#and it feels like every time i see my grandparents they're shitting on everything i do

[embv]

GOD my mom frustrates me so much :( help me

[intheholler]

what do you think of all of the people being scared of appalachia? i don't know if this is recent or not, but currently i've been seeing a ton of shit online like "never go to the appalachian mountains, it's so dangerous", and i just don't understand it. my family's lived in appalachia for forever, and none of us have experienced anything paranormal or endangering to us. you're one of my favorite blogs on here and i'd just like to hear your thoughts on it

first off, it means a lot that i'm one of your favorite blogs and im really happy i can contribute something to your experience here :') thanks so much for being here <333

but ok so.

my thoughts on it are many. it's been bothering me a long time and i've been meaning to get it off my chest. this will be long and probably ranty, so it won't hurt my feelings if anyone skims lol

lemme preface this little diatribe by saying the obvious: folklore is an integral part of any culture. the mythos of a place/people is tied directly to their histories and unique experiences and struggles and they are enriching. this is true of appalachia too.

oral folk traditions especially are incredibly historically appalachian.

i mentioned in a post i made yesterday about murder ballads, how the purpose of these was to warn kids away from doing dumb shit and getting lost in the hollers--falling down cliffs n mineshafts and shit at night. gettin got by wildlife.

it spooked us safe. they served a purpose, and once you got old enough to realize they're as real as the tooth fairy, they just become enjoyable and nostalgic. because they're you're culture.

probably every mountain kid has stories about haints n boogers that were told to them by their grandparents, and they grow up to tell them to their own kids, and so on. some of it stuck with me because i grew up with the folklore.

by that i mean, i'm a whole 31 year old woman and i still avoid looking out a dark window at night cause it gives me the shivers. i still get spooked when i hear a big cat yowling in the woods. but the difference is i know there's not really haints out there crying--it's just a product of my childhood. ghost stories are fun.

the problem comes in when someone outside the culture gets their hands on appalachian oral folk traditions. then, it becomes a familiar problem: outsiders cherry picking appalachia and harming us with the mess they make rifling through it all.

it's all about the surface level and the visuals. they all love a good aesthetic blog, run by some local from out west or some shit who's never stepped foot here.

but as soon as the spooky photo filters come off and the real life marginalized person is left standing there just out of frame, we go back to being disgusting examples of what not to be. decrepit churches n buildings are aesthetic and quirky until they stop being on a pinterest board, and then they just become damning images of an impoverished region who deserves to be laughed at.

now, not to holler 'splain you--this is more for anyone not from here who might read this: it's been a systemic issue for decades; there were literal government campaigns to demonize us to the rest of the nation so they could garner support to cut into our mountains and exploit our labor and resources.

well, they were fuckin successful, and we have been falsely made out to be this homogenous nightmare of a place--"welfare exploiting" maga country who deserves everything we get, and nothing we don't.

by going so far as to take appalachian folklore that we tell each other and picking out the "aesthetic" stuff--the haints and general paranormal--they are pruning what they like from our culture--the safe things, like ghost stories--for their own aesthetic use.

but not only that, they are using it to demonize us… yet again.

'appalachia is scary. it's full of things that will kill you. don't look out the window at night cause a booger will get you.' only they don't call them boogers cause they ain't even from here. ask them what a haint is and they'll ask if u mispelled 'haunt.'

it gets even worse when you consider that so much of it has roots in native american culture, and how that continues to be exploited and misrepresented.

i'm not even innocent of that. a while back i had to check myself because i made a comment on here about ~spooky appalachia~ ignorant to the fact that what i was commenting on was actually a deeply important cultural and spiritual element to local indigenous tribes. my comments were harmful by my failure to educate myself and know better, thereby saying things carelessly.

my point being--i'm from the area. i should have known better.

when outsiders start saying the kind of shit they say about what they think they hear in the woods without even knowing where such an idea comes from, they're disrespecting a displaced, abused and exploited people, harming real cultures just for clicks without even knowing. that's on top of the damage they're doing to greater appalachia.

it's fuckin gross.

i think my favorite one i ever seen was this middle aged white lady going through her pristine mcmansion somewhere in suburbia, pulling the million curtains and locking the million doors, going "nighttime routine in appalachia!! 🤪����"

i could be wrong about this particular person--i didn't check their other tiktoks because im sick of them accounts and tired of giving them the benefit of the doubt--but it immediately came off as a transplant because:

1) mcmansion, 2) i dont know nobody here that locks their shit down like that (not locking up could even be argued as a part of my local culture, a reflection of our deep sense of community and trust in our neighbors).

and then the comments was all like "i don't know how you guys live there" and it actually broke my heart and pissed me off because even if--especially if--you're one of us, why the fuck are you harming us for likes? why are you turning people against us in a brand new way?

and to the transplants that do this--why?

you're not even from here, you moved here to this place you hate and made it worse just so your front porch would have a nice view, and are now benefiting socially from perpetuating bullshit about us?

you buy up all the land, land we often had no choice but to sell in the first place to survive instead of passing it on to our families, land we originally took from the indigenous peoples your content comes from.

you overdevelop it and turn it unrecognizable to make it more like the comfortable cities you come from. you gut a mountain town of its local businesses and cultures, you price people out of their homes...

...and then once you settle in all cozy like, you go tell everyone else how scary it is? how you can't trust the hills? like it's a cool paranormal bravery badge to wear? fuck off entirely.

so idk, in short my personal thoughts are: i personally enjoy a little myth as a treat, because the folklore is a part of the gothic, a part of our culture and a part of my childhood. i don't (intentionally) wield it as a weapon or use it as a pedestal to get the weird brand of attention that people like them are after.

and those who do this can get got by them haints for all i care.

[ryp3004]

OC ask game by @/yvesdot

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite? Ryanne has 1 (one) stuffed animal named Moo Cow

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child? Ryanne can NOT take care of plants. That girl has the brownest thumb ever seen. She doesn't do good with things that don't tell her what they need. She definitely likes kids, but she likes kids once they start talking. Baby's freak her out because crying could mean any number of things.

Ask them to describe their love interest. Wes is, in her words, "the sweetest, handsomest, strongest, consideratest, charmingest man she has ever met"

Do they look good in red? I want to say yes, but I think the shade of her hair throws off warm colors a lot so she sticks to cool tones.

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about? Ryanne will give a speech about anything! She usually falls back on the "acceptance is great" and "love everyone" because that's usually all it takes to get her classmates to be friends again

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is? She hangs on every word her parents say. They are two incredibly successful hollywood elites, she figures they know what they're talking about. She does not take advice from people like Asher, Max, or even Chase. People that think they know better than her before they even listen to her.

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words. My three are kind, hardworking, and ambitious. Hers would be perfect, sweet, and dependable

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them? On the inside I think she gets frustrated quite easily with things she thinks she should get right away but on the outside she's a shake it off and keep working at it kinda gal

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)? YES everything is something she wants to love and care for. When her grandparents threw away her childhood toys it was like someone died.

What age do they most want to be right now? She's happy at 17

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save? Spend/donate the majority. She's already rich, she doesn't really see the need to keep it. Plus, if everyone knows she donated so much money she will get Good Girl Points™.

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)? I think that Ryanne loves love, but she doesn't like reading/watching it. The lack of communication in a lot of fictional couples frustrates her.

Name one thing their parents taught them. Rebecca taught her how to pick locks as a kid. Wes finds this out before they start dating and it's an immediate "holy shit"

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any? Because of her upbringing, every time she's not helping/working/sacrificing-for-others she feels guilty, though she's working on it. Her biggest guilty pleasure is definitely celebrity drama, especially when her parents can give her the inside scoop

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work? Any time she's by herself, sitting still.

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear? What she wears now! She loves flowy dresses! Though, I do think she has a special interest in rococo fashion and if she could she'd have a full rococo outfit just to have

Do they like children? She does! Though like i said before, she likes them from like 3 onward

Kissing: tongue or no tongue? This is a high schooler 🤨

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews? YES she needs to be perfect and get the perfect outcome!

What do they like that nobody else does? Bugs! She thinks spiders are cute (weirdo)

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw? Disrespect of her friends/family. Once she loves someone they are part of her family and she will not accept any show of disrespect of her family. The exception is Max, but she often gets very short and abrupt with him, especially when he gets to be too much.

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to? She doesn't use them often, they're not her favorite thing, but she doesn't mind being called them. Wes calls her Babe and Sweetheart a lot, and her Bio-dad calls her pumpkin

Stability or novelty? Stability

Honesty or charity? Charity

Safety or possibility? Safety

Talent or effort? Talent

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)? Forgiveness

Would they date a fixer-upper? Yes

What recurring dreams do they have? She often has dreams where she's lost in a maze

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven? Get angry. Gnashing teeth and lashing out angry

[haru-sagara]

send🥛for a drink headcanon

send 💣 for a stress headcanon

send 🍬 for a family headcanon

🥛Drink

I don't think Haru drinks nearly as much as it seems like he does tbh. I like to believe that he does it often enough to build rapport but not often enough for it to be considered an honest to god problem, and the only reason Romeo always complains about Haru being there too often is because they both just miraculously get free time at the same time every time so Romeo is like. ARE YOU ALWAYS HERE? And Haru is like. ARE YOU ALWAYS HERE? and then they drink. best friends forever. worsties!

💣Stress

The more stressed out Haru is the more work he gives himself because of his stress. Not even in the 'he messes up and causes trouble' way, but rather in the like. He's stressed and thinking about how he's stressed. Something that stresses him out is the park failing, so he thinks about things that stress him out in the park. He thinks that if the bugs die then everything goes to shit, so he gets stressed over their conditions, and decides he needs to do something to make sure they're all chilling, so he goes and does that, but then it stresses him out thinking that the crops will be disturbed if there's too many insects, so he goes to plant more, but then gets stressed that the weather would be terrible, so he goes to fix that, and then stresses that, you get the point. Just. Forever. On and on until someone stops him HAHA

��� Family

I feel like. I feel like. This is probably my weirdest headcanon I both can't recall if its been disproven already or if it even makes any sense (it doesn't) but I for some reason am captivated by the idea that Haru is closest with his aunt and uncle. Like. I feel like his parents are out of the picture for one reason or another so he was raised by like. A grandparent or an uncle but he just really gives off 'Child of an uncle' vibes. Does this make sense. Can you see my vision.

[bi-turtle-enthusiast]

Hello.... Can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from MDZS? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Thanks if you want to answer....

yeah sure!

Characters:

5. Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi I love their dynamic SO much. They're best friends who have clearly known each other for such a long time, and they're both really interesting characters in their own right! Lan Sizhui is so interesting, what with his Lan upbringing and his Wen heritage, and the fact that he's connecting to both by the end of the book. Lan Jingyi is Lan Sizhui's ride-or-die, protecting his best friend at every opportunity while having the best lines in the entire book, and he makes every scene he's in 100x better.

4. Wen Qing Medical malplractice queen!! But in all seriousness, there's something so viscerally powerful about the fact that she's willing to go against nature itself for her baby brother. She'd both die and kill for Wen Ning, and later for Wei Wuxian. I feel like her type of character (murderous older sister) is kind of rare and I really, really like her. I feel like The Untamed really fleshed out her character and I really appreciated her after I watched it. She's equally capable of nurturing and destroying—a force of nature herself.

3. Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian Fun fact: I hated Lan Wangji when I first read MDZS, and to be honest I'm still so-so on novel Lan Wangji. However, he was easily one of my favorite characters in The Untamed, and watching it made me see him in a whole different light. He doesn't communicate through his words, but through his actions. I think Wang Yibo was perfect casting because he NAILED Lan Wangji's micro-expressions and body language and really brought the character to life. Reading Lan Wangji as autistic also made me understand him a lot more. As for Wei Wuxian, I initially read him as a silly guy and... was right. Despite everything, he stays silly. I do find him a little insufferable pre-death, but I think that was intentional. He probably would have been higher on the list, but while I think he's a really compelling character (and ADHD personified, just like me fr), I'm also very frustrated by him and I don't like how he treats people sometimes. Still, I adore the way he looks after Jin Ling, refuses to let anyone blame Jiang Cheng for anything that happened to him, and takes care of Lan Wangji (towards the end, anyway).

2. Jin Ling Ok he probably would have been at the very top of this list but unfortunately jiang cheng brainrot is real. But CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIM. Over the course of the story, he finds out that his disgraced uncle who insulted him for not having a mom was actually Wei Wuxian reincarnated, then had to contend with the fact that Wei Wuxian was both the reason his parents and grandparents died AND the guy who protected him at every opportunity. Not to mention, he learned that Jin Guangyao, his beloved uncle who gifted him his beloved dog, had orchestrated his parents' death and was ready to kill him too. And what does he do at the end of the novel? He cries. He doesn't seek revenge, he doesn't get angry, he just cries, and he lets go. He chooses not to pursue revenge, because he's seen how the quest for revenge has destroyed everyone around him in one way or another. He's a little shit (because he's an edgy 15 year old) but he's a really intelligent and kind person who loves Jiang Cheng more than anything.

1. Jiang Cheng Some of y'all are going to disagree with me but it must be said. Jiang Cheng is the best MDZS character. Jiang Yanli's love and care taught him how to be loving and caring too. He loved Wei Wuxian, he loved Jin Ling, and he loved his sect. Jiang Cheng never stopped loving Wei Wuxian, even after everything that happened. He hated Wei Wuxian too—that's undeniable—but he also loved him. He kept his belongings intact, he never stopped believing he would come back, he literally gave up his golden core to protect Wei Wuxian. And Jin Ling! He loves Jin Ling so much! Despite having AWFUL parents himself, he was determined not to be that way towards Jin Ling. He did his best to break the generational trauma of his family because he wanted Jin Ling to have it better than he did. When Jin Ling becomes sect leader, he makes sure that he knows that if he EVER needs ANYTHING, he'll provide it to the best of his ability. I could go on for hours about this man. Best MDZS character. He's so full of resentment and hatred and vengeance, but in the end, the thing that always wins out over everything else is his unshakeable love.

Honorable mention: I loved MianMian in the Untamed and wish she got more time to shine in the novel

Favorite moments: 5. Literally anytime Lan Jingyi is in a scene. Every time he opens his mouth it's my favorite scene. He keeps Wei Wuxian humble in a way that only a teenager can. 4. The WangXian scene where Wei Wuxian hides porn in Lan Wangji's book. It starts off so genuinely nice—you can tell Lan Wangji isn't really serious anymore when he tells Wei Wuxian to stfu, and you get the feeling that Wei Wuxian is probably the closest thing Lan Wangji has to a friend. Wei Wuxian draws Lan Wangji a little portrait, and it's genuinely a sweet gesture. Lan Wangji thinks so too—he hasn't ever gotten something like this, and the fact that Wei Wuxian took the time to learn his appearance and commit it to paper makes him feel some type of way. And then, it turns out that everything was just a ruse so Wei Wuxian could prank Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is,, understandably enraged. It feels cruel that Wei Wuxian would be so insincere just to do that. I kind of hated Wei Wuxian in this scene, but it's one of my favorites because it kind of shows the nature of their initial relationship—half-sincere, but never truly sincere. 3. Xuanwu cave scene. It's so funny and so painful and so sweet. We really see everyone's characters coming out—Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji being selfless protective, Jiang Cheng being capable and responsible, Jin Zixuan being brave and righteous, MianMian being the GOAT, Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao deserving death, etc. 2. The umbrella scene in the Untamed. It was just so powerful. Lan Wangji putting down his umbrella, which represents the rules and morality of his sect, and just letting the rain mess up his perfect appearance. He doesn't know what's right and wrong anymore, because he loves Wei Wuxian, but everyone is telling him that's wrong. Wei Wuxian himself doesn't know what's right and wrong. Lan Wangji has been thinking in terms of black and white all this time, and for the first time, he finds himself in a gray area. It was just so powerful!! 1. The conversation between Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng after the temple scene at the end. It was just so beautiful. Go read/watch it.

[tri-punisher]

getting a cheap ass toaster has been extremely beneficial to me in dealing with my "i literally Do Not Eat unless i feel hungry enough at which point it can no longer be ignored" problem that is greatly exacerbated by adhd making it hard for me to prepare proper meals + time blindness getting in the way of everything all the time. i can just make myself peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches for breakfast OR dinner, they're very easy to make, they taste good, and they're filling.

i've also been brave and bought myself vegetables like tomatoes and cucumber specifically because i know i enjoy those on salad sandwiches, and i actually motivate myself to use them bc i don't want to waste them by having them sit in my fridge for weeks, wasting food really fucking annoys me and i don't want to keep beating myself up over it every time it happens. i bought wholegrain mustard to add to it too, which is something i haven't tried before, it's really nice.

every since i've become responsible for my own food (that is, since i moved onto my dad's property and got a job) it's been pretty bad for me. when i was living with my grandparents it was way easier to eat regularly because my grandparents have breakfast lunch and dinner, and have morning and afternoon tea in between. so i was assured to be eating something decent at least twice a day cus they did it so routinely. but now, some days, i have breakfast at dinner. sometimes i only eat snack food throughout the whole day. sometimes breakfast is just a mug of coffee until i get hungry enough i'm forced to find something substantial. it's even worse on days i don't work, bc when i work, generally for lunch i'll be buying myself something good, like a salad wrap or egg and lettuce sandwiches or meat pies on top of a juice drink or smoothie.

i think i'm incrementally gaining weight because of this too. i've noticed over the past year, especially since the colder months have hit, clothes that fit me last year don't fit me as well this year. and it's like. Huh. i wonder what could have caused that. i wonder when the only thing that's really changed is my eating habits are getting worse cus i have to rely solely on myself to get it done. does my body think it's fucking starving. is this why i feel so angry and irritable literally all the time and blow up at random shit i see online. What a mystery

[cumbunnywitch]

Hey Friendos. I'm gonna impart a little bit of knowledge on everyone about some scams that go around every few months, and that I've seen more than once on Tumblr so far.

Basic Premise: Someone messages you, sends you an ask, or otherwise shows up on your radar with a story. Often it's a believable story, like their cat is in need of surgery or they need to pay rent because they got kicked out or some kind of sob story and they're requesting you boost them or contribute if you can. A lot of the the time these things are scams. Like most of the time.

How to Tell if it's a scam: This can be easy. Look at their profile, look at when they followed you and sent an ask, and how many things they've reblogged, and check if they've made any posts on their own.

Here's some quick ones I see:

Everything they've done is all at the same time or from the same day. For example, every RB is from 8h ago. Maybe if the've done it before there's another day with like 50 posts all in a row. No one sets up their queue like that.

The follow and within a minute you have an ask/dm from them and they've never liked/rb'd from you.

They're using PayPal. PayPal is one of the most widely used money-sending tool for scammers as it's easy to get hold of someone else's account and perform further scams using it without leaving a trail.

Their cry for help is a single pinned post with very few reblogs and no verification.

They don't have any posts of their own, especially text posts.

Scammers don't like to use things like CashApp or GoFundMe because it's a lot easier to track scams, and payouts usually require ID verification. If someone is being legit, they'll probably have multiple avenues of receiving money. I'd use cashapp, set up a GFM, post about it constantly, and have my mutuals RB the shit out of my post by asking them directly for help.

Most of these are set up by bots in droves. They're a little more sophisticated, and are using the lessons learned from all those blank bot accounts you see come up as new followers. They've also been training you; "those random accounts are clearly bots and I'm talking to you like a normal person! I'm totally real and you can trust that because I'm using real words!" That sob story is meant to make you drop your guard. To make you consider that no one would actually try to scam people out of money with such a sad story.

Well there are people that shitty. There are scammers all over that have been manipulating your grandparents out of their retirement savings because they think you need to get bailed out of jail. Before that there were Nigerian Princes trying to give people money if only they could pay for the wire transfer.

Wire forwarding. Fake checks. Western Union scams. All of these things prey on our gullibility. Our sense of honor or curiosity or that someone made us feel special or wants to make us rich! Or our empathy and sympathetic nature, our desire to be helpful and get someone out of a bad situation.

I'm not saying you should think all of these requests are scams. I'm asking you to employ critical thinking, to look for warning signs and make a judgment call.

And if you're ever unsure, hit me up. I am more than happy to take a deep look at these things and give you my best opinion, free of cynicism. I've gotten hit by 4 of these in the last month, so I've got a decent eye on what to see.

[hustlemeanokay]

Over the years, I've watched the like, relationship culture, if you could call it that, here on tumblr shift slowly and yet... dangerously. Because, somehow - somewhere, someone got it in their head that all romantic relationships are like supposed to just be smooth sailing without a single issue and they just... aren't. Because life. And there's two individuals involved. Two different people. With two brains and two different opinions and two different emotional responses to things. And like... not everything is 'abuse', also. A lot is - yes. But not god damned everything. Your partner doesn't immediately give into your demands? That's not abuse. Your partner actually raises their voice at you because you're being a raging cunt? Also not abuse. It's like that some person who thought relationships were supposed to just spawn, fully formed with the ease of 20 years already under their belt also popped up and said that there are zero consequences for your actions in those relationships. And like, there are. There very much are. Literally every single thing that you think you have a right to in a relationship... so do they. Your feelings are valid. Yes. So are there's, though. No, they shouldn't yell at you. And you shouldn't fucking yell at them either.

Relationships, marriages, partnerships, whatever you want to call them - are hard because you have to think about someone else now. They're supposed to be difficult. Not impossible. Love isn't everything but it damn sure helps because at the end of a long day where nothing goes right and you two are at your wits end, that love helps soothe the hurts of the day. That's not saying that love should sustain it. Just that it helps. But don't lean on it like it's the end all because it's not - there's a lot more to relationships. So, don't get it in your heads either that if you love the person it should just be... easy. Because again... two separate people and life and shit. And sometimes, you get cranky and bitchy and whiny and shit just sucks. And so maybe you saw your grandparents who've been married since God was a fucking boy and you saw them just make it look so easy... you have to remember that they've done their time.

Also, also - another kind of 'just so ya know'. No one really knows if it's time to call it quits on a relationship (I mean, unless it's obvious like... actual abuse or something). Are you actually done with them or do you just need to eat a bunch of tacos and binge watch the Witcher? Who knows! Life is insane. So cut you and them some slack. After 20 years (wow... seriously, it doesn't feel like it's been that long) with my husband - that's the number one piece of unsolicited advice I can give. Cut yourself some slack. A lot of the shit you stress over as a younger person, frankly? Doesn't really fucking matter. Not really. And once you realize that? And embrace it? You'll be much happier. A lot more relaxed. Not totally because ya know, the world. But in your little bubble? It'll help.

And... that concludes my impromptu Ted talk... thanks uh... thanks for coming... and... we'll see ya next week...

I think that in real life…. Relationships r like . Your partner WILL ‘trauma dump’ on you. You will have to perform ‘emotional labor’ for your partner. Your partner will make mistakes. You will also do all of these things. The very nature of love is irrational and problematic and difficult …. To expect a relationship to be free of these things is strange to me…. The point is that your relationship to that person is ultimately worth it, and worth growing with them, helping each other, seeing the worst parts of another person and being able to love them anyway

[benispunk]

I will not miss anything

Growing up I use to think my "normal" was everyone's "normal". I think we kind of all go through that. And then you see the signs and realize that maybe your "normal" is really just yours.

I'm the only female grandchild in my family. This family, I learned not so long ago, used to be an only boys family, if you know what I mean. I heard that my great-grandmother once said "i don't know what I would have done if I had had a daughter". She had four sons. One of them of course being my grandpa.

My grandpa had two children, my dad and my aunt. My aunt was the older child and my dad was the heir. He was the one who would keep the last name, the legacy, till the end of his life. And that, my friends, is only one out of so many problems in my family. In case you're wondering, no, we are not the heir of a crown, my grandpa isn't a king. Nor are we aristocrats or possessor of a huge fortune. So, really, what's the point of being so formal about it, right ?

I am the eldest daughter. I have one little brother. Mu aunt had two sons. Guess who will keep the last name at the end of the day?

You are right! Not me, nor my cousins. My brother is the official heir of "everything". Whatever everything is. And do not worry, I am not jealous at all, I've always found that quite ridiculous.

Anyway back to the topic. My "normal" is that since I was 8, i have been a responsible little woman. Unlike my brother, i was raised like an adult and not like a child. My brother was raised like a child and treated like a child. I knew how to do everything from a very young age because "I'm such a smart and responsible girl". And that's just how I was. And to me, it never was a problem.

My "normal" is going to my grandparents house during the holidays while my parents are working and not actually spending time with my grandparents. It was just me and my brother in my grandparents' house. Or it could also be my other grandma coming over to our house to take care of us while our parents are away, but in the end I was the one keeping an eye on my young brother and my grandma who preferred checking everything in my mom's (her daughter) stuff and using her makeup and products.

My "normal" is accepting and shutting my mouth when my grandpa interrupts me when I'm in the middle of a conversation. It's my grandmother telling me that 'It's such a waste of your capacities to do that" when I tell her I want to be a filmmaker, when I've been accepted in the most prestigious school in my country - that I refused to go to because it was too expensive.

My "normal" is also accepting that I can't control the way my grandparents are, even when they are the most egoistical, ego-centrical, hyper-victimization, mean, liars, mythomaniacs, manipulative people I know.

My "normal" is valuing family over everything else, even when it kills me.

Those examples are a few out of thousands of examples.

And I understand it's not everyone's "normal".

But life goes on even if pigeon's shit falls onto your shoulder every once in a while.

And after talking with my therapist about all of that...I though for an instant.

Will I miss them when they're not here anymore ?

I'm pretty sure I will. I will undoubtably cry and sob for days, weeks, maybe months. But then it will stop.

Because I will not miss my grandparents. I will not miss them with that title.

I never missed my grandparents.

I used to watch my friends with their grandparents and it was nothing like what I had back home. Nothing at all.

I never hugged my grandparents, I actually have a physical affection problem and I don't like most of physical contact because of never receiving any.

I don't have big memories or actual fun memories with them either. Except for things I did with my brother at their house but with my brother only.

So, I never missed that feeling. I never desired it either. I don't actually know what it's like to have grandparents because of how "not normal" my "normal" used to be, and still is.

So I will not miss my "grandparents" because there's no such thing as that in my heart. I will miss the people. But then I will close the book.

And life goes on.

[nyctx]

#10

I feel sick, but that's given me time to think about random shit. It felt like dissociation, but I can honestly never tell. Maybe I just zone out for a bit, I stop talking for a bit and then everything pushes through me like a wave. Some of it is the realization of something, and some of it just is a specific memory that comes out of nowhere. It's one or the other, but it lingers in my mind for a few days or so. Sometimes I appreciate it, I can remember stuff randomly. But most of the time I don't, most of it isn't that pleasant and it leaves me thinking: 'How the fuck do I let myself get that bad? What the hell is wrong with me?'

I'll question my entire being, question why I had to turn out this way. I can give an example, maybe a few.

I can start off with the most light-hearted...sorta. Since we've moved, I've been sleeping on a singular mattress. No bed frame, no other mattress, just a single twin-sized mattress. Every time I notice that, I think of The Front Bottoms song, that song has implemented some sort of alteration in my brain. Maybe I was cursed to sleep on a twin-size mattress, maybe I'm repaying some sort of karma for something I did.

Another thing was the fact I may never see my grandpa again. On my mom's side, we don't see my grandparents or my tio that much anymore. She's cut contact, but that comes at a price. She told me that I can keep contact, but some part of me thinks it's disrespectful (I almost forgot how to spell that). I would think it was because my mom cut them off for a reason, if there's a reason then that means that I should probably respect it. But, the fact I might never see my grandpa again makes me dread and upset. I'm close to him and I miss him so much. It's like he's dead, but he's not. He's still with us and it makes me upset because knowing that he doesn't have long left is too much. His smile flashes in my mind and it makes me tear up. I realized it in a stupid way as well. I had been watching Sons of Anarchy and one of the characters reminded me of him that it brought me to tears and left me crying for 20 minutes. I've had so many long and deep talks with my grandpa that it just hurts. It hurts too much, I miss him so much I can't even begin to realize it. It bothers me so much, it's like a random jumpscare.

I'm not pushing on that subject anymore.

Back in middle school, I had the biggest urge to change something about myself all the time. Whether it be in hair, clothing, or personality, I just felt so out of place and out of control with myself. Any minor inconvenience leads me to want to chop my hair off all the time. The longest it got was to the top of my shoulders before I hacked it off with kitchen scissors. The only time I didn't regret it was when I gave myself bangs. But, I was happy in some way. I found happiness in my best friend, in writing, in the middle of the storm. I was suicidal, yes, but I made myself happy- even if circumstances weren't the best at home. Everything fell apart in a snap and at the end of the day, I had no one to turn to at all. All of my thoughts and memories are left in a journal that my best friend gave me. I stopped writing in it, yes, but I was too afraid to run out of pages. I never felt so afraid to talk to someone as I did then. I spent most of my nights alone, desperate to at least talk to my best friend before he fell asleep. I just..loved hearing him talk in a time of desperation. The only thing that really kept me company was the sound of the air conditioning running and the smell of weed. I spent most of my nights cradling myself to sleep and hugging a red couch pillow. It was small, but it did the job. for the longest time, the only pillow I had was a Ninja Turtle Pillow and I loved that thing dearly. It was my favorite thing. I kept the Post-it notes my best friend gave me hung on my wall, but I couldn't get those back after we moved out of the house. They're gone...I want them back. I would look at them, and I would think to myself; 'I have one thing to live for, one thing keeping me sane in that godforsaken school.' I have two plushies that keep those memories alive too, and I hold them close. I was bullied and messed with in school, and for him to look past that and still be there, I appreciated the shit out of it.

I love him, I'm not sure what kind of love it is, but it's genuine. It's something I've never felt before.

In the time that happened, it was all in a span of one school year. Not even a full year. When it was done and the dust had settled, everything felt worse, nothing felt...real. Like I had just been woken up from a nightmare or been splashed with cold water. That part of my life was over and it terrified me. I no longer had to explain to my teachers why I was so tired from the nights my parents would fight. I no longer sat in an empty house alone, watching Invader Zim or Ninja Turtles. I no longer had to worry about someone coming in to check on me at random times of the night. I no longer needed to have music blasting in the showers to kill the silence. Everything I had scheduled and set in my mind was deemed useless. Comforts of mine were just memories. I was..out. After 8 whole years, that was it. I lost a lot, my sister, my independence, my ability to be vulnerable. Being in a house full of people is something I feel like I've lost the ability to tolerate. I isolate myself in my room as a goddamn habit because I was so used to being alone. I still feel trapped in that time and place. Some part of me is still waiting for my mom to say she wants to go back. Some part of me is waiting for her to say that she's given in a gave it another chance. It was a loop I want out of because I never want it to happen again. Why am I stuck in a place that brings me more harm than good? Why am I still stuck in the past? I want to let go, it's a leech that feeds off my blood and it's only getting larger and larger.

Another realization I had wasn't even the outcome of me zoning out or dissociating or whatever happens when my mind goes to another place. It wasn't even me who made me realize it.

My mom had said the fact that my step siblings have had her around longer than me and my brother have in the span of a few months rather than the years I've been alive. When it first registered in my mind, I was in denial about it. I know my mom always had to work, but I thought that didn't count because she was still there, she didn't leave or give our rights away to someone else. I've always had my mom, just not in the way I thought. When it finally hit me, it sucked. Realizing how much she had to miss out on or how many times she couldn't make it to events or certain things, I had most of those memories lost, but looking back at it, it kinda makes me feel sad. The absence of her just sucks in general. She wasn't gone..but in a way, it felt like it. I've never really had a solid father figure in my life. One of the ones that was still in my life doesn't really give a shit. People can say he tries or that he wants to, but I know he doesn't. He doesn't care and won't attempt to care. I've been living off of bread crumbs to make him even want to care. It's only now that he's barely trying, but in the end, he's a lost cause. He lost that ability to make me give a shit. It makes me sad because he's been the one I called 'dad' first, but now it just feels like an empty shell. He took me out to dinner by myself a few times, but one of them was to remind me that he was the first person I'd ever called Dad. Only because I was meeting my biological dad. He only tried because he knew that, after that whole thing, he kept asking about it. Even when I met my biological dad, it didn't take him too long before he realize he no longer wanted to reach out because of his wife. I never gave him the chance again.

I had been a bastard child for 11 years. I'm fucking unplanned with a huge case of daddy issues.

One day, I just want to stop thinking, kill off my brain, and feel it slip out of my mind. I have so much on my mind all the time and I hate it sometimes. Most of the time, I wonder if there'll be a time when these thoughts go away. The only time it really does is when I pull an all-nighter and then pass out after because my mind is turning off and my body is recharging. It's also the same thing when I fall asleep after taking medicine for my period cramps. Inevitably, after I take a pill for it, I pass out and nap. My brain is so quiet during it too. Waking up after is like heaven, the sheets are always soft, my mind feels like it's floating in the best way, and in general, I don't feel so uptight. The reason this happens is because my body and mind are so strained and tired after cramping up my body. If I could be drowsy and sedated when I don't have to do anything, it would be nice.

Writing is like de-compressing and cutting pieces of my thoughts, I used to speak my mind by myself and put them in my notes by using text-to-speech. I usually did it when I was tipsy because it helps me speak more fluently and helps me say what I want to say better. Drunk words are sober thoughts type of things. When I would be sober and reread some of them, I would have to take half an hour to read everything. I would put them in different notes depending on the topic. Writing is my biggest coping mechanism. I might capitalize on it in the future. My biggest goal in life is to publish a novel of some sort. I don't really hope for that dream, I want to let it come to me naturally, if fate has that in store for me, then so be it. I feel like emphasizing dreams gives them less of a chance to happen. This is why I haven't told anyone about this blog, it's a safe space I go to whenever I need to speak my mind. If someone stumbles upon this blog, I hope I'm gone by that time or I'm ready for someone close to read my thoughts.

I just wish this blog falls under the right eyes, some things can be concerning, but if I speak them, I am less likely to act upon them, to get them out of my system. Writing is just throwing up my thoughts; (I don't have a good closer for this sentence)

-Dxll Face

[waywardxwords]

@zepskies!! Oh, how I've missed reading your writing. We're (finally) home and settled, so get ready for the notifications, HA!

Ugh, this chapter pulled at the heartstrings. It was so relatable.

I love how the reader felt the love from her grandparents' friends and family, but especially how she felt the support from Dean's friends. I think that speaks volumes about how much Dean cares for her with how his friends have rallied around her. I was also glad to see that Andréa attended (though I am still side-eyeing her hard and I still think the reader had every right to say and do what she did).

You had the undeniable conviction that if you let go of the podium, you would fall into a heap. You’d make an embarrassing scene at your grandpa’s funeral—something George definitely would’ve gotten a kick out of, if he was here. My granddaughter, ladies and gentlemen. She can talk real well, but apparently she can’t walk at the same time.

I felt that in my bones. I had a similar experience when my grandfather passed away a few years ago, so it hit home for me. The way you conveyed those feelings felt so raw and real.

“Oh, I thought you would’ve taken that out already,” she said. As if you didn’t have a million other things to remember to do today.

GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES WITH HER, I swear I just wanna talk. Ugh, Andréa...

Andréa’s lips pursed. “In the linen closet? The one in the hall?” “No, the one in the attic,” you snipped dryly.

LMAO - dead. That was *chef's kiss*. I guess I can kind of see the reader being a bit bitchy, BUT I think it was warranted. Not to mention, her grandfather just passed away.

I thought it was an interesting perspective to see Dean feel like the reader didn't share about her fight with Andréa as something he could be "trusted" with, but I understood it once he walked through his thoughts on it. I am really bad about just keeping things to myself, so I totally resonated with the reader on not feeling like she needed to share with him. But I could see how he could feel a certain way, especially since Benny knew all about it from Andréa's perspective. (All those words to say: I love how you showed us both sides - you're a pro at that, and it's super engaging!)

In hindsight, he’d already known. The day of the car accident, when you’d called him in tears and asked for his help, he realized just how much he’d do for you. The lengths he would go to make sure you were okay. That you were safe, and his.

Boo-hooing - the "I love you's" and those words you wrote. UGH. I LOVE IT SO MUCH!

Oooh to everything happening with Nick Savage and his father. That was an interesting development and I liked seeing their dynamic. Part of me has hope that if his father's involved, maybe the reader is safe? Because Daniel doesn't want to draw attention? But at the same time, Nick is unhinged and who tf knows (well, besides you LOL). UGH! The suspense!!! AND AZAZEL IS BACK IN TOWN?! Oof. I am itching to read more!

Alright, alright. I'll admit. As much as I have bitched about Andréa, she was actually really sweet for the reader's first day back in the office. I really loved how she took charge and basically said to screw it, and that she should take the PTO. As frustrating as she has been, it shows their true friendship and that when shit gets real, they're there for one another.

“My family’s gone, Dean,” you said wearily, fighting the tears stinging in your eyes. But Dean squeezed your hand. “No,” he said. “They’re right here. In these hands.”

Dean's words gave me goosebumps - ugh, I love that man. I love that he's there for her in every way possible.

Dean shot his brother a wink over his shoulder. “When the room’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.” Sam scoffed. “As if I’d give myself that kind of family trauma.” “Leftovers are in the fridge, Sam!” you called, even though you were halfway down the hall with Dean on your heels.

And this dialogue cracked me up. This is definitely something I could envision all three of them saying, lol.

WELL DONE, friend! I can't wait to go and read the next installment (and anything else of yours I have missed over the last two weeks!).

Smoke Eater - Part 12

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Thank you everyone for your kind words on Part 11! 🥰 It really meant so much to me.

🔥Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ just to be safe on this one. Angst, hurt/comfort, minor violence and tension, fluff with a tinge of spice.~

Part 12: “All in the Family”

You didn’t realize until the funeral just how well loved your grandfather had been.

So many of his friends, along with your grandmother’s, came up to you personally to express their condolences even before the church service began. Some were more heartfelt and broken up than that of your extended family members, many of whom hardly checked on him when he was alive, even before his cancer returned.

You had no mascara left by the time the service started. Yet it wasn’t until you had to get up and speak that you noticed something else when you stared out into the crowd.

Almost all of Dean’s friends (and now yours) had come to support you. Meg and Cas, Sam and Eileen, Benny and Andréa, Jo and Ellen…they all sat in the row behind him, even though very few of them had even met your grandfather in person.

“George was born in Lebanon, Kansas in the early ‘40s,” you began. “At the time, its population was about 600. Now, it’s less than 200…and that’s why he left, he told me. I didn’t want to be the last relic left standin’ with the tumbleweeds.”

That bit earned you some laughs. You paused, smiling slightly. With a shaking breath, you managed to continue.

Though it was hard for you to even look at Andréa. It was with a mixture of lingering resentment, tempered only by your guilt at the last words you’d levied at your best friend. A large part of you still felt justified, even today, to hold your grudge. Maybe you were wrong for it, but that was just how you felt.

And right now, you were shaking. You barely managed to get through the speech you wrote down on a notepad. After you were done, you couldn’t force yourself to pry your fingers off the podium. You glanced over at the closed casket behind you, to your right.

The pastor was standing to your left, waiting on you to go back to your seat so he could resume the service. You could sense him watching you, and distantly you heard him call your name. You couldn’t respond. Your voice was stuck in your throat.

Both anxious and panicked, you looked up at the sea of people watching you. Your gaze darted from face to face, until you landed on Dean. He was staring up at you in thinly veiled concern.

You okay? he mouthed.

You shook your head subtly. You had the undeniable conviction that if you let go of the podium, you would fall into a heap. You’d make an embarrassing scene at your grandpa’s funeral—something George definitely would’ve gotten a kick out of, if he was here.

My granddaughter, ladies and gentlemen. She can talk real well, but apparently she can’t walk at the same time.

Before you could choke out a laugh, followed shortly by hyperventilating, Dean got out of his seat and went up to the stage.

His supportive hand came to rest on the small of your back, while the other was offered to you palm facing up, next to where you had a death grip on the podium. You met his eyes, and he gave you a steady look. 

“You got this,” he said in a lowered voice.

You took his hand. He guided you off the stage and back into your seat. His lips pressed to your cheek.

“You did great,” Dean said quietly in your ear. “He’d be proud of you.”

You held onto his hand for the rest of the service.

Your big house was good for one thing: it made for a roomy reception.

Thank God you hadn’t had to cook yourself. Ellen had brought everything you might’ve wanted or needed by way of food and drinks, and true to Dean’s word, she’d given you what you suspected was a heavily discounted price. You’d tried to give her an extra tip earlier, but she’d folded the envelop and stuck it behind the neckline of your dress.

“We already covered payment, and I don’t wanna hear about it again,” Ellen said. “Now help me unwrap these chicken strips.”

You gave a tremulous smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Later, while Ellen went to grab the utensils and plates, you found yourself side by side with Jo in your kitchen. She gave you a smile that was both kind and reserved.

“I’m sorry about your grandpa,” she said, pausing on uncasing a container of sandwiches. Her blue eyes looked sincere.

“Thank you,” you replied. Your small smile was genuine as well. Until Andréa and Benny came in, with Dean right behind.

“Can we help?” Andréa asked. Her question was pointed, and filled with double meaning as her eyes met yours.

After a moment, you decided to swallow your pride for now. It was only a few more hours, and then your house would be empty.

“Can you get the dining table set up?” you asked.

Andréa nodded, but you stopped her before she could venture out into the dining room.

“Where’re you going?” you asked.

She shot you a frown. “To do what you asked.”

“Tablecloths are in the linen closet,” you reminded her. “You can grab the beige one.”

“Oh, I thought you would’ve taken that out already,” she said. As if you didn’t have a million other things to remember to do today.

“Well, it’s there,” you said, trying to be patient.

Andréa’s lips pursed. “In the linen closet? The one in the hall?”

You sighed as you finished unwrapping the second package of potato salad. Your patience thinned.

“No, the one in the attic,” you snipped dryly. You knew you were kind of being a bitch, but you could’ve grabbed the damn tablecloth yourself in this time.

Andréa agreed wordlessly and left the kitchen with clipped heels.

Meanwhile, Dean surveyed the scene between you and your friend, and sensed that something was off there. Even Jo shot him a subtle brow raise. Dean’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t want to say anything to you just yet. He knew you had a lot on your mind.

Instead, he glanced at Benny, who gave his friend a telling look.

Dean took in a breath. “Okay, uh. What else do you need, babe?”

You looked up at him, softening. “Maybe help Ellen bring in the drinks and stuff? She just went out to her car.”

Dean nodded. “Sure.”

He and Benny left the kitchen, giving Dean a chance to get the scoop.

“Something going on between Thelma and Louise? That was downright frosty back there,” he remarked.  

Benny scoffed. “What, you didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Dean asked.

“They had a big blow out a couple weeks ago.”

“Seriously? I didn’t hear a word about it.”

“Well that’s confoundin’,” Benny said, rubbing at his beard. “‘Cause I certainly did. In excruciating detail.”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smirk, but it soon faded.

After the lasts guests left the house, and the cleanup was done for the night, it got down to you and Dean alone in the house. Your family had never been a large one. Just you and your grandparents. And then, it had been just you and your grandfather for so long…

You now dreaded the moment that it would finally be just you.

At least tonight, you had your boyfriend. The two of you were watching a movie on the couch with another slice of leftover cake split between you. For once, you didn’t have the stomach for it. You let Dean polish off the plate.

He tossed it onto the coffee table and then paused the movie for a moment. He knew you weren’t really watching anyway. He rested a hand on your thigh, earning your attention.

“You given any more thought to a new car?” he asked. Yours had been totaled in the accident last month. Between Dean and Meg and Ellen bringing in food and supplies, you hadn’t needed to venture out of your house much ever since the accident.

Now, however, you heaved a sigh. You leveled him with honesty.

“Even with the insurance money left over, I’m not sure I can afford one after the funeral expenses.”

Dean inclined his head. “Okay, hear me out…Bobby owns a salvage yard.”

Your brows rose. “A junkyard?”

“Salvage yard,” he corrected. “He occasionally gets some good finds. I’ll comb through and look for something I can fix up for you.”

“Thanks, but…” You were grateful for him trying to help, but you still weren’t sure about adopting a “salvage yard” rescue car.

“You think I’m gonna put you in something that isn’t safe?” Dean asked, squeezing your thigh. The weight in his eyes sobered you.

“Okay, thanks. Let me know what you find,” you agreed. He nodded, but before he put the movie back on, he decided to broach something else.

“So, Benny filled me in on your little fight club moment with Andréa,” he said.

You sighed and leaned back on the couch, crossing your arms. “It wasn’t fight club.”

But an awkward silence fell between you and Dean as you didn’t offer anything more. He sighed and rubbed your knee with his thumb.

“You guys had a falling out?” he asked.

Your brows knitted together. “You want to hear about my girl drama?”

Ordinarily? Not really, Dean could admit. He liked “tea” as much as the next person, but he wasn’t angling for drama so much as for your trust. He was still new to this whole “boyfriend” thing. But still, this felt like something you could’ve come to him with.

“Look, if you’re upset…for any reason, you can tell me,” he said. “Thinking that’s my job as the boyfriend.”

…Well, shit, you thought, as guilt sunk heavy in your chest. How could you argue with that? 

You sighed and threw your hands up, before they landed on his. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Well,” you said, “I broke up with my best friend.”

Dean blinked at that. That would definitely make it awkward to double date.

“Aw, you didn’t break up, did you?”

When you merely gave him a look, he nodded. “All right. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

You sighed, but you explained it to him. You told him about your ongoing frustrations with your friend’s self-centeredness, and her lack of self-awareness at times. And while you took responsibility for the way you’d gone off on her that day on your porch, a large part of you still felt justified. Even if that made you the “bitch.”

“Well, look. If this is something that you can’t get past, then I get it. Sometimes you needa cut people out,” Dean said eventually. “But I’m thinking, right now, you need support. Maybe she didn’t give it when you needed her, but maybe she’s hurtin’ about this too… At least, that’s what Benny says.”

At first, you frowned. Your throat was tight with emotion, probably from today, but maybe because he was saying things you had already been thinking, deep down. You just didn’t want to admit it.

“You just want us to smooth things over so it won’t make it awkward for you with your friend,” you shot back.

Dean frowned, raising placating hands. “That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Come on. You know that’s not it.”

You wiped at your eyes, as they were starting to sting with unshed tears. You knew you weren’t being fair. He was just trying to help.

“Sorry,” you said, in a calmer voice. “…I’ll think about it, okay? Because you’re right. It’s not just her…I also just can’t shake this feeling. Like my world is getting smaller, and someday I’m going to be the only one left.”

And there it was. Yet another fear you didn’t want to admit. It was your worst fear: being alone.

You were hesitant to let your gaze leave your lap, to meet Dean’s. When you did, you were met by his softened look. He went for your hand again.

“Listen. You still have people,” he said. “Doesn’t matter if they’re related to you by blood or not. Real family’s gonna fight and bitch. But they’re also gonna be there, like your friend was today.”

You sighed heavily. Once again, you knew he was right. Despite the awfulness of your fight, Andréa had come to your grandfather’s funeral. She helped you set up for the reception, and she stayed until the last hour helping with the cleanup, along with Benny, Sam, Eileen, and the rest of Dean’s friends. They were now your friends too.

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily. “Dean, I love you. I love you so damn much.”

Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. A sigh expelled through his nose as he pressed a lingering kiss into your neck.

Warm. It felt warm in his chest. Almost overwhelming.

He’d been letting instinct guide him since the day he met you. So even though he hesitated to answer at first, he knew.

“I love you too,” he admitted. You held onto him that much tighter.

In hindsight, he’d already known. The day of the car accident, when you’d called him in tears and asked for his help, he realized just how much he’d do for you. The lengths he would go to make sure you were okay.

That you were safe, and his.

Nick Savage was an opportunist at heart.

Sure, he’d flunked out of college. Big fucking whoop.

Now he stood at the literal head of a multimillion-dollar company. He ruled in the very same office where he once sat on the floor as a ten-year-old kid, playing with his Batman action figure. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d watched his father hook new “clients” between glasses of scotch.

Now, Nick was the one making deals.

He stared out of the immense window of his office as he practiced his putting swing. These golf clubs had been a gift (to himself), and he thought he could’ve pursued it harder when he was younger, if he hadn’t lost focus in high school.

Maybe if his dad had attended even one of his games, he would’ve pursued sports past the varsity level. He had the talent. He could’ve gotten scouted…

Nick blew out a breath.   

“Well, this is what I like to see,” a droll voice said from the doorway. “A man hard at work.”

Nick’s head raised slowly. His brows twitched with surprise, but he soon covered it up with a hint of a dry smile.

“Welcome back, Dad,” Nick drawled. “Where were you? Venice? Greece?”

Daniel Savage was only slightly taller than his son. His build was broader, his blonde hair graying at the temples, but his blue eyes were sharp.

He dressed the part of a wealthy mogul: brown slacks, smart shoes, dark green turtleneck, with sleeves bunched up on his forearms, and a black Rolex on his wrist. Its watch face flashed in the afternoon light as he smoked a cigarette indoors. 

He stepped inside the office, letting Nick’s assistant close the door.

“The hottest fucking country known to man,” said Daniel. He cocked his head as he took in all the changes to his office. He noted the untidy bar area with a critical eye.

“It was fun,” he added. “Got a nice tan. But it was starting to chafe…you know why?”

Nick rolled his eyes and straightened from his putting. He leaned on his club.

“I have everything under control,” he said.

“You see, if that were true,” Daniel said. His slow but measured gait drew him closer to his son. He flicked a bit of ash from his cigarette onto Nick’s shoe. “I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”

“You didn’t have to come,” Nick said, subtly shaking off his shoe. He tried to maintain his nonchalance, but even now, his father’s gaze pinned his feet to the floor. “Everything’s fine. I’m handling it.”

Daniel paused for a moment. The cigarette was poised between two fingers while his arm crossed beneath his elbow. He stared at his son like he was trying to figure out where the hell he went wrong.

“You know how I know you’re lying?” Daniel asked.

He then smacked his son so hard up the head, it made Nick trip over his golf club. It skittered to the floor, and he had to catch himself on the nearby couch. His arm chafed against the brown leather.

“Fuck,” he yelped.

Daniel grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him around, until he was leaning against the couch arm.

“Because you’re single-handedly driving my empire into the ground with stupid. Fucking. Mistakes,” Daniel said. His tone was calm and even, but deep in his eyes was hellfire. “Alastair can only do so much to clean up after you.”

Nick swallowed. “I thought…using your brand would send a message. Remind people that our name still has power.”

By that, of course, he meant the various kills he’d ordered in the past six months. Each marked with a burn on their body—a symbol that even now was etched on his father’s ring: two snakes devouring one another.

“My name,” Daniel corrected. “The problem is, you use my mark, people think you’re me. And…well, you’re not, are you?”

Nick’s gaze cut away.

“And I was on sabbatical for a reason,” Daniel reminded. “I was kinda supposed to be dead.”

He took a long drag of his cigarette. When he blew out the smoke, the smell reminded Nick of nights he spent in the back rooms of old bars and clubs as a kid, watching his father play cards with old “friends of the family.”

But sometimes, family friends shot one another over money owed and disrespected protocols. 

“Never kill your accountant, you idiot,” Daniel said. He punctuated this by tapping Nick hard on the chest, with the same two fingers that held his smoke. “The devil’s in the details. In this case, the numbers.”

Daniel shook his head and blew more smoke. “The cops are onto you…one in particular, in fact, who’s a few steps shy of pinning your ass against the wall.” 

And one step away from mine, his tone implied. Hence why he’d returned from sabbatical, Nick realized, with a sinking feeling.

Okay, maybe he’d fucked up putting the hit on Jerry Stillwell, but the grubby little man had been demanding a bigger cut for his “continuing silence.”

Daniel sighed and raised a hand to rub between his eyes. He turned towards the desk and put out his cigarette on an ashtray. 

“Technology’s gotten too good, Nicholas. It’s not like it was 30 years ago. Nowadays, when you start a damn fire, the cops tend to look at that shit a bit harder.”

Nick straightened up onto his feet. His hands clenched into fists with the same fire that always drove him: the desire to be useful. To be seen by his father. To matter. 

“The cop, I know who he is. It’s the same one that tried to burn you last time,” Nick said. “John Winchester.”

Daniel scoffed, giving a short nod. “I know. The man’s fucking obsessed.”

Nick smiled. “I’ve already been working on a plan with Alastair—”

“You’ll do nothing,” Daniel snapped. He glanced at his son over his shoulder. “From now on, I’m back in the saddle. Nothing happens without my word. That includes this company.”

Nick frowned at that. A trill of anger made his nails bite into his palms.

“Savage & Co. is mine,” he argued. “You gave it to me.”

“That’s right. I’m correcting that bit of oversight.”

“We’ve been margining the best profits we’ve ever had,” Nick said. He mentally scoured your latest sales report in his brain. “Our projections—”

“Don’t mean shit,” Daniel said. He turned on his heel, with a hand in his pocket. “You do realize that this building? It’s just a pretty face. The real magic happens behind the curtain.”

He took note of the gold pen showcased on Nick’s desk. He picked it up…and threw it as hard as he could towards the bar. Nick flinched as glass bottles of fine liquor shattered.

“As we speak, there are deals closing all over the world,” Daniel continued. “Shipments being made back and forth through customs, all perfectly legal, as long as it has this company’s stamp…but that’s all about to unravel. And evidently, the only one who can keep the entire goddamn operation from crumbling into nothing, is ME!”

Nick tried not to flinch again at his father’s raised voice. That brought back memories too.

His gaze lowered. Meanwhile, Daniel took pains to inhale deeply, taking more even breaths. His hand brushed back his hair, as if smoothing down proverbial ruffled feathers.

“It’s all right, son,” he said with a slippery smile. “Azazel’s back in town.”

The next morning marked your official first day back in the office. After a little over a month of working from home, it felt odd to actually get dressed in the “workwear” side of your closet, complete with slacks, blouse, flat shoes, and a blazer.

No more making yourself a nice breakfast at home. No more Dean dropping in on his off days to hang out during the day, making you feel like you weren’t completely alone in your old, too-big house.

Back to the office, where you had to be completely and 100% on your game. Or else you wouldn’t be taken seriously by the would-be Jon Hamms of your office.

However, for every floor that Betsy the elevator climbed, the more your stomach churned. For once, it wasn’t just because you didn’t want to deal with Nick. You genuinely just didn’t want to be here.

“Buck up sweetheart,” as your grandfather would often say, when he watched you pause at the front door, taking a breath before you left for the day.

“Give it your very best, and no matter what crap happens afterwards, you can’t be disappointed in yourself.”

You remembered his encouragements. His smile. The way he subtly reminded you not to be so hard on yourself. The way he always knew how to make you laugh when you were at your most exhausted, or discouraged. The way he’d been your best friend and your father all at once.

You let out a shaky sigh, and you stopped the elevator three floors before the 22nd.

Before you fully realized what you were doing, you found yourself standing in the doorway of Andréa’s cubicle. She looked up at you a bit startled at first. Her brows drew together, but then, she seemed to soften.

You must’ve looked like hell.

“Hey…is it your first day back to the office?” she asked.

You nodded, because you weren’t sure what would come out if you spoke. Your hands were shaking, you also realized.

Andréa’s hazel eyes gentled. She stood and went over to you, resting a hand on your arm. After a beat, she just took your hand. You bit your lip, and your eyes watered, meeting hers.

“You’re not ready to be here, are you?” she asked.

After a beat, you made a negative sound and shook your head.

“Okay. Let’s get you back to your office so you can put in your PTO. I know you’ve got days racked up, since you’re a workaholic.”

You gave a tremulous smile. You let her lead you out of her cubicle and back towards the elevators.

“Nick is going to be an asshole about it,” you said weakly.

Andréa threw her head back and scoffed. “Nick can suck my dick twice on a Tuesday.”

She had you laughing through your tears. Then laughing until your stomach hurt.

She chortled, though she shushed you when you two walked out into the main hallway. A couple of guys from Legal shot you strange looks, but you ignored them. The lawyers at your company were starch-pressed assholes. 

“Wanna grab brunch?” Andréa asked, when the elevator opened up for you two. 

I’m sorry, her gaze said. You gave her a softer smile, accompanied by a nod.

Me too. You squeezed her hand. You two could talk the rest out later, but for now, you just wanted peace.

“Yeah, but for the love of God, not Geraldo’s,” you replied. “Last time, I think I got food poisoning just from the salad bar.”

Andréa laughed and pressed the floor for your office.

“Oh, hun. That’s what you get for eating rabbit food.” 

Bit by bit, you started to pick up the pieces of yourself.

You ended up at Dean’s apartment more often than not, as being at home made your skin crawl with loneliness most nights.

He and Sam always welcomed you. In fact, Dean got a kick out of trading off cooking dinner with you. And you had to admit, he made a damn good burger.

So you decided to do something you hadn’t done in months. You grabbed every pan the brothers had, flour, eggs, sugar, salt, and the two leftover apples that looked like they were just about to turn. You started peeling them.

Meanwhile, Dean watched you spark to life as you baked in his kitchen. He sat from his corner at the dining table, still able to see you with his iPad in hand. A slow smile grew across his face.

“Apple pie?” he asked.

You looked up at him. “Apple cake. I don’t think I can compete with your mom’s recipe.”

“Damn, I really wish we had it,” he said. “I’d trust you do to it right.”

You tossed him a smile back. “Well, that’s high praise. Maybe one day I’ll give it a try…I don’t think I’ve made pie in a while.”

Dean watched you mix ingredients, whipping up a storm with the wooden spoon in the bowl. You dearly missed your Kitchen Aid mixer.

“You guys really need a better arsenal up in here,” you muttered. “Feel like I’m a damn Quaker churning butter over here.”

Your boyfriend burst out laughing. You looked up at him, your lips tugging back into a smile. You hadn’t even meant to make him laugh, but at least someone thought you were funny.

Dean tilted his head thoughtfully while he scrolled through football highlights on the small screen.

“Well, if you’re going to be over here more often, guess I’m gonna have to step up my game,” he said, “hit up a Homegoods.”

Your smile started to fall, as something occurred to you. “Oh, you don’t have to do all that.”

Dean noticed the shift in you, with a frown of his own.

“What?” he asked. You glanced over at him.

“Nothing, just…” You sighed. Hands on your hips, you paused in your churning to turn towards him. “It’s okay that I’ve been hanging out here more often, right? I mean…you’ll tell me if you need space. Or if Sam—”

Dean held up a hand. “Hold up. I’m gonna stop you right there.”

He set down his iPad on the table and got up from his seat. He joined you in the kitchen, letting his hand skim the counter as he drew into your personal space. You looked up at him and unconsciously held your breath.

Dean stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Have I said or done something to make you think I don’t want you here? Has Sam?”

You frowned, but you shook your head. “No, baby. I just want to make sure I’m not…I don’t know, overstaying my welcome.”

His eyes met yours frankly. “You’re not.”

His hand fell from your face, just to bring you in close by your waist. He dropped a kiss onto your forehead.

“I’d just be worrying about you over there anyway. Alone in that big house,” he admitted.

You blew out a breath and leaned into him, resting your hands against his chest.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Grandpa told me to sell it, but…I don’t know if I can do that.”

Dean didn’t want to tell you what to do here. Personally, he thought you’d be better off selling it, both for practical reasons and for your own wellbeing. But he could also understand the sentimental side of it too.

“Well, you’ve got time to figure it out,” he said.

You nodded. A smile returned to your face, and you looked up at him.

“But first, cake,” you said.

Dean smiled down at you. He could certainly live with that.

He later moaned while sampling said confection. The apple and spices were the perfect ratio of sweetness to softness. The cake was buttery and delicious. And you really were talented, he thought.

“I’m telling you, babe, you really need to get back into this,” he said around another bite. “I mean professionally. Who needs corporate assholes when you’ve got cinnamon apples?”

Sitting across from him at the dining table, you giggled at the sight of this massive man child with his mouth full. Though he might’ve had a point…maybe it was time to revisit your “pipe dream.” Or at least the very thing you went to school for.

If only working at a bakery slinging pastry dough paid the same as your sales job.

“This was my grandma’s recipe,” you told him. “She’s the one who taught me how to cook, how to bake.”

Dean made a “top notch” symbol with his hand. “She sure knew what she was doin’.”

Your good humor soon faded, though you tried to hide it. You were tired of bringing down the people around you. You wanted to just be yourself again…but it seemed your heavy heart wouldn’t let you.

You realized you hadn’t succeeded when Dean’s hand fell over yours. You looked up and met his eyes. They asked a question without speaking as his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand.

“My family’s gone, Dean,” you said wearily, fighting the tears stinging in your eyes.

You still technically had extended family members, but most of them had always looked down at your grandparents, after seeing how they’d “failed” with your mother, then raised the daughter she’d had from a one-night stand she’d met in a bar. Those same people had pitied you when you were young, and barely looked you in the eyes at both of your grandparents’ funerals.

So in your mind, the only real family you had was gone.

But Dean squeezed your hand.

“No,” he said. “They’re right here. In these hands.”

Once again his thumb swept across the back of your knuckles. “You’ve still got what they gave you. Your mind, your spirit, and a lot of other things that make you, you…”

His lips pulled at a smile.

“And you’ve still got me,” he added.

Slowly, you smiled back. You leaned over and held his face in your hands, stroking his stubble covered cheeks.  

“That I do,” you said, and your voice only shook a little. “Thank God for that.”

When you kissed him, it felt as natural as taking a breath. You two had shared tender moments in the past few weeks, born of pain and comfort. But this time had a spark of hunger as your hand drifted down his neck.

Dean kissed you back, pleasantly surprised by the demand of your tongue. He hummed in question, though he gripped your arms to keep you close.

You answered him by licking further into his mouth, kissing him deeper. You broke for a moment, just to meet his eyes. The heat in his was familiar, prickling delightful sensations across your skin. Especially when he dragged you into his lap and continued to devour you against the kitchen table.

Your hands slipped under his black Henley and between the muscles in his back. Some of them twitched under your touch, and you let your nails drag slowly back down his spine.

Fuck, he shuddered. It felt nice (and arousing), but it reminded him of other times your nails had raked across his back.

He gripped your thighs tight, and he contemplated laying you out right here on the dining table, for all he cared. Matter of fact, he’d eat apple cake off your body, if you were down for it.

Unfortunately, that was when Sam finally unlocked the door and got home from work. He caught you and Dean breathless and pupils wide, your hair frizzy and your shirt halfway up over your bra. You hastily tugged it down, while he did the same for himself.

Meanwhile, Sam just rolled his eyes.

“You do have a room, you know,” he said wryly.

Dean cleared his throat and shot you a meaningful look. You nodded, slipping off his lap. But you grabbed his hand and pulled him up with you.

Dean shot his brother a wink over his shoulder. “When the room’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.”

Sam scoffed. “As if I’d give myself that kind of family trauma.”

“Leftovers are in the fridge, Sam!” you called, even though you were halfway down the hall with Dean on your heels.

Sam huffed as he heard your squeal, followed by a door slamming shut. And yet, he smiled. His brother might’ve become part of the “happily committed,” but some things just didn’t change.

Afterwards, you really felt nothing but peace.

Your head rested on your arms, across Dean’s lap. You were comfortable and naked and tangled in his sheets, while he soothed a hand through your wild hair. Ace Ventura played on the TV, and you enjoyed listening to him laugh.

You were too tired, physically and emotionally, to be as vocal. Your body shook in silent laughter, goaded on by his. And that was enough for Dean.

It was enough for you too.

AN: 🥹 I hope you enjoyed that bit of hurt/comfort at the end there, but really throughout this. Dean's really proved himself, hasn't he? But let's talk about "Azazel"...

Did you like the reveal? It changes how you look at Nick, huh?

Well, he's about to get worse.

(Don't worry too much though. There will be protective!Dean.)

Next Time:

He grabbed your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”

You shoved his hand off of you.

“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”

Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge.

Keep Reading: PART 13

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[chimnation]

.

[columboscreens]

there are definitely flaws with It's All in the Game but the same is true of even a lot of the best loved classic episodes. I personally find Spielberg's episode overrated because it's a bog-standard murder story, it is a good looking episode but the plot is meh and it's full of the worst murder mystery cliches like the insertion of an incompetent blackmailer who invariably becomes another victim -- a cliche repeated throughout the series

personally I rank It's All in the Game up near the best of the classic series. maybe it's not as good as Prescription Murder, Ransom for a Dead Man, Death Lends a Hand, Short Fuse, or Forgotten Lady, but I'd still put it in my top ten for the entire Columbo canon

(most of those listed above have flaws too, everything does, and a lot is personal taste as to which flaws are the worst ones)

I didn't know he had written it in the 70s, but that does explain why it feels so much more like a classic Columbo episode than most of the other revival episodes felt like to me

also I know they're movies not episodes but. hard habit to break tbh

anyway my biggest problem is the way it ends. imo he should've let them both go, the guy they killed was abusing them and threatened to kill one of them, they had no recourse. go to the cops? cops wouldn't have done a thing and the guy would've retaliated violently. and you know there's no way they'd get a fair trial even if they pled self-defense

Columbo to me has always been like... some mythical good cop, the kind that doesn't exist in real life or would get murdered by his fellow cops if he did. he carries no gun, he's compassionate to murderers he meets, he tells suspects to stop talking & get a lawyer... he sets up one of his fellow cops (who outranks him!) to incriminate himself by trying to frame a crook, that can't have made Columbo very popular with his fellow cops

I just felt like when Columbo knew the whole story he should've helped them both. again, it could be worse, he could've arrested both. but even setting aside my personal morality, it'd be so great to see him let a killer go, even if you didn't agree that it was right -- maybe especially if audiences didn't agree it was the right thing to do. idk

anyway I love the Columbo resurgence. I was lucky to see a bunch of episodes in reruns as a kid when my grandparents had satellite TV, so I've been a fan long before he started to get big again on tumblr -- not that it matters or I'm bragging, just giving context to say it's really great to see people watch old stuff and become new fans of it because it's so good

oh yeah, every columbo has its flaws, it's just a matter of personal taste as to which ones are most egregious.

i do think murder by the book is easy to laugh at now as bog-standard and "overrated", but it was truly groundbreaking when it hit TVs. that's really the beauty of it, anyway--columbo needed to start somewhere and establish a formula.

i do agree that the script for it's all in the game being written in the 70s definitely comes through. the episode itself has some 90s cheesiness to it that i don't think it would have had if actually made in the 70s (and i do wish it was), but underneath is a very real and interesting type of story.

i don't think columbo should've let both of them go as i think that'd cross over into going against the heart of his character--he is a "good cop", but no matter how justified they may have been in their act, they've still ended another person's life. the one time he does let a perp go is only because she has a terminal degenerative brain disease and no longer even remembers the murder.

the man isn't judge judy, nor executioner for that matter. he just gathers enough evidence to prove to everyone that you did you what you did

besides which, if lauren staton can afford good lawyers (she can) and provide proof that her ex boyfriend was a two-timing piece of shit who wanted to kill her (she probably can) then she likely wouldn't have ended up serving that much time anyway. i think columbo knew that, too.

more about this and some of the mcgoohan episodes under the cut since this post is already so long....

i'm not sure where i'd rank it, myself. probably not top 10 all time columbos, but i would certainly rank it amongst the originals simply because it dares to push columbo's character in a way that's high quality, believable, and fun to watch, all while retaining his aura of mystery.

it makes me wonder how that episode would've come out if patrick mcgoohan had directed it. i don't always agree with mcgoohan's interpretations of columbo's character, but he dared to innovate and dared to usher the character into new territory with high-quality technique, and i think that alone is commendable. even last salute to the commodore where columbo is clearly stoned is a commendable entry because it's (at least in my eyes) not a failure of an episode, it's a sharp self-parody of the series as a whole.

take by dawn's early light. we're shown his quarters, which is groundbreaking stuff. hell, link & levinson balked at showing columbo's office in earlier seasons, let alone where he's retiring for the evening.

we may have inferred that columbo would be driven so mad by a case detail that he'd get out of bed in the middle of the night, but we actually get to SEE that here. we get to see him padding around in an undershirt at 3am, kept awake by ballistic detail, then waking up in the morning and washing up. it's not earth-shattering, but it's one of many meaningful peeks into the character's workings hallmarked by the mcgoohan episodes.

plus, i mean. need i say more

in identity crisis, where mcgoohan directs and exerts far greater control over the story, we get to see columbo made really uncomfortable in one of the most masterfully-done cat-and-mouse bouts in the series. agent brenner reads him front to back (NERVOUS? want a CIGAR to CALM DOWN huh lieutenant?? lemme mock you with your wife's favorite song while i take off your protective carapace)

so it makes me wonder how he would've tackled it's all in the game! combined with faye dunaway, i think it would've really elevated things even further. though they were both divas so perhaps the whole thing would've just imploded lmao

[riskypeaches]

2,365 Days

2,365 days. That’s how long it took you to realize that you were in love with Han Jisung. It took him another 36 to realize that he never stopped.

Pairing: Han Jisung/reader, female reader.

Word Count: 2.1k 

Genre: Romance, college au, idiots in love, slight angst, angst with a happy ending, childhood best friends to lovers au.

Warnings: Excessive usage of italics and Y/N because that’s how I roll. Also profanity, I like to cuss. 

Bits and pieces of a story idea I had for Han. Events happen chronologically, but a fair amount of time is skipped before and after each bit. Heavily inspired by the song Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship), go ahead and take a listen!

                                                                                                                        ↢

“Two thousand, three hundred and sixty-five days!”, you shouted. 

Jisung stopped in his tracks, furrowing his eyebrows. “Y/N, what are you on about?”.

“Two thousand, three hundred and sixty-five days”, you stated again. “That’s- that’s how long it took me to realize I was in love with you”.

His mouth parted in shock at your confession. “Look, Y/N-”, he started but you cut him off. 

“I don’t want to hear it!”, you said furiously shaking your head. “I know it’s stupid! I am never going to be over how stupid it was that I could be in love with someone for that long and not realize it until a couple weeks ago!”. 

He took a step forward reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder. On any other day you would have gladly accepted the comfort, but the look in his eyes in that moment sickened you. In all the years you had known him, he had never once looked at you like that. And you fucking hated it. 

All you could see was pity. 

You dodged his hand, instead letting your own arms wrap around your front. You didn’t want comfort from him, not right now at least. All his touch did was make you hurt. 

“The worst part about this is that I think you used to be in love with me too”, you murmured, shrinking into yourself. “And I’m- I’m so sorry I never realized it until now because I think… I think I could have saved you a lot of pain if I just took one fucking look at what was right in front of me”. 

“Y/N…”, he said looking at you with a pained expression. 

“Jisung I’m sorry, I really am. I know you’re with someone right now. I’m not trying to- steal you from them or something I just…”, you trailed off. 

“You just what?”, he said. 

“I just!”, you said looking at the ceiling to hold back your tears. Pressing the heel of your hands into your eyes you took deep steadying breaths. 

“Jisung, I want you to be happy. I really do. And if that girl makes you happy then- that��s enough for me! I just… needed to give my best friend an explanation instead of dropping off the face of the earth”. 

“Dropping off…?” he said, beginning to look vaguely panicked. “Where are you going?”. 

“I’m just going home!”, you said waving your hands back and forth in a placating manner. “For… a couple of months at least”.

“Y/N. You haven’t been back home since the day we graduated high school”. 

“I know”, you whispered looking at the floor. “I just need time to myself right now. These feelings are all new and I… I know I can’t be a good friend to you right now. Seeing you, being with you it just- hurts. I’m not the best friend you deserve right now”. 

Jisung made a pained noise in the back of his throat and stepped in closer towards you. “I’m not mad at you! You don’t need to leave, if that’s what you’re afraid of”, he said placing his hands on your shoulders. 

“No that’s not it Jisung”, you said gently brushing off his hands. “I just- for me to be a good friend, the one who can support you and the relationship you’ve found yourself in, I need time to get over these feelings. And I know that’s something I can’t do right now. So, I’m going home”. 

Jisung sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. Taking another look at you he seemed to decide that you were being serious and dropped onto your couch in defeat. 

“You’re not… you’re not leaving right?”, he said head hanging down to his knees. “You’re coming back?”.

You gave a half hearted laugh and collapsed next to him. 

“Han Jisung, just because the unfortunate side effects of the human condition cause me to have feelings for you that does not mean that you are ever going to be able to get rid of me”. 

He gave a chuckle in response, still refusing to lift his head up. You tried to ignore the fact that he was sniffling through giggles. For his sake. 

You gently nudged his shoulder with your own. 

“I’ve known you for almost 7 years now. You’re stuck with me for life”. 

He laughed fully this time, trying to subtly wipe at his eyes. “Kylie”, he said tilting his head at you and giving you a watery smile. “What do you think about her?”. 

You gave him your own watery smile in return, “I really like her”, you said. 

And it was the truth.

                                                              ↢ 

Something was off, Jisung thought. In fact, something was off about this entire week. 

His grades we’re up, better than they ever had been, he was dating an amazing girl, he had a steady job so… life is good. 

Life was good, right?

                                                             ↢

“Are you done moping yet?”, Chan said casually sipping at his soda. 

“Moping?”, I asked. “I’m not moping”. 

Chan rolled his eyes throwing another french fry into his mouth. “You clearly are. But, if we’re still in the denial stage that’s fine. We can just talk about… uh”, chan said nibbling at his fry thoughtfully. “Oh!”, he shouted suddenly. “Professor Brewer’s paper! Why don’t we work on it now? What are you doing for the prompt?”. 

I sighed and rested my head on my palm. “I already finished it”, I grumbled twirling my soda straw aimlessly. 

Chan’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “You fucking what?!”, he said choking on his soda. 

“Shit dude are you ok?”, I said patting at his back. He waved me off, spluttering an “I’m ok” back. 

“You WHAT”, he said after regaining his breath. 

I shrank back in my seat. “I er- already finished it?”, I said nervously.

“Han”, Chan deadpanned. “We have 4 days left until that paper is due”. 

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. “4 days isn’t that long you know, I have other classes too. Besides, don’t you always finish your assignments the day they're assigned?”. 

He waved me off leaning back in his seat. “Yeah I do, but that’s not the point”. 

“I’m sorry… then what exactly is the point then?”, I asked steadily growing more confused. 

“The point is! You never even bother to look at your assignments until the day they’re due!”, Chan said exasperatedly. 

I eyed him warily. “Why are you getting so worked up about this?”.

“Because!”, he all but shouted. “You’re an idiot!”. 

“Hey!”, I said. “Just because you’re my hyung doesn’t mean you can just call me stupid!”, I huffed crossing my arms at him. “I’ll have you know I have a 3.8 this quarter”. 

“Exactly”, Chan groaned while slowly dragging a hand across his face. 

“What the hell are you on about?”, I said genuinely starting to become annoyed with the conversation. 

“Hannie”, he said sighing. “The only reason you have such good grades this quarter is because you’re not following Y/N around like a lost puppy”. 

My heart panged at the mention of her name. “I don’t know what you're talking about”, I breathed. 

“Yes you do”, he said with a stern look in his eyes. “You have shitty grades every quarter because all you ever want to do is spend time with her. The only reason you get by is because she chews your ass out when she finds out you’ve been slacking”. 

“Nope”, I shook my head adamantly. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a girlfriend, everything’s just fine”.

“Ok the fact that you brought that up when I wasn’t even talking about your girlfriend makes me feel like there’s more to unpack there but… baby steps. We’ll come back to that”

Chan looked at me with an expectant look in his eyes, as if waiting for me to say something. I shrugged helplessly at him, not knowing what he wanted from me. 

He sighed heavily through his nose before apparently giving up on what he’d been waiting for. 

“Hannie…”, he said gently. Chan carefully put his hand on my shoulder and looked at me with sympathetic look in his eyes. “You miss her”. 

I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “No I don’t”, I said shaking my head at him. 

“Han, you’ve spent nearly every single day with Y/N since you guys we’re 13. You can’t expect me to believe- actually you can’t expect yourself to believe that you don’t miss her”. 

“Not true”, I muttered. “When we were in school she went back in the summers to visit her family”.

“Fine then- you spent everyday with her albeit 2 months out of the year. That’s not even true for the past 3 years! She hasn’t been back these summers, she stayed with you”. 

I sighed heavily, sliding even further down my seat. “What do you want me to do?”, I mumbled miserably. 

“I want you to stop being an idiot and acknowledge that you're upset, and that you have been for the past month”.

“Because Y/N’s gone?”, I asked slowly. 

“Because Y/N’s gone.”, Chan affirmed. 

                                                            ↢

“Jisung?”, you asked incredulously. “How the hell did you get here? Why the hell are you here?”.

Jisung was near hyperventilating at this point, he felt that his lungs might collapse from the sheer stress of the situation. 

Alright, alright. Calm down. Just remember what Chan and Changbin told you in the car ride over this is fine everything’s fine. 

“I broke up with Kylie!”, I blurted out. 

Everything was not fucking fine. 

You crossed your arms and gave him a stern look. “Han Jisung I had to suffer through weeks of you non-stop talking about that girl. You better have not just broken up with her I swear to god-”

“She doesn’t make me cheesecake!”, I shouted cutting off her rant. 

She looked even more confused than when she first realized I was standing in her grandparent’s yard. “Jisung what on earth are you talking about?”, she said. 

What on earth indeed.

“I’m sure if it's really that big of a problem”, she said utterly perplexed. “She could just learn how to make one dude?”. 

“Even if she did, it wouldn’t be your cheesecake!”, I said desperately. 

“...what?”. 

“It wouldn’t be the same as the ones you make me and- she doesn’t stay up with me all night trying to help me figure out rhymes for my lyrics even though you know you can’t rap for shit. And sure, she can skateboard and that’s pretty cool but she’s not the dumbass who thought launching herself off an out of control board was a great idea and face planted in the middle of four way traffic-”. 

“Hey!”, she huffed indignantly. 

I ignored her, continuing to roll right through my rant. 

“And she doesn’t snore like a fucking buzzsaw, which would be so cute if it didn’t sound so god damn concerning. And she doesn’t watch romance movies with me even though you absolutely despise them and-”, I said stopping abruptly. 

“And?”, she asked softly. 

“And I don’t love her”, I breathed feeling the tips of my ears turn red. “Not the way that I love you”. 

“Oh”, she said. 

I laughed at her dumbfounded expression. “It took me 36 days and 2 hyungs to realize I was still in love with you and all you have to say in response is ‘oh’?”. 

She huffed at me in annoyance. “I spilled my guts out to you a month ago, what the hell else do you want?! Some kind of blood oath??”. 

“If that’s what it takes for you to tell me you love me right now then yeah, I think that’s fair”. 

“You should have asked for that a whole fucking month ago!”, she said stamping her foot in annoyance. 

“Hey! You may have had to wait a month but I had to wait 6 whole fucking years before you even acknowledged that you liked me!”. 

“I hate you”. 

“Oh you do? Well I could just- get back in Chan’s car then. Drive back to school”, I teased. 

“Han Jisung I swear to god I will throw this fucking shovel at you”. 

I laughed wholeheartedly, head tilting towards the sky. “Ok ok, I’m sorry. I get it. No leaving allowed, now will you get over here and kiss me already?”. 

“No!” she yelped, turning red. 

“6 years Y/N, I’m a desperate man”. 

“If you don’t shut up I swear to god-”.

[pullingheavendown]

The way the breakdown really accelerated was this,

+ a CW for SI mention:

In December 2022, I went to my sister's for Christmas. I saw my bio dad there because, despite having been diagnosed with DID for a while by then, no memory had ever been about him. As far as I knew, my mom left him when I was two years old and I only saw him once or twice a year. (I was wrong.)

I see my bio dad spending time with my very young nieces. He keeps talking about how my sister should let his parents/our paternal grandparents meet them. My sister had gone NC with them based on gut instinct and the fact they're terrible people in general. She said she'd think about it.

I fly home and within a couple weeks every fucking amnestic barrier is ripped down. Someone or some alter or some mechanism decided that no, fuck all this, the walls are coming down. Because if I can remember what my bio dad and grandparents did to me and tell my sister, then they will never meet our nieces. This is also when I learn that my dad's abuse has continued until as recently as 2018, which was its own separate breakdown.

The way I've worked through this in therapy is basically to frame it as me being incredibly defensive of my nieces' well-being. Willing to remember everything if it means my nieces are safe.

I was in no way ready for this, I was in no way at some healthy stable safe point to start processing memories in therapy, it just had to happen so that my sister remained NC with those people.

This cost me... a lot. I mean: friendships, my job, relationships, my home, my independence, my sobriety. I drank myself into the hospital several times. I stopped showing up to work because all I could do was get high enough to numb the flashbacks. Constant, constant flashbacks.

I don't regret it but I can feel a lot of it stirring again. I feel like dog shit every day. I am not sure who I am most of the time. I am doing a lot of drugs to stay numb and keep it quiet. I want to drink so badly every single fucking moment and carve my skin open if it will mean turning that nebulous angst into something concrete.

So it's amping up, I guess. I dealt with this last year by being too high to function and skipping Christmas and just being on my own for a week. Can't do that this time because I promised my sister I'd show up, and like, you know. What is the point of protecting my nieces if I'm not part of their lives after, anyway.

But holy shit I also want to cut my own throat so badly that I can't focus on anything else. That compulsive urge to punish myself for having remembered and said anything to anyone when I was told to never remember in the first place.

The delicate and infernal balance between "trying to do the work and be present and manage symptoms" and "woops, zoned out for three hours days because it is trauma anniversary nightmare season until January and no one is equipped to be present for this."

[janeelyakiri]

Future’s End Prompt

It’s far, far into the future. S/O and their skele have been happily married for decades and at this point are Great Grandparents, however with time comes age and while skeles might be able to maintain themselves with Magic their S/O has gotten older and is now nearing the end of their life. Doctors say that they have about a week left, how does skele spend it with them?

“S/O is still in relatively good health and is only suffering from old age”

This is a very real thing for my boys. If anyone looks at their info charts and notice the ages there- those are the monster equivalent. These boys all have another good 300-500 years in them compared to a human mate.

Under cut for Sads, Death Warning

Macaw- He helps keep their mood up. Makes them laugh, enjoy life. Brings them in flowers with strong colors and scents so they can still smell them and see them. He makes sure their last week is a happy one.

Lupo- Makes them a fresh meal they can eat for every meal time. He spends as much time as he can with them, giving gentle touches and doting. Using his healing magic when something aches too much.

Falcon- Shit, time flew by... he hates it, he hadn't even realized. Yeah he saw them age but, he still saw just his sweetheart. The wrinkles and greying didn't even register to him as 'old'. He stops smoking and drinking around them and keeps cleaned up, saying they'll get a nice date in soon. He holds their hand a lot, and when they sleep he gets his tears out.

Jackal- Still gives them sweet kisses, still sleeps beside them. They're dressed in the most comfortable clothes, well cared for. He hires people to help but also learns from them with such patience so he can do a lot of it himself. The later funeral will be so grand, people would think royalty had passed on.

Jay- He can't handle it... He asks Dream if there's a way to ease his mate's pain, like a way to bottle his aura. He starts to distance himself some, still there to care for them but it's... gotten a little cold. He wants to appear strong for his mate but that means bottling up everything he's feeling.

Fox- Does take care of them, but hardly leaves their side. Jay has to bring food and while trying to make their last moments nice, Fox can't help but openly cry.

Crow- If he has other mates, he lets them know. And apologizes because he won't be leaving this mate's side for a bit. It's one reason he loves the idea of many partners, so he has that support group to help him and eachother. If it's his only mate, he gets incredibly quiet and stays by them. Forgetting to care for himself as he cares for them. Softly talking about the past with them with small smiles and silent tears.

Hound- He gathers up the rather large family they've made, and makes sure everyone has a chance to say goodbye. It's in some parts a party, celebrating his mate's long life and while sad, it's more bittersweet. Hound makes sure to tell them 'I love you' every chance he gets.

Vulture- He's not ready. He swears you two haven't had that much time! He'll hold onto his mate, whimpering and checking every time they fall asleep or are too quiet for too long. He'll come to terms with it by the end of the week... But for a while his memory won't be kind to him after. But that too will pass, and he will be happy to have had any time with his mate.

Hyena- He mellows out a lot. Almost becomes like his old self, almost. Very soft, very gentle. Takes great care to feed and help his mate as needed. Soothes out any aches and pains. He'll find some way to get a tattoo on his upper humerus, his mate's soul trait. He'll show it to you soon as it's done, proof he'll always remember.

Robin- Amazed you lasted this long, amazed he kept you this long. But now his mate is weak, on death's door. It'd be a shame to let a Soul go to waste... He'll stop the pain right now for you. He prefers Red Souls but his mate's will do.

Dingo- He's so sad, he's whining and whimpering. Begging his brother to help. His brother offers his solution, plays it up as an act of Mercy. Dingo will fall for it, and his mate's soul is split between the brothers.