s here to cause trouble. And I’m okay with that. “Uh,” he interrupts my staring and I snap out of it. “Oh uh yeah come in.” He scrunches his eyebrows and proceeds to walk past me. “Okay you’re acting weird as hell but I’m hungry and I wanna see this movie so we shall discuss that later.” He shoves a slice of pizza into his mouth and jumps onto my couch. “Bring your ass over here. I’m ready to watch zombies.” His voice sends shivers throughout my entire body but I clear my throat, grab the wine, and sit down. On the opposite side of the couch. I mentally scold myself again. I’m trying so hard to not be weird that I end up being fucking weird. I turn towards Jackson and see him looking at me, scrunched eyebrows and that playboy grin I’ve come to know and love.

“There’s something you wanna talk about. But you don’t want to talk about it either. I can tell.” I sigh and throw my head back. “Yeah,” I whine and take a swig of the Cucina. “What’s going on,” I hear him say and the next thing I know he’s right next to me with his arm draped over the back of the couch. He stares intently at me, waiting to hear what I have to say. His cologne and overall being hit me like a truck and I choke on my words for a second. “Y/N,” he says softly. ‘Oh god Jackson don’t say my name like that! Don’t make this any harder than it already is!” I inhale, exhale, then turn to face him. I could feel my nerves start to rise and I couldn’t even look him in the face. Holy fuck, why am I getting so damn nervous?? This is Jackson I’m talking to. We literally use to play in the mud in our diapers as toddlers and now I’m sitting here trying to muster up the courage to say that I see him as more than my best friend. “Okay,” I say out loud as I clap my hands together. I look at him and see him resting his head on his hand as he stares at me with the dreamiest eyes. “You’re so cute when you get nervous,” he says softly. Again, not helping. “Listen Jackson,” my thumbs start to twiddle as I try to find my words. “What happened in Seoul?” His eyes widen slightly but his pose stays the same. “Elaborate.” I inhale. “When we played that dice game. At the condo,” he inches closer to me. “Mhmm.” I intertwine my fingers together. “Do you remember that?,” I ask timidly. “Mhmm,” he says again, his eyes never leaving my face. I rub my temples and eyes trying to get my thoughts together. “I just-,” “Y/N you haven’t looked me in the eye once since you started this whole rant,” he inches even closer and I feel the air between us disappearing more. “Look at me please,” he places his hand under my chin gently, lifting it so that our eyes meet. In all the years I’ve known him, he’d always had this hard exterior that was close to impossible to break around other people. He kept it cool but not too cool to the point where he’d be seen as a pushover. But, when it came to me, he was always so sweet and loving and gentle. From the way he spoke to even the way he touched me. And I would melt every time. “Now continue,” he says softly. “I, um,” I clear my throat. How do I even say this? “When you, um, did what you did,” he pushes my hair behind my ear as I struggle to speak. “Was it because you and I were drunk or is there something else I should know about?” I wanna shrink or turn invisible so bad but I’m here now and can’t run away from how I’m feeling no matter how hard I try. He sighs and smirks. “Yeah,” he looks down and shakes his head. “That was a very interesting and revealing night Y/N,” his eyes shoot back up to me and I shudder. He runs his fingers gently over my thigh, the ticklish sensation sending chills all over my body. He starts to speak again. “You ever just want someone so fucking much,” my eyes grow wide as he makes circles on my thigh lightly. “that when you see them after wanting them for so long, all lines blur and you just...do something about it,” he stops his hand and looks at me. I feel my face burning and I know my cheeks are red as beets. “Y/N I’ve known you my entire life. You have confided in me for absolutely everything,” he strokes my face and jaw gently as he keeps his eyes locked onto mine. “I know everything about you. From your favorite food to when your time of the month is,” I see him shudder a bit and I giggle. “I also know everything you want and need when it comes to intimacy,” his hand comes down to the side of my neck. He strokes it gently and I giggle again. “Jackson you know I’m ticklish,” I say between giggles. He nods. “I know,” he comes in closer and I see his head dip to the side. “Where are y-” I feel his breath on my neck and I gasp. He speaks softly. “Which is why I also know,” he gives my neck a quick peck and my hand shoots up to grip his arm. His lips trace my earlobe and I shudder at the feeling of his warm breath. “You love neck kisses,” I feel his strong arm wrap around my waist

“because not only is it ticklish, but that's also how a guy can start to get you going,” he shrugs. “Or at least that’s what you’ve told me. Let’s see if it’s true princess,” and with that, his lips attach to my neck, causing me to yelp and start giggling again. Before I can ask him what the hell he was doing, my mind zeros in on the feeling of his lips on my neck and I try to steady my breathing. Fuck this feels so good. I’m at a complete loss for words. Never did I imagine, in a million years, that my best friend would be pleasuring me in my living room. He’s slow and gentle and damn he smells amazing. “Jackson…,” his grip tightens and his lips work harder on my neck. I moan slightly and he stops for a moment. “There it is,” he whispers as his hand travels down to my chest. “There’s that beautiful sound I miss so much.” He looks down at my chest and his hand rests on my boob. “You know what else I know Y/N?,” he says in a low tone. I get shy again. “W-what?” “That your nipples and breasts are very, very sensitive.” His hand rests on the bottom rim of my shirt. “May I?” He looks up at me for approval before he moves further. I nod. “I trust you,” I whisper.

He takes his hand and goes under my shirt. He starts to massage my breast slowly. My eyes are transfixed on his hand massaging me and I am loving what I’m seeing. I gasp when I feel his lips on my neck again. I close my eyes and let him do what he wants. He’s right, he’s the only guy I’ve confided in about all the things that turn me off and all the things that get me riled up. I whimper softly as my nipples begin to get hard. I feel his lips curve into a grin. I feel his index and thumb grip my nipple and begin to pinch and twist. I bite my lip and moan again. “J-Jackson...fuck.” He stops and looks at me. Our eyes lock on each other as we both try to catch our breath. I don’t know what comes over me

but I kiss him.

[pinepickled]

Vent post. Proceed at your own risk

Why is everything my fault. Why am I never allowed to be sad or angry or upset or even happy. Am I just a robot? Friends, family, authority figures, I'm just expected to be an unfeeling little doll that just blindly takes abuse and moves on. I'm hurting so badly every day and no one notices. No one cares. When I try to talk about what's going on I'm taken for a joke or just ignored.

I just want to be alone at this point. I don't want to finish my degree or keep working my job or talk to people who don't care about me. I hate doing this every God damn day. I thought I'd gotten over the suicidal thoughts a while ago but they're back and finals is probably making all of this really really worse but what can I do? What can I fucking do? I'm stuck in this stupid endless loop of pain and swallowing everything down and more pain and one of these days if I don't snap ill die. I tried my best to be a rational and put together person because I have no other option but why am I here performing the duties when I'm just so goddamn unhappy? And I know it'll never get better. I know in my soul that this is it. That from here it's probably even more down hill. Why couldn't I have been born with parents that loved me? With a family that wasn't a mess? In a city where the schools are poor and the people are shitty?

I just can't do this anymore. Something has to change, something has to give, or there will be no more Pine in the future.

[ryanmeft]

MCU Final Battles from Worst to Best, Part Two

I hear there’s a movie coming out tomorrow that people are looking forward to. Infinity War promises to be the biggest fight in the MCU to date, but what about the other ones? Here’s part two of my list ranking every final battle in the MCU to date. The link to Part One is below.

Part One: http://ryanmeft.tumblr.com/post/173198399342/mcu-final-battles-from-worst-to-best-part-one

WARNING: THIS LIST THOROUGHLY SPOILS THE END OF EVERY MCU MOVIE. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.

10. Spider-Man: Homecoming

What Happens

Spidey and Vulture battle in the skies and on a beach over a stolen crate of Stark weaponry.

Why it’s not half bad

The battle itself is nothing special, and forgoes some opportunities to take greater advantage of Spider-Man’s powers and Vulture’s flight. The best parts involve the interactions between the two, stemming from the fact that, whereas usually the hero doesn’t want to hurt the villain, this time the villain doesn’t really want to hurt the hero, either. The big finish, with Spidey dragging Vulture from the mess he himself caused, is golden, but overall it felt like the battle itself could have been more.

9. Ant-Man

What Happens

Ant-Man and Yellowjacket battle mostly at microscopic size in AM’s daughter’s playroom, using her toys as weapons.

Why It’s Not Half Bad

The creative use of toys like Cassie’s train set pushes this one up on the list. It’s genuinely funny and creative to see the way a child’s toy world is transformed into a battleground, and highlights the fact that the movie’s greatest strength was the interplay of bite-sized powers with the real world. The stakes are lighter than in any other MCU movie, which takes some of the urgency out of it, but this is wisely made up for by the use of humor in a way that recalls older, more physical silent films.

8. Black Panther

What Happens

Amid a wider battle for Wakanda, T’Challa and Killmonger both don identical Black Panther suits and face off with each other, and a train.

Why It’s Not Half Bad

Because the big battle between competing Wakandan factions is really, really cool, to the point where even a few ridiculous rhinos can’t dampen it. You can really feel the stakes in this one, since it amount to BP’s own little civil war. Sure, it was a little bizarre that they tried to make big drama out of Killmonger offing a random, nameless extra, but whatevs.

Sadly, in a movie so full of neat new ideas, the writers fall back on the most tired trope in superhero movies: two similarly-equipped combatants in a mirror match while the environment occasionally gets in the way. They already did this in Iron Man, Captain America, Ant-Man, and The Incredible Hulk, and several other non-MCU films have used the concept, so it feels like something that was pulled out of Script 101 and stuck in the middle of a better fight. Killmonger’s emotional death, however, adds enough feels to boost it.

7. Thor

What Happens

Loki tries to destroy Ice Person Land to prove he’s a better son, and Thor, who has learned compassion in, like, three days because of a pretty woman, goes a few rounds with him over this.

Why it’s Not Half Bad

The internal logic of this one is really spotty---why does Loki think destroying the world Odin stopped Thor from destroying will make him daddy’s favorite? All we care about is the actual fight, though, and it has a lot of cool touches. Thor’s brute force is pitted nicely against Loki’s cunning and bag of tricks, and Thor ends their one-on-one duel by taking a page from Loki’s book and using a trick instead of a punch; the hammer-on-the-chest thing was clever. While the “consequences” of Thor destroying the Rainbow Bridge to stop Loki’s plan were wiped away with a couple lines of dialogue in subsequent films, that’s irrelevant on this list, and in the moment, it was a surprisingly ballsy move.

6. Iron Man 3

What Happens

Iron Man uses all his resources, including multiple Iron Man armors, to to combat a baddie against which no one suit would have been enough. Then Super Gwyneth Paltrow almost ruins it.

Why it’s Not Half Bad

Yes, Super Gwyneth Paltrow was bad. Real bad. There was no reason to drag out the final battle to get that in there, especially since Tony’s initial solution of wrapping Guy Pearce in armor and making the armor go boom was basically his Mortal Kombat fatality, and it was AWESOME. But the rest of the battle still has that creative thrill that the other Iron Man finales, and most superhero flicks, are missing. Tony running between platforms and jumping between armors runs the danger of making things seem too much like a video game, but the movie pulls it off and gives us a great note to go out on for what is likely the last Iron Man finale we’ll see (at least until the 2030 reboot of the universe).

5. Thor: Ragnarok

What Happens

Thor, Loki, Valkyrie, Hulk and Karl Urban throw themselves against the forces of Hela, before ultimately deciding they must unleash a demon and destroy Asgard to defeat her.

Why It’s Awesome

The stakes for this one are higher than almost any other Marvel movie, and while some viewers might have been disappointed by the highly humorous tone of the film, the final fight is all business. The ultimate result---Thor and Loki have to destroy their entire world to prevent Hela gaining control over all the universe---is easily the biggest sacrifice a Marvel hero has made, and the battle has the secondary effect of justifying why Thor keeps Loki around. The battle itself is a little less impressive than the big finale. Basically, it’s another instance of the heroes throwing themselves at a clone army led by a nigh-invincible super baddie. Hulk vs. Fenris was cool, though.

4. Marvel’s The Avengers

What Happens

Loki opens a portal to the far reaches of space, allowing an alien army through to attack New York, and the newly formed Avengers, ahem, assemble to stop him and them.

Why It’s Awesome

For better or worse, this one set the tone for most of the non-solo MCU films that followed. It became predictable and, as a result, boring after a few years, but it still felt relatively fresh here. Everything about it, from the banter between the team members to the endless wealth of creative moves pulled---Hawkeye’s exploding arrow was a particular highlight---worked nearly effortlessly. And, of course, there was arguably the greatest single moment in any MCU fight to date. There’ve been few wonderfully hilarious surprises as great as “Puny God” in any superhero film, period. Like all such big fights (see the Lord of the Rings trilogy for more examples) it doesn’t quite have the same impact when you’ve seen it a few times, but it holds up better than a lot of others on repeat viewings.

3. Guardians of the Galaxy

What Happens

A gigantic fleet mostly fails to stop Monotone Space General from using an Infinity Stone to wipe out his race’s rival planet, so the Guardians land and stop him using the power of friendship and sick 80’s dance moves.

Why It’s Awesome

You might be asking why this one is so high on the list. The space battle is effective but not revolutionary, and for a moment it looks like we’ll get a typical Marvel ending to a fairly atypical Marvel movie. Then it busts out what I’m fairly sure has never happened in another movie: an intergalactic, genocidal warlord gets defeated by the power of friendship and a dance-off. That a cosmic baddie who is supposed to be nigh-unstoppable gets taken down by the song “O-o-h Child” is not only a riotously funny surprise, but for a movie that doesn’t take itself too seriously, the remaining Guardians joining together to use the power of the, well, Power Stone is shockingly effective. In terms of group-of-heroes vs. army-of-bad-guys style showdowns, this one is hard to top.

2. Doctor Strange

What Happens

Doctor Strange and company battle Kaecelius’s zealots, before Strange ends Dormammu’s threat to earth by trapping him in a time loop.

Why It’s Awesome

Because it’s not only clever and unexpected, but it fully utilizes the trippy, LSD-ish visual style and insane plotting that typified Steve Ditko’s famous 60’s original run. Even if you don’t care about that, though, there’s little question that trapping Dormammu in a time loop that Strange will only break if he leaves is not your typical showdown. Strange dying over and over again, having volunteered himself to suffer forever in order to protect humanity, has the air of ancient mythology about it, and is just damn effective, to boot. The movie itself had a mixed reception from fans, and you don’t hear much talk about it now, but it had a lot of interesting plot beats, and this was the best.

1. Captain America: Civil War

What Happens

Zemo leads the heroes to believe he’s going to unleash an army of Winter Soldiers on the world, but when they go to stop him, they find his plan is actually to turn them against themselves.

Why It’s The Best

This one has it all. First, since this basically an Avengers film in many ways, we’re led to expect the typical Avengers ending, with the heroes squaring off against an army of personality-free super-baddies. I actually audibly groaned when the plot revealed the existence of a Winter Soldier program. “Here we go again”, I thought. I can’t overstate my satisfaction when it turned out to be deliberate feint on both the part of the filmmakers and the bad guy.

Of course, a final showdown was necessary---this is still a popcorn movie, even if it is one of the best. More than any other MCU film, though, this one needed to feel personal, and boy did it ever. On every level, from direction to writing to acting, Iron Man squaring off with Captain America one-on-one for the right to kill Cap’s best friend for assassinating Tony’s parents was perfectly executed. All the little details, from Downey’s face when the truth is revealed to the undramatic way Cap drops his shield and Stark’s despair over the whole thing, are as pitch perfect as movies like this get. This was the last movie with most of the traditional team before Infinity War promises to shuffle the deck, and if its the de facto end of an era, it could hardly have ended on a more gripping note. These movies may not be Citizen Kane, but this came as close to greatness as they get.

[theshopislocal]

corinth rains

New and improved Heaven may well be the Happiest Place (not) on Earth. But Dean, it turns out, is still Dean.

(also on AO3)

chapter seven

Dean remembers this place.

He’d only been here once before, some fifty odd years ago, but it’s etched into his memory so clearly, it might’ve been yesterday.

It’s a little different than the last time he was here. The forest is new - if it could even be called a forest; Dean’s counted twenty-three charred, spindly trees. They provide a sparse canopy, shrouding the old barn in speckled half-light. The facade is mostly unchanged, though the red paint is a little more chipped, the foundation brickwork more weathered than he recalls. And of course, the weather is mild, warm and bright, with none of the storm clouds Sam had mentioned.

The last time Dean was here, there’d been heavy wind and soaring sparks. Lightning.

Dean blows out a breath and cranes his head over his shoulder, peering at Baby where she’s parked at the dead end.

The road through the pass had been tortuous, winding across the mountain in steep slopes and sharp turns. Dean had ridden the clutch hard, one hand on the wheel, the other patting the dash - soothing Baby as she climbed the jagged hills. The descent had been slow and smooth; foot gentling the brake, he’d soared down the mountainside, and the vista rose before him like a sunrise.

Sam had undersold it. It wasn’t just miles of hayfields, it was a seemingly endless expanse of yellow and gold, trembling under the wind. In Heaven’s perfect visibility, there was no skyline at all - just the ever-reaching stretch of dry pastures, tapering off into the sky a thousand miles out.

And in the distance, Dean had spotted the old barn in the little forest - a tiny black scar on the gilded plain.

As he’d approached, the highway had run rougher, the smooth black pavement giving way to dusty gravel. He’d sped along the dirt road a little faster than he rightfully should have, and he’d smoothed his hands over Baby’s steering column, promising her a tuneup when they got home.

The road had ended in a quaint little cul-de-sac, maybe ten yards from the barn. Dean had parked at the dead end, idling. He’d passed a short while with his hands clenched on the wheel, eyes squinted at the barn doors, arguing with the voices in his head - all of which sounded infinitely more reasonable than he himself.

All I could think about was chasin’ that storm... Personally, I’d just knock on their door... Got everything you thought you wanted... You’ll know it when you find it... If you’re looking for rain—

Dean had learned pretty quickly that any road in Heaven would take him to the main highway. And the main highway ends here, running afield a stone’s throw from the little forest, with its half-burnt trees and familiar old barn.

All roads lead—

Dean turns back to the towering doors. Before he can think better of it, he presses his weight against one side, nudging it ajar. It creaks something awful, and Dean winces at the sound, halting his movement.

There’s a short, pointed silence, and then a familiar noise from somewhere inside - a soft, airy flutter.

He squeezes his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.

Dean is a great many things, very few of them virtuous, but let it never be said he’s a coward. He presses his arm against the door and sidesteps through the narrow opening.

It’s dark and musty inside. The air hangs thick and humid, dust clouds swirling in the flickering light shafts. Dean squints then blinks hard, eyes falling to an illuminated spot on the ground.

The first thing he sees is spray paint.

White symbols litter the floor - some he recognizes, some he doesn’t, some he’d painted himself. His eyes catch on a sigil on the wall - a septagram done in dripping black paint. He remembers the feel of the brush in his hand, the drag of the bristles across the dry-rotted wall, the clench of his fingers around the grip as he painted the seven lines, awaiting the arrival of the next Big Bad.

His left arm had tingled at the bicep, hot and cold at the same time, buzzing along his nervous system like a shock. For an instant, he’d felt a constriction across his chest, a heavy weight at his back, as if someone were clutching him, holding him. Carrying him.

There’s a shifting movement at the far end of the room, and Dean’s eyes snap to it. The man standing there - no, not a man, something else, something else - makes a slow volte face.

A rusted metal light overhead flickers on, and the shadow recedes.

Dean sucks in a breath, throat constricting, and he nearly chokes on air. He gapes for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a damned fish, before he finally gets his tongue to cooperate.

“Hey, Cas,” he whispers, and fuck, it’s been so damn long since he last said those words. They feel dusty, cobwebbed in his mouth.

Cas - oh god, Cas - steps forward until his toes just cross the penumbra. He looks—

Dean’s throat goes tight again, his lungs compressing around his quick beating heart. Apropos of nothing, it occurs to him that his heart shouldn’t beat at all; he’s dead, after all.

He doesn’t feel dead right now.

Cas looks precisely as he had the day — I know how you see yourself — he died. The day he was taken by darkness, drained away — knowing you has changed me — for daring to feel, for allowing himself to have, for seeing and wanting and taking his own happin—

“Hello, Dean.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Dean stares, and Cas stares back. Dean’s not sure what expression he’s wearing; his whole damn face has gone numb, though he feels little beads of flop sweat forming at his hairline.

Cas, for his part, is staring placidly at Dean, gaze leveled somewhere around Dean’s nose. His eyes shine a deep limpid blue, pink-rimmed with pronounced bags underneath. He looks tired and a little grumpy, hair mussed and trench coat rumpled. His tie is loose, the skinny end dangling free of the keeper loop.

For the first time in forty years, the recursive whisper in Dean’s head is his own: It’s Cas, it’s Cas, it’s Cas, it’s C—

Dean swallows hard around the lump in his throat. “How ya doin’, bud?”

It’s a ridiculous question, somehow loaded and stupid at the same time. He’s not seen Cas in forty - forty - years. That’s as long as Dean’s human life. As long as he spent in the Pit. And ancient, eldritch, and celestial though Cas may be, Dean thinks that forty years rebuilding Heaven - forty years of radio silence - must be more than a blip on his radar.

“I am well,” Cas says flatly, and okay, so maybe Dean’s wrong. “Thank you.” Cas tips his head forward, eyes falling to the ground. “How are you?”

How... how is he?

Dean supposes he should’ve expected that; it’s not like it isn’t the first question everyone asks. Not like he didn’t just ask Cas himself.

I am well.

Something cold and hard forms in his stomach, and Dean shakes his head, eyes wide and unblinking, stuck to Cas’ like glue. “I’m good,” lie. “Yeah, I’m- I’m real good,” fucking lie. “You, uh...”

I am well.

Forty years, nearly half a damn century, and the sun beating down from a cloudless sky, and eaten alive by the Void, and spit back out again, and not a peep, not a word, not a goddamn whisper, save the ones in Dean’s stupid heart that shouldn’t beat anyway and he’s- Cas is—

Cas is well.

Something rises inside Dean, cresting in his throat like a tidal wave, and he speaks shortly, sharply, before he can think better of it. “Where the hell you been, man?”

Cas’ eyes flutter shut, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “My work with- with the Arch is...” he trails off on a deep sigh, before glancing toward Dean’s face with arched eyebrows and hooded eyes, “...strenuous. Time-consuming.”

Dean huffs a brittle laugh and finally looks away. His eyes find the septagram again, and he grits his teeth. “That’s, uh,” another dry laugh, “that’s why I haven’t seen you in, what... forty years?”

He sees Cas bow his head in his peripheral vision. “Time is—”

“Different here, yeah,” Dean snorts.

He’s heard that one a few times, but it never quite rings true. They’d said the same thing about Hell, too; but Dean had felt every torturous second there, remembers them all in high-def technicolor, just as he remembers every bleak, desperate moment of his human life, just as he remembers the endless drive across Heaven, waiting for Sam to meet him at the bridge, sitting on his bench at the end of the pier, casting his line and never catching anything—

“I’ve been busy,” Cas grumbles, shoulders hunching.

Dean feels a broad, bitter smile crack his face like a fault line. “Busy,” he repeats, choking out a laugh.

Cas’ jaw goes taut, chin dropping to his chest. “Dean—”

“Busy?” Dean says again. His voice cracks a little, and he swallows hard, face warming in shame - or perhaps anger. Dean’s never been real good at telling one from the other.

Castiel steps further into the weak lamplight, all squared shoulders and downturned lips. “Jack has put a great deal of faith in me,” he grunts out, voice pitched just above a growl. “I have responsibilities, Dean.”

Dean’s head bounces in a nod, jittery with upset. He makes a broad gesture with shaking hands. “And you couldn’t have told me that sometime in the last—”

“I’m telling you now.”

Cas’ voice is low and flat, but bold, unyielding, with an almost imperceptible vein of irritation. He sounds much as he did when Dean first met him: driven and no-nonsense, all righteous fury and unshakable faith. Inhuman.

I dragged you out of Hell, he’d said - stood too close, eyes too blue. I can throw you back in.

“Ya know,” Dean says in a harsh whisper, “you don’t seem real happy to see me.”

Cas’ eyes fall closed at that, shoulders sagging low. His spine forms a desolate curve, and he finally meets Dean’s eye.

In the half-light, the hills and valleys of his face are shadowed, his eyes a murky ocean blue. He’s got that look he gets sometimes: sad but... bigger. Moved and helpless - like he’s watching a Greek tragedy unfold in real time.

And perhaps he is.

His lips part, dry and sticking together at the sides. “I am,” he breathes out, “happy to see you. Dean.”

Dean holds his gaze, and holds, and holds. His stomach still feels heavy, his chest hollow, temples throbbing with his erratic pulse, the ever-present headache a sharp point in the center of his forehead.

Just as his eyes start to sting - his vision going hazy at the edges - there’s a soft, tinkling sound from the other end of the barn. Wind chimes, Dean thinks. Corinthian bells.

Cas looks over his shoulder in the vague direction of the noise. Dean tracks his gaze to the two long work tables at the rear, cluttered with various odds and ends. He spots a mortar and pestle, a few little glass vials strewn haphazardly about, a couple candles, and a short stack of books. He recognizes the binding - the same as the ones in the Library.

The chimes play again, muted and strangely echo-less in the space, though Dean can’t see anything that could be producing the sound. More weird Heaven magic, he figures.

Cas turns back toward Dean, blank-faced and eyes downcast. “I’m needed elsewhere,” he murmurs, stepping backwards out of the pool of light. His shoulders shift strangely, spine going ramrod straight. It’s a familiar motion, though it takes Dean a minute to place why. It must be something close to fifty years since he last saw it - a weird little twitch, like something’s pulling at Cas from behind, like he’s counterbalancing a weight on his back—

Oh.

Realization dawns, and Dean’s jaw goes slack.

Cas got his wings back.

Cas can fly.

No sooner has Dean thought it than the arching stretch of a shadow blooms across the barn walls. It’s been years - decades - since Dean last saw them, and even then, they’d been painted in ash on the wet dirt, misshapen and sparsely feathered. But these - these are something else entirely.

Their shadow seems to fill the whole barn, distorting at the corners of the room where their sheer size forces the silhouette to bend. The feathers are pristine, all the peaks and divots at uniform intervals, their tips spanning clear across the side walls.

They’re huge and imposing, magnificent and a little terrifying. Awesome, Dean thinks, more literally than ever before.

The air catches in Dean’s throat, somewhere between a sigh and a gasp. “Cas,” he croaks.

Cas’ shoulders rise, and the winged shadows along with them. He hunches forward, knees bending slightly. Ready for takeoff.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, glancing off to the side.

Dean gets the sense he’s apologizing for more than just his imminent departure - and no, no, that isn’t why Dean’s here. He doesn’t want an apology; he’s not even angry - just a little bruised, and, really, when isn’t he? He can’t think of a single moment in his life - or his afterlife, for that matter - where nothing hurt, where nothing stung, where the ache in his chest didn’t prod at him with cold, blunt fingers.

He extends a hand toward Cas’ retreating figure, mouth tripping over his name, and the light overhead flickers out. He spares barely an instant to glance at it, and when he turns back, Cas is gone.

Cas is... gone.

Dean’s hand hangs in the air, callused fingertips reaching toward nothing. Without the lamplight, or the feathered shadows, or the humming, electric presence of an angel - of Cas - the barn is dark and just cold enough to draw Dean’s shoulders up.

His eyes squint, trying in vain to adjust to the darkness, and a headache pokes at the back of his skull. He’s sure his heart is still needlessly beating, but he doesn’t feel it anymore.

chapter six | chapter eight

table of contents

[internallydeceased]

Jamie drags Claire up early one morning for a hike nearby Lallybroch (for exercise, he says!) Claire is half asleep but begrudging goes along. Turns out Jamie prepared a romantic surprise! 😊🌄🌈

A Different PathIt was a big step in their relationship, bringing Claire to Lallybroch. She had thought that they would spend the weekend visiting places significant to Jamie’s childhood before spending the remainder of the day in bed. And yet here he was, arisen before the sun had even made the slightest appearance in the sky.

“Jamie, it’s isn’t even 6 AM.” She groaned, rolling over so that her back was turned to him.

“Aye, I know. But this is something I used to do every morning, and now ye’re comin’ with me.”

“I am not.” She said, covering her head with a pillow.

“Sassenach,” his tone a warning. “If ye don’t get up by yourself, I will drag ye from this bed and dress you myself. Do you want me to do that?”

She peered at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed.

“Fine.” She said crossly, throwing the covers off of herself and leaving the comfort of their bed.

Jamie smirked, watching her step towards the dresser to retrieve some fresh clothes. She was completely naked, and even though the room was pitch black, he could still see every inch of her.

“There. I’m dressed.”

“So ye are.” Jamie smiled before giving her a peck on the lips and, taking her hand, lead her outside.

“Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going at bloody five o'clock in the morning?” She called from behind him, his stride much larger than hers.

In the faint gray light, she could see the outline of his smile as he peered over his shoulder at her.  Damn him.

“And where’s the fun in that?” He said as they came to a hill at the edge of woods.

Jamie started up the hill, the incline and rough footing making no difference to him. Adversely, Claire was already out of breath long before the halfway mark.

Out of breath as she watched her footing as she marched over the rocky terrain, she shouted ahead, “Jamie! Slow down!”

The sun was just over the horizon now, painting the sky in various shades of orange and blue.

“We’re almost there!” Jamie shouted back, not slowing down in the slightest.

They walked until they came to a small clearing, where the light came through the trees in such a way that made it look like something from a fairy-tale. There was a tartan blanket laid out in the center of the clearing, along with a picnic basket and a bottle of champagne.

Jamie finally came to a stop, for which Claire was grateful, but in no way did she expect to see this.

“Jamie what-” Her voice was softer now, her tone holding nothing but affection.

“Shhh. Come.” He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the spread.

In the basket there were various kinds of cheese, along with an assortment of fruits and a few bagels with the option of cream cheese to go with it. He pulled two glasses, which Claire noted were in exceptional condition, from the basket and handed her one once she was sitting.

Her eyes never left his face as he poured the champagne, still trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. His blue eyes sparkled in the light of the dawn, the sun highlighting his hair so that she could see every shade of copper, cinnamon and auburn.

God, how did I get so lucky? She thought, eating the food he prepared as the sun silently rose above the trees.

“Okay, you were right.” Claire admitted as they laid together in the grass, fingers intertwined.

“About?” He played dumb, but she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“About coming here.” She said, rolling onto her side to face him. He lifted a hand to caress her cheek, one finger running down the line of her jaw before coming to rest under her chin, lifting her face towards his.

She melted into him as he kissed her, the world around her disappearing until it was just the two of them. He pulled away and looked deep into her eyes before speaking.

“One more thing.” He said, reaching into his pocket.

She laughed, sitting up. “There’s more?”

Then he was facing her again, a small, black velvet box in his hand. He opened the lid and inside there was a silver ring, with tiny thistles carved into the band, entwining with one another.

“Claire, I’ve wanted to do this since the first moment I saw ye…” He paused. “Do ye remember when I told you that I used to hike this trail every morning?”

Her eyes were glassy with tears, emotion taking hold of her. All she could do was nod her head.

“I took this same path every day, just like I did with everything else. The scenery was the same and my feelings never changed, like I was stuck on an endless loop that was destined to be that way.” A faint smile made its way onto his face as he continued. “But one day, I took a different path, did something different. And that same day, when I wasn’t paying attention, I ran into someone. Quite literally; my shirt’s still stained with coffee.”

Claire laughed a little, remembering the day.

“That person was you, Sassenach. That was the day it all changed–the day when my future became clear.” Jamie swallowed, doing his best not to shed a tear. He took her left hand in his, his thumb caressing her knuckles.

“My future is you, Claire. And if there’s one without you in it, I don’t want to live it. You are the love of my life, mo cridhe, and I want to walk the rest of this path with you.” He swallowed again, quickly glancing down at their joined hands before meeting her eyes once more.

“Will you marry me?”

[hotcocosharing]

Second Chance Part 15 (IM RP)

Shunichiro Tachibana 

To say I’m shocked to find Midori lying next to me would be an understatement. Have I been so out of my mind to a point where I retain no memory of sleeping with her- is my initial first question but judging by how fully clothed we are, I sigh in relief before walking down the memory lane of the exact reason that brings me in this very spot. Sharing the same bed with my ex girlfriend who pushes me away then invites me to a launch party which I now realize we have both missed out.

Watching the innocent look on Midori’s quiet face as she drools (ever so little) on the covers and imagining her hilarious reaction about sleeping though the night with make up- how it ruins her perfect skin and how much money or spa she would need to undo the damage. The not so peaceful morning is quickly escalates by the sound of heavy rain outside that suddenly accompanies by the loud clack of thunder, causing the angelic face to wake in distress and confusion for a second follow by her real panicking realization to the fact that I am staring at her overnight makeup and morning look which consider to be all women (and maybe men) nightmare.

But what are we more afraid of? The storm outside or what’s up ahead?

After a rush breakfast buffet downstairs, I wait for Midori as she checks out and offers to drive her home under such crazy weather, “It’s the least I’d do to make it up to you.” It doesn’t take too much convincing for her to hop in the car, suspecting that she wants back at her sanctuary as soon as possible after such eventful yet boring night.

Midori remains quiet through out the ride and after the fail attempt to ease the funny tension with the radio which obviously has no reception under the state of rain so my lips part and ask something I never should. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head and replies with such calm that I am so frustratingly familiar with, “It’s nothing.”

And here we go, witnessing, experiencing history all over again, looping in the endless hell of nothingness while she is obviously upset about something!

[ It’s nothing. ]

Probably the most annoying sentence on earth, at least it manages to enlighten the fire in me every single damn time! The mystery of Midi’s departure till this day has never been satisfactorily explained, and I have good reason to resent this regrettably familiar statement.

A sudden loud pop follow by one of the tires flopping over and over again comes quickly after one another. I curse, figuring that it’s just my luck to be stuck in a car under the heavy rain with a heated conversation (storm) coming any minute now.

“Damn it!” Letting out another curse as I carefully pull over and hear Midori asks if I’ve got a flat tire. “Oh no, it’s nothing. We are just stuck!” A silence descends while more words pouring out in my chaotic mind- we are stuck again, stuck with each other, not going anywhere, neither going forward or backward is on the menu and I fucking hate being stuck. I’m a creative director, I don’t get stuck!

Midori stays quiet, there’s no sound except for the raindrops hitting the windows. “Enough!” I raise my voice with clenched fists on the wheel, “just go right ahead and say it! I have neither the time nor mood to play mind reading, we are way too old for this, don’t you think?”

She’s still quiet.

“What is it Midori? What did I do this time? I’m sorry I got sick and ruined your precious opportunity to attend the party! I’ve work to do too, a few hours of sleep was all I got, so yeah sorry I didn’t have the luxury to take better care of myself! Is that it, an apology? Is that what you want? Or because I was late? Or I forgot to reply a text? Or was it the fact that I chose the suite instead of your place? What the fuck was it, Midori? Or do you want to run out the door like last time without telling me a reason that I don’t ever deserve?!”

The weather forecast’s right, I am still under the curse of a gloomy weekend, just fucking great!

Midori Katayani 

It’s December 24th at a little after 10pm and he’s still nowhere to be seen. I’m in his apartment - standing in the kitchen, looking out the window to waste time which overlooks the city scape below and frames the hustle and bustle of the busy city near picturesquely and it hits me that I’m lonely. The helpless, naïve – completely out of my control feeling consumes me faster than the rain that’s starting to fall and I’m starting to wonder if he’ll even make it home for Christmas at all.

“Baby it’s business, but I promise… I’ll make it home.” “I know but so close to Christmas? I mean – it’s our first together and, and… I know I’m just being selfish but I don’t want you to go.”

That night had been the first of a tangent string of squabbling and bickering and fighting and whatever other name or term it could have been called but it was at that moment that I realized for the first time, for the very first time how much one person could mean to me. I figured I was allowed to be selfish – I was in love, or at least that’s what I thought the feeling was. Head over heels, take your breath away and make you smile crazy in love which I never assumed in my wildest dreams I’d actually be experiencing.

Had you asked me then – perhaps even now; the feeling was just too good to be true. As the rain kept on calling, harder and harder, a monotone storm brewing up ahead, the crashing sounds of thunder and lightning coaxed me, convinced me that I should go to bed.

But he’ll be here soon —.

Folding my arms across my chest in his oversized sweater that I’d sat in all day and which still lingered in his scent, another roar of thunder rumbled over head. Biting my lip worriedly, I was about to call it a night when the sound of keys jingling at the door grabbed my attention. He was here – he’d kept his promise. He was home.

—-

The sound of thunder vibrating  softly across the hotel suite windows was enough to wake me up. The last few years I’d turned into a light sleeper, something I didn’t really enjoy but none the less – my paranoia had risen after I had to get use to once again sleeping alone. Groaning as I rub my eyes and shift with a wiggle to get comfortable on the bed, it’s another clack of thunder that wakes me – completely and I push myself half up to sit in bed.

“Shu…Shun – Shunichiro?”

I can tell that I’m definitely not dreaming but a panic begins to run like electricity through my veins as the sight of my ex in a bed next to me – watching me…fuck. I know for a fact we didn’t do anything last night; I mean I wouldn’t be complaining if something had happened but I’m well aware that apart from a ridiculously failed attempt at a rekindled first kiss my luck ran dry rather quickly.

We’re both silent – it’s not quite an awkward silence yet not a comfortable one either. Things seem to stay this way between the not so delicate tip to around one another through to the breakfast buffet and then finally, the offer to be driven home. I snap the opportunity up quicker than one could ever say yes – my bags are thrown into the car quicker than imaginable and like I always use to; I slip quickly into the passenger seat.

A part of me wonders if Shun will need directions to find my place yet he hasn’t asked so I don’t bother with speaking up. The city looks different from the passengers seat; or at least in my eyes it does – I start noticing the little things I usually take for granted and miss out on when I’m driving myself or busy with my eyes glued to my phone in the back of the cab and in the midst of enjoying the serenity, Shun decides to stupidly, in my own opinion – ruin the silence by opening his mouth and asking my all time most hated question.

“What’s wrong?”

As a woman – I can tell you right now that even though I’ve got a million and one things which are racing around inside my head, my answer – just as anyone elses of this sex is always the same.

“It’s nothing”, I whisper, trying to regain focus on what’s happening outside and around the car. I know he hates the answer; even after all this years apart he’s clenching the steering wheel tight, the whites of his knuckles starting to show. I’m sure if I answered his question like that one more time just out of sheer utter frustration Shunichiro would explode. It’s more mumbling and grumbling and a bit of cursing as we pull over onto the side of a street and I ask the typical overly obvious female question as to whether there’s something wrong with the car and get a near typical male reaction back which doesn’t exactly help me in understanding what the hell is going on.

Silence – we’ve been reduced to sitting in silence with the radio cutting out and I can tell that Shun’s been stretched out thin to his last limits because he’s constantly putting a pressure on himself that he just doesn’t need. Something extra to just push himself over the edge. As the rain starts pouring harder and harder, I half contain a giggle at the fact the animosity between us has grown thick enough that it’d need to be carved through with a sword and whilst he’s never usually one to raise his voice – Mr near always cool, calm and collected bring to the surface everything it seems, that not just recently has been bothering him.

I try not to let his words have any affect one me yet it’s the last thing he says which causes a knee jerk reaction that coaxes me to snap.

[“Or do you want to run out the door like last time without telling me a reason that I don’t ever deserve?!”]

“You want a reason?”, oh shit Midi no… this is bad, bite your tongue, bite your tongue it won’t be worth it in the end. Of course – I wouldn’t be me if I had the ability to keep my mouth shut.

“Fine! I’ll give you a god damn reason – you never talk to me and you’re never there. Okay! It doesn’t matter if you fall sick because you know I’ll be there to take care of you. I don’t care about not going to the party last night because honestly, it was fucking nice just to spend a little time with you. I’ve never cared if you’ve been late or if you don’t text back because I know that’s just you and you’ll be there. I doesn’t matter to me that you picked the suite instead of my place because let’s be honest here if you were in my place and I in yours I’d have made the same decision to. I miss us talking. I miss how trusting we were and how honest we use to be. I miss staying up until early in the morning discussing things which could wait until another day but we didn’t want them to. It got to the point where we just stopped talking – I don’t know if we just got bored, if we were keeping secrets or if we were tired or perhaps we just didn’t need to but then whenever we did it always about work. That became like the biggest and only priority for you and then because of work, because of the job you were basically in a full time relationship with you stopped being there. You were hardly ever there. It just became a vicious cycle of work, talk about work, not there because of work, work, work, work, work, work and I get it – you like your job, but if you showed and expressed as much enthusiasm as you did about that with me we wouldn’t be having this fucking conversation.”

Sighing with a huff and unbuckling my seat belt to lean over and pull the button which popped open the car trunk where I knew the spare tyre would be, I gritted my teeth before getting out, instantly regretting having worn white on a day like today but at least the rain would conceal the tears I had swelling in the corners of my eyes.

“Give me fifteen fucking minutes and I’ll change the god damn tyre”, I snapped not bothered to continue with the argument that we were having, “..and then I want a response – none of this falling into silence because it’s an easy excuse.”

[zentherainbowunicorn]

Everlasting Party - Mystic Messenger Time Loop AU (pt 31)

<- Previous Chapter | Chapter Index | Next Chapter ->

Summary: You’re caught in a time loop during the 11 days leading up to the RFA’s party unless you can do… what, exactly?

13+ Spoilers for Day 9 of Jumin’s route.

Instead of feeling guilty over such a long time between updates, I have instead decided that I shall make a triumphant return and aim for a new update schedule of every other week or so. I am damn determined to finish what I started ;) Thanks so much for the people who have stuck with me so long! I really really appreciate it :”)

Also, a zillion kudos to Masdevallia on AO3 for helping me make sense of my draft lol. Enjoy!

Seven taps the screen a few times to sign out of the RFA messenger and opens up his contacts to find V’s number. He glances over at Yoosung, who’s several feet away and looking just about everywhere except at the giant green-roofed palace visible in the distance. He’d burst out of the car as soon as they had stopped, clearly dying to stretch his legs, but now he kept walking in tight circles and looking at his phone. Seven sighs and looks away again. He’d had been selfish in bringing Yoosung along; if anything went wrong and something happened to Yoosung, he’d hate himself for the rest of his life. But it was nice to have someone he trusted by his side.

He walks a little farther from Yoosung so that the younger boy won’t be able to listen to his conversation, but just as he’s about to call V an Incoming Call message flashes up on the screen and his thumb lands on the “answer” button. Wait. What?

Seven stares at his phone in slight bewilderment, watching the “call time” seconds count up. Then he slowly holds the phone up to his ear.

“Seven? Seven.” A sigh, and her voice sounds more distant from the phone. “He picked up, didn’t he? Then—”

“Beep beep beep. You have reached Agent Seven-Zero-Seven. Beep beep beep. Please state your business.”

“I—oh. I thought maybe you weren’t going to pick up. I’ve been trying to contact you since last night. I was hoping to catch you since I just missed you in the chatroom.” It’s been a while since he talked to the RFA’s new member, it’s true. Part of it was due to the fact that he’d been driving nearly all night, and the other part was that he knew he’d probably just worry the RFA more by explaining the situation. They’d want to know what he and Yoosung were doing out here, and what’s happening with the hacker, and—

“Seven? You’re still there, right?”

“O-oh,” he says. “Of course! Reception isn’t that good in the countryside, you know~ What’s on your mind?”

“Well I um… have you read the messages from earlier?” Her voice is oddly high-pitched, and he wishes that he could see her expression.

Seven pulls at the strings of his hoodie and traces a line in the dirt with his shoe. “We’ve been driving all night, so I…” …haven’t had a chance to? He could have, though; before he sent that message telling the RFA what to do if he went missing, he could have scrolled through the messages from the night before, but he didn’t because he didn’t want to be distracted. There’s enough on his mind already.

“No, no, of course,” she blurts out, as though she doesn’t want him to feel guilty. “I just ah… well, you see, I’m still at Jumin’s and he’s been… I mean, everything’s fine, but…” Her voice starts to quiver on the last few words.

“Hey,” Seven says, lowering his voice. “Are you all right?”

“Yes of course, I’m… I’m…” He hears a sniffle and it sounds like she’s clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh god, I’m sorry, don’t get the wrong idea, I-I’m really okay, I’m just… just stressed and I…” Her voice gets very quiet and Seven puts his hand over his other ear to catch her next words. “Seven, I can’t handle being here. I thought I was fine, but I don’t know how to help Jumin and I’m not sure why it won’t… why it won’t…”

Seven walks a few paces to his left, stops, and walks back to his original position. This is hardly his area of expertise, and making a joke to lighten the mood like he usually does doesn’t exactly seem appropriate. “Can Jaehee go pick you up? Or talk some sense into Jumin?”

“She tried! She came last night but he sent her away without even talking with her.” She sniffles again, but her next words sound a bit steadier. “Do you think you can tell V to come here? He’s the only other person I could think of.”

Funny, he’d been just about to call V, before she’d called him. “Of course. I won’t be able to call you again for a while, though. You’ll be all right?”

“I’ll be okay. Thank you,” Pause. “…Luciel.”

He can’t remember if he’s heard her call him Luciel before. He’s not sure how it makes him feel. “Okay~! Agent Seven-Zero-Seven, signing off. Sayonara!” He pulls the phone away from his ear and watches the screen, waiting for her to hang up first. A few seconds later, she does, and he sighs. When did everything get this complicated? They were just supposed to be a charity organization…

He scrolls back to V’s number again and dials it.

“V? It’s me.”

***

There’s a boy outside Mint Eye. Blonde. Short. Looks a bit like a high school student. Why the hell would someone like that be here?

“Oh my god! You really are Jumin’s cat!” The blond boy is crouching down and talking to something. “Why are you here? Everyone’s been looking for you…”

No, wait. This is… Yoosung. Yoosung Kim. He’s with the RFA.

Shit. If this boy is here, the RFA’s hacker is sure to be, too.

“Wait.”

The boy—Yoosung—freezes. There’s a white cat by his feet. “Yes?”

“Where are you taking that cat?”

Yoosung turns around and pales when he sees the person he’s talking to. He looks at the tattoo on the other boy’s shoulder, then at his face. “O-oh, uh, she’s… my friend’s cat. She went missing and there’s an ad for her online, so we were just… I mean, I’ll just go now, if that’s okay.” A drop of sweat beads on Yoosung’s forehead and he offers a shaky smile.

He doesn’t return the smile. “Sorry, I can’t let you leave just yet. Who did you say you came here with?”

“D-did I say that? I must have made a mistake; I’m just passing by~!”

“Yoosung!” Someone else is calling after the boy. A redhead emerges from the trees and jogs towards them.

Yoosung’s shoulders sag with relief at the sight of the newcomer, who yells “What are you doing over there?”

“Seven…! Where were you? I was worried!”

“I was more worried. I told you to stay in the car!”

‘Seven’… haha. Of course I’d meet him here.

The redhead is tugging at Yoosung’s jacket. “I apologize~ We were just passing by!”

Does he know?

The fake smile the redhead was wearing drops as he looks at the boy with the tattoos. “Yoosung,” he says, “run.”

Yoosung’s mind seems to stall. “What?”

“Run! Go to the car! Now!” He shoves at Yoosung’s back and the boy stumbles before starting to run away. Oddly enough, the cat follows at his heels.

“So you figured it out,” the tattooed boy says.

“What do you mean? We were just on a picnic and got lost~ Sorry to bother you!”

“I know you’re lying… Luciel.”

That causes him to stop. “…Who are you?”

The tattooed boy’s hands shake, and he curls them into fists. He doesn’t know. Of course he doesn’t know. Probably didn’t give him a second thought after leaving him behind. “You don’t remember…” he says, his nails biting into his palms. “You forgot about me. I knew it.” A short, bitter laugh escapes his lips. “You know how long I’ve thought about what I would do when I saw you again? It wasn’t supposed to be like this, though. You’re not supposed to be here.”

The redhead’s eyes widen. Now he understands. “You… no, that isn’t…you can’t be…”

“So you recognize me now? How does it make you feel, Luciel?” He spits out the word like it’s acid and the other man takes a step backwards, his face growing pale. “I hear you got rid of your name, too.” Trying to forget about me? Did you ever feel guilty?

He’s shaking his head, as though he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing in front of him. “No, you… the RFA…”

“How is your new member doing? I’m sure she just loves living in that apartment, with the special security system and all…” He’s really rubbing it in, isn’t he? But he needs to see a reaction from him. It’s not enough for the RFA’s hacker to be surprised, or horrified, no… he has to feel the same sense of despair, the pain of endless days filled with nothing but hopelessness...

“This isn’t…” His eyes are wide and unfocused behind his striped glasses. “Rika told me…!”

There’s a loud engine noise to the left and both boys turn to watch a fancy sports car screech to a stop behind the redhead. The blond boy from earlier sticks his head out the window and shouts “Seven!!! Get in the car!”

“Huh? Yoosung…!”

“Hurry up! Haven’t you seen any action movies?”

With a pained glance back at the pale boy standing in front of the palace in the mountains, the redhead gets into the car with his friend and drives away, leaving the other boy in a cloud of dust.

Slowly, he uncurls his fist and glances down to see the tiny cuts he’s carved into his palms. Dammit. Dammit. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to show up here and mess with their plans, and he wasn’t supposed to know about Mint Eye until later. The next time they met, he was supposed to have the upper hand, with all of Mint Eye backing him. Then the other boy would see how very wrong he’d been. This was all… wrong…

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I always love hearing what you think, if you wanna leave a comment or send me an ask! Here’s a link to the masterpost of all my Mystic Messenger fics. Thank you very much for reading! ♥

[sorryparis-forihavesinned]

Addicts.

I’m my own therapist. I solve my own issues and realize the reasoning behind myself. I didn’t really have a childhood, unlike my brother and sister. They grew up in a neighborhood, they had my grandma longer than me, they had friends, my parents had a steady income and my family were together all the time. It seemed that when I was born everything went to shit. By the time I was born, my father was a full fledged alcoholic and pill head. My grandma died and my family fell apart. We went bankrupt and we never had enough money. I didn’t have many friends and when I did, they didn’t like me, for multiply reasons such as, I was too quiet, weird, dumb, fat, ugly, annoying or obnoxious. I was never really a child either and every time I tried to be a kid I was criticized or ridiculed for it. So, I always kept my mouth shut and thought too hard before I spoke, which I believe just added to my crippling anxiety today. I hate, absolutely hate looking dumb or fucking up. I try to not look or sound dumb so much that I just end up being dumb because I’m panicking over it constantly. I was always looked down on for my interests or things that I thought were funny. To this day I don’t even know who I am, I never did. If I had all the money in the world, knew people and was 21, I’d be down the same road my father and brother are down. Sometimes I am scared to see what is going to happen when I turn 21. I love alcohol, always have. It runs in my family. It numbs me and lets me have confidence, people like me when I’m drunk and I like that. I crave it, I’ll admit. If I go a month without drinking, I crave it, I want it. Once I start drinking I can’t stop until I am physically sick or passed out. Alongside my love for alcohol, I love my Xanax. Another thing that numbs me. I have so much fucking anxiety and it’s just getting worse by the year. I toss and turn every night and wake up with an anxiety attack. I can’t talk to people, I can’t fucking function without something. My head is constantly racing and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to end up like my father and brother, I know I won’t but it is a fear sometimes. 

Other than my own battles, my brother is gaining weight and I’m scared for him. He can’t stop and he never could. Whether it be alcohol, pills or heroin he can’t stop. Coming back down to Florida was depressing. The only reason why he came with us was to avoid the cops. He had stolen things from a woman at the place he work at and his friend threw him under the bus. I don’t know if it’s still heroin, I do know that he takes all his Suboxone that is supposed to last him a week and my father gives him his Lyrica. The whole drive to Florida, he couldn’t stop nodding out or falling asleep. I never thought I would see my brother like that. Never in my life did I think he would end up the way he did. Out of myself and my sister he had the best childhood. He was so smart, people loved him, he had so many friends, he played sports and was good at them, he had his family, my dad hardly hit him. And then all of the sudden he changed. Got to high school and started to drink which isn’t uncommon for a teen but it just spiraled. I always stuck up for him though. I don’t have a relationship with my brother, I never did. But I fucking love him so much and I think part of it is because I looked up to him and I always wanted a relationship with him. I knew the drinking was out of control but I just looked at is as a teen experimenting. He was still smart, he was still going to college. And then prom weekend happened his senior year and he got home, sat in the car with my sister at 7am and said, “ i did everything, i tried everything and i love it”, that’s when coke and pills become a thing. He did everything, loved Percacet the best which turned into heroin.

I live a life where the only two men in my life has taken everything and destroyed it. They’re killing themselves and we can’t do a single thing. My sister snapped me the other day of my father sobbing and he was listing off our names saying how he has killed us and when he got to my name he broke down. My relationship was broken once I found out my father was on H. I remember I would lay in bed thinking of scenarios and I remember always saying to myself, “if he ever got hooked on heroin, I would never talk to him again” and then it happened. At, first I wasn’t surprised, I didn’t even cry. The whole time, we all thought it was pills but it was really heroin. I tried, I tried so hard to continue my relationship with him, but it just never worked. I lost all respect I had for him, I lost memories of my childhood and don’t even remember how he was before the drugs. 

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It’s taken me about two months to write this and a lot of changes have happened.     

We got kicked out of our house again, for not paying rent as usual. But I’m not to blame for that, my mother is not to blame for that and my sister is not to blame for that. Every beginning of the month my brother and father would come up with some lie as to where the money goes then come home tell my mother rent has been paid then by the middle of the month my dad is screaming at her that he never said that rent was paid nor do they have the money to pay rent. He drives us all insane and won’t listen to us when we call him out on his fuck ups. I’ve had enough of this life and I’ve had enough of them. 

I walk this fine line of supporting addiction, and sticking up for those who are addicted and being disgusted by people who just want to shit on these people and preach how they want addicts dead. I hate that shit and disagree with all of it. But then there is this other part of me who just can’t support my brother and father anymore. I can’t be there for the, I never could I guess. You really don’t understand addiction until you live with it I guess. I thought things would change after my dad went to rehab but he came back worse, he relapsed multiply times, supports my brothers addiction by buying him the drugs, still hides and steals money. I hate my father because every time we tried to help, every time we tried to talk to him, we are the ones getting blames, we are the ones getting screamed at and threatened. That is why I can’t be by his time, I don’t respect him and I don’t love him. We have lived this life for so long and yet they aren’t tired of it, so they keep adding to the shit making everything worse. And, I understand you just can’t get off of heroin, but we have tried so many things to help but they keep threatening us, taking my mothers money, my sisters money and my own and spending it on god knows what. we got kicked out of two homes now because of them. 

I love my mother so much, she is the love of my life but I get so frustrated with her and fight constantly. I wish she would just leave them because there is only so much you can do to try to help. My father has shat all over her life, dragged her down and made her into nothing. She thinks she is strong for sticking around and dealing with this all but I actually think she is weak. She is too weak to leave him and this lifestyle. too afraid. I don’t know why she puts up with it. I don’t. 

A couple days ago my sister found my fathers rehab journals, read them and told me what they said. He admitted that he has stolen, robbed, and cheated. cheated. 

I despise cheaters, they disgust me. And, I know damn well he got prostitutes, which is more disgusting. My mother’s reasoning for sticking around is because, she “made a vow on her wedding day”. she cares more about this fucking marriage than my father and I wish she didn’t. I am so angry more so than when I found about the fucking heroin. thats how much i hate fucking cheaters. i hate him, i hate him so fucking much. he is nothing to me just like we are nothing to him. he sold his wedding ring and cheats. Like there was no reasoning to fucking cheat, he isn’t a woman prostituting herself for drugs. he just did it to do it and that’s what hurts. I care too much about my mother and he did this to her and that is so disrespectful and disgusting. if you’re just going to cheat and sell your wedding ring so easily, then they obviously means you don’t love the person you married so why keep this woman in this endless fucked up loop? just divorce and leave and never come back! I can’t even look at him, I am so angry. 

the only reason why i ever want to go home now, is not to see my family anymore, but just to get away from heat of florida, to get away from the homework and kids. i’m planning on moving out this summer to boston with my friend and working. I can’t live home and work because then all my money would go into my fathers pocket. and they drive me insane, it is such a toxic environment and im just trying to leave that, and better myself. i’m done with my father and i just hope the best for my brother.