#drew this while crying for authenticity

[notforsoul]

not even love can fix it

[strawberry-spectre]

okay i need to hear your FULL thoughts on the spelltine comic!!!!!!

ALRIGHT LETS GOOOOOO (ill be commenting on every page of the comic so its gonna be long)

P1. I absolutely LOVE Whisp here, she's so supportive and so fun and I love how they drew her platonically kissing Valentine when he fell (also the pose she makes is the same as the one Val makes in P6 lol). Idk if the ' after some of the words Valentine says is suppose to be showing his southern accent but I love it. I also love the reference to the Eternal Body Odor pit it's so silly :,) BUT NOTHING BEATS VALENTINE DEAD ON THE FLOOR LMAO- and our queen Drac here looks GOREGOUS and I love how they gave her the pink bat necklace Clawd got her in one of the earlier webisodes its soo cute!!

P2. One of my favourite things on this page is how Valentine went from 'WOULDYOULIKETOBEFRIENDS' to 'I mean-' like its so funny how hes tryna act cool even though Draculaura alr saw how nervous he was lmao, the sparkles and sigh puff thing rly made it so much better. My other favourite on this page is Valentine stressing over that interaction with wide eyes staring into nothing with his hands covering his mouth and stray hairs everywhere, its peak fr. I love how espressive Valentine is LIKE OADFVHNAEGIRJ3GVBAGEIRBVAEIUF

P3. SPELLDON DEBUT LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! he genuinely looks so cool and cute at the same time I LOVE his purple undereye eyeshadow it looks like hes got some heavy eye bags lmao- the way Spelldons just calm and collected meanwhile Valentine is reacting to everything like its the biggest shock in his life ever is so funny and I absolutely love that dynamic. I also love how many necklaces Spelldons got on its so him. My favourite line from this page is 'it's gonna be dead in a few days, like my soul' like ok emo- ITS SO FUNNYDIJVBIEAVGAERU I LOVE HIM SM- I love complaining Valentine hes so silly :,) the way he exaggerates everything is so ugh <3333

P4. ngl when I read 'magician' I immediately thought of the ones in circuses with the pulling bunnies out of a top hat kind and I was so confused- and that look on Spelldons face?? bro knew that he's gonna get dragged into some craaaazy shenanigans. I love how Spelldon expresses his emotions through his eyes but Valentine expresses it through body language. Spelldon trying to talk Valentine out of the potion with him defending the idea is so cute like lover's quarrel before the lover's <33

P5. Bro Valentine talks so much his speech bubbles take up half the page lmao- butttttt I am slightly concerned about the bat wings in the back of the store... but thats nothing compared to the skulls and bones?? ig it makes sense since its MH but I'm still cry-laughing about it :,)) idk what the word is (sarcastic or sassy or smth) BUT SPELLDON'S REPLIES R MY FAVOURITE THINGS EVERRRR 'are you doubting my potion-crafting ability?' 'not in biteology' 'you're really good at that' LIKE UGHHHIFUVHBSIETRBI HES SO FIVBEIRUBNVARIE. Not them planning a date while shopping- also wtf is that Elissabat cutout?? what did they do to her :,0000 (the Murktail sign next to it is giving foreshadowing)

P6. AHHHHHH I LOVE THEM ICE SKATING SMMM AND AS ALWAYS SPELLDON IS ROCKING IT WHILE VALS JUST TRYING TO SURVIVE FJVAEIFVBIEUR HAHAHAHA but you know what's better??? VALENTINE FALLS AND THEY FALL TOGETHERRRRR AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THEY MAKE ME SO SICK I LOVE THEM SM- FIVJBARI first time we see Spelldon lose his cool like damn- WITH THE FIREWORKS TOO AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (Spelldon I see your hand hovering over Valentine, its okay ;))!!!!! I love the layout for this page and P7 sm its so fun to look at and theres so much colours!! and the implication that Val and Spell went 'borrowing' the guy's 'authentic himalayan ice malt' is so SCDFVGBNHJMK AND THAT LOOK THEY GAVE EACH OTHER ORIHVNSIERBNG

P7. NOT THEM FLIRTING AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THEY MAKE ME WANNA KMS THEYRE SO SWEET- AND VALENTINES PULLING OUT THE FULL NAME- 'you take me to the nicest places, Spelldon Cauldronello' with that U-U face and that clasped hands okay I see you Val, I see you. Favourite thing from this page? def the expectation vs reality chibi, ITS SO CUTEEEEE SPELLDON WANTING TO PROTECT VALENTINE MAKES ME ASCEND TO HEAVEN AND VALENTINE WORRYING OVER SPELLDON IRL TAKES ME THERE- Spelldon confirming that Valentine's accent is bad is so real bro when I watched the movie for the first time I was like '...he's southern??' BUT, THAT LINE 'you don;t do it with me' IS SO SXCDVFGBNHJM like Mr Cauldronello are you jealous?? its okay you can tell me <33 Valentine thinking a fake southern accent made him cooler and added to his ~mystique~ is so SDCFVGB hes so silly :,)) (I thought they forgot to draw Valentine's irises in the scene after bc I didn't realise he was looking up lmao)

P8. Valentine trying to diverge the convosation is so real bro like dw Spelldon knows you don't actually want to make all your emotions go poof, BUT ITS STILL SUCH A CUTE SCENE LIKE HES FINALLY COME TO THE REALISATION THAT LOVE ISNT ALL THAT BAD- crying :,) and when he started to explain how he likes hanging out w Spelldon, how he's glad that what happened happened, and the 'maybe I don't want to give that up yet' UGHHHHHHH MY HEART LEGIT FLUTTERED DCFVGBHNJM AND IT WAS SUCH A HEARTFELT SCENE AND I SCREAMED SO LOUD INTERNALLY and then Spelldon drinks it lmao- like yes! have your future bf worry for a few seconds before going haha jk! love it Spelldon's so CDVFGBNH i love him sm :,))

P9. 'you really think I was going to let you excise your emotions like that?' SPELLDON I LOVE YOU- THATS SUCH A COOL LINE BRO IXJNIJFVNSIUFVBNJDFC and then he hits Val with the 'someone you cared about' line LIKE THEY MAKE ME FEEL SO SINGLE IM HURT- SPELLDON BASICALLY ADMITTED THAT HE CARES ABT VALENTINE AND YES IT WAS OBVIOUS BUT THERES JUST SOMETHING ABT SAYING IT THAT JUST HITS DIFFERENT YKNOW?? ugh I need Spelltine to be my new heart I dont want my human heart anymore :,0. AND THE WAY VALENTINE GRABBED SPELLDON'S SHIRT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH the way they looked at each other and the confession of feelings and everything and OH MY GODS THE 'maybe we can make sure it's not working...?' GODS, GODS, GODS- WE?? THE SLIGHT HESITATION?? THE FACES ONLY 10 CM AWAY FROM EACH OTHER??? your honor, they kissed. FUCK- CAN YOU TELL THAT I LOVE THIS PAGE?? THEYRE SO SWEET- KMS-

P10. THE. HAND. GRAB. gosh I can't deal with them- VALENTINE TAKING SPELLDON'S HAND WITH BOTH HIS HANDS IM SICKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK THEYRE SO SWEET- AND SPELLDON STILL HAS THE ROSE FROM VALENTINESERXDTFCYGUH oh lords they're everything- AND SPELLDON LOOKS AT VALENTINE WITH SUCH SOFT EYES WHEN WILL I HAVE WHAT THEY HAVE?? 'hmm somethings different about you, kieran valentine', Draculaura, he's come to terms with his emotions, he's made peace with the past and present, hes got an amazing bf, hes finally got that happiness, yep, very different :,DDDD

I love this so much it's the perfect ending, PERFECT. I literally can't even describe how much I love it with the 'and stop holding your hand?', the entire 'well i uh think it'll be cool if you met her- if you wanna thay is' text and EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING IS PERFECTION. ABSOLUTE P E R F E C T I O N. AND THE WAY VALENTINE LEANS AGAINST SPELLDON AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHO NEEDS THERAPY WHEN YOU'VE GOT THIS???? AND SPELLDON BLUSHING IS SO CUTEEEEEE THEYRE SO CUTEE gods I need help-

summary: they are so damn sweet, the comic layout is so good, the emotions was perfect, everything is perfect, I'm gonna die from happiness overload, I feel like a proud mother seeing them finally be together its WSERDTFGYUH if i die and im not holding this under my crossed arms then im not dying fr

thank u for the ask!!

[mayasdeluca]

I love Stefania but I have no interest in watching/listening that podcast. Any chance you’ll do a recap of the highlights?

Sure...I just finished watching so this is what I took from it:

Says that it’s starting to sink in that it’s the series finale but also feels like they’re on hiatus and that when they’re supposed to go back in July that’s when it will probably really sink in.

They were supposed to film this podcast episode while they were still filming the finale but it was too hectic with them filming overnights and such. 

After long days of interacting with people all day long she needs time to just be alone and recharge/watches Friends to wind down. 

Stefania eats a lot of sweets on set (chocolate donuts) and then they started talking about broccoli for like 5 minutes because Stefania said she loves to eat broccoli and kale and healthier things when she travels because she’s eating all the sweet stuff on set lol

She said she’s not a good cook and didn’t inherit a cooking gene and only does it out of necessity.

Talks about transitioning from dance to acting and says that one day she just felt she was done and she loved dance, it was a great relationship but she’s ready to move on. 

She started dancing when she was six because there was this drawing competition in school and the winner got free dancing lessons for a year and she drew a ballerina and won. Did ballet first but was bored and picked it up years later and did more modern jazz type dance. 

A good portion is then spent of Gaby and Stefania speaking in italian because Gaby lived there for a while. They start to talk about an Italian tv show. 

Jaina and Gaby pointed out that Stefania looks so comfortable speaking in Italian and so herself but Stefania said when she’s acting in Italian, she’s not comfortable and prefers to act speaking English because she has an accent with every language she speaks and she has a different inflection now when speaking Italian while acting. 

North Africa is somewhere she wants to check off on her bucket list.

She prefers the grainy look to film/tv/photo and doesn’t like HD. Film makes it more poetic, dreamy, special. 

Her digital camera she carries around is from the 90’s so the quality isn’t as sharp as pictures are today. 

She talked about her episode that she directed and a lot of her ideas went hand in hand with the script like the scene where everybody was angry and so they then slammed the doors and create the rhythm to create more drama. 

She talked about Zita Sempri and the meaning of ‘always a girlfriend, never a wife’ and how her mom taught her to always keep the freshness of when you’re first dating someone and to never give up your dreams/prioritize others before your own like women tend to do especially once getting into a marriage and that's something especially known for women to do in Sicily.

She says Jeff is super sweet with humans but loves to be the alpha with other dogs and gets aggressive and shows dominance when it comes to her stuff: food, treats, etc. 

Biggest fears: losing loved ones, losing her health/getting injured. Then talks about how she booked Grey’s two days after she was in acting class crying about her accent thinking it was too limited and she wouldn’t get a juicy role. And the minute they got told Station 19 was cancelled, all the fears she had about her accent came back that she will never book a role again.  (ABC count your days for this)

They talk about the difference in fashion/style in Italy compared to the US and Stefania says she has a different closet for clothes she wears in Italy and it’s much more structured/fancy as opposed to when she’s in LA wearing t-shirt/jeans.

They talked about how social media makes everything feel more aware and rigid and like there’s a filter and you have to be careful what you post not to upset anyone and constantly have to edit and you’re less free, authentic, less yourself. 

Stuck on an island and you could have three things: pizza, Jeff, something to drink (she mentioned bringing a water fountain lol)

Something people don’t know about her: she’s shy/reserved. It takes a while for her to open up to someone but once she does she’s more outgoing. She feels like a burden when opening up to someone so she has to make sure it will be well received/feels comfortable doing so.

What she’ll miss the most from Station 19: the people - cast, crew, human connection

What are you excited for in this next chapter? Not to talk about IVF and excited to talk about more stuff that’s more authentically in line with more of what her taste is and has become throughout the years. It has been incredible to play Carina and talk about the baby storyline and the struggles of it but she’s excited to tackle other things that are more true to her. She doesn’t want to have kids and for the past 3 years she has played a character who is desperate to have kids and she said it was beautiful because it was fun to connect with this different version of her and great to act out but she’s excited to act out some things that she does care about. 

She’s working on some kind of story as a director but didn’t want to say to much about it and jinx it. 

She took a pair of Carina’s pants from set but said she should have taken Carina’s lab coat. 

Most difficult scene to shoot - Andrew’s death. Emotionally tolling, a lot of crying, exhausting. 

If she could be in any tv show airing right now what would it be? My Brilliant Friend (Italian show) and she would have loved to be in the movie 7 pounds

She tends to lean more towards drama but would love to do comedy things as well. They talk about how she can pretty much cry on cue and can just think about all the shitty things that have happened to her and it comes instantly. She does a lot of emotional scenes/has to cry a lot. 

Espresso or English Tea? Espresso

Sicily Beaches or Hollywood Hills? Sicily beaches

Art museums or Theme parks on a day off? Art museums 

Dinner at home or Dinner out? Out

Gelato in Milano or Fish and Chips in London? Gelato 

Pizza or Pasta? Pizza on pasta

Tennis or PIckleball? Tennis

Travel to the past or future? The present

Saving lives in the ER or on the field with firefighters? ER

Station 19 or Grey’s Anatomy? no answer

She’s on Instagram and off Twitter for good, her therapist told her to. (And that’s literally all that was said about that and then it ended)

[ihateapbiology]

good news

(Help this feels like the 1D fanfics 😭😭😭😭 but just roll with it lol.)

also kinda tw- kinda like some thoughts on religion/homophobia

You joked with your friends that your ex girlfriend had broken up with you two weeks before you were seeing Julien Baker to give you the “authentic experience.” You wouldn’t call yourself a super fan, you had found her through boygenius and just really connected with her music. Unfortunately you had been connecting a little too much with her music since your ex girlfriend had “realized she wasn’t queer” and that “God was calling her away from you.” You didn’t even feel mad just so sad. So you were ready to cry. You and your closest friends scanned in your tickets and meandered your ways to your seats. You were super close. You had wanted to look nice in case one of your friends wanted to post abt the concert and if your ex saw it…you wanted to look like you didn’t want to rot in bed. The concert was everything and more than you could’ve hoped for. Each chord resonated deeply within you, the lyrics hitting close to home. Her voice was raw, filled with an emotion that seemed to echo your own pain. Tears welled up in your eyes as you let the music wash over you. As you were crying you felt more emotions than you had let yourself feel in a while, your ex breaking up with you had unearthed some of your own religious wounds. Then you felt eyes on you, not one of your friends, you were mortified when you realized Julien was looking down at you. You briefly made eye contact before you looked away fast. The concert drew to a close and you and your friends started filing out. You quickly let them know you were heading to the bathroom.

The tears you had held back during the performance now flowed freely, a silent release of all the hurt you had been carrying, not worrying about how your friends would think.

“Hey,” a gentle voice broke through your sobs. You looked up, surprised to see Julien standing there, concern etched on her face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just stubbed my toe really hard” you lie still sobbing.

She smiled a bit and walked next to you and sat. “Yeah did you stub your toe in the middle of my concert as well?” She says, making it known that she remembered the rather awkward eye contact you two had made.

“Alright you caught me.” You softly say. “People have said I’m good to talk to. If you want to.” She says.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. She sat down beside you, her presence comforting. You found yourself opening up to her, sharing the pain of your recent breakup and how lost you felt. She listened intently, not interrupting, just offering a supportive presence.

When you finished, Julien placed a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. That..wow that situation literally sounds like what I’d write a song about. I want you to know that no matter what. No matter what a warped preaching of a religion built upon love says you are valid. What your ex did has nothing to do on you, nothing at all, no matter who she was with when she felt this she would’ve broken up with them. Just..allow yourself to feel you know.”

This unleashes more tears “thank you it was just so out of left field you know.”

You guys talk for a bit longer before she has to go finishing cleaning up stuff. “Hey do you live around here?” She asks.

“Yeah.”

“Well if you ever need someone to talk to about this I’m here..” she grabs a sharpie from her pants pocket and writes her number on your hand. “thank you that’s really sweet…you’re really sweet.” You shyly say.

She shrugs “I like helping gorgeous girls” by the look on her face she clearly didn’t mean to say all that much.

However you didn’t register that she had called you gorgeous until 3 hours later as you were watching TV and screamed to your friends.

Now the question remained…would you text that number…

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

Hello there 🙏🫶 I just want to share this rn with you..... 💌 Recently i have developed a crush on a girl. She is so wonderful and we talk every day & i feel so giddy LOL. I don't even know her face😭 I am so unsure over alot of things & it is both mortifying & exhilarating to experience .. & thats the fun if it..omg.. recently i feel like so many friends are having crushes i wonde r your thoughts on this..

also i forgot how to flirt entirely so i dnt even know if its noticeable to her at all that im interested that way since i havent been bold enough LOL any advice on signaling this to her is appreciated i feel like13 again likeso clumsy LOL its so exciting too omg wishing you a beautiful day when u reaD this i hope it;s fine to send this to u i know u like your inbox used as a confessional but i'm still shy HAHA

🙏🌞🫶🫧🌈

AWWW💞💞💞 happy for u Anon :]....Ues it seems lately many people have been finding new love, i noticed it too the past few weeks :o I've only had that feeling a handful of times over my life, its a special one cus it can be quite fleeting depending on how fast things move, treasure it🌟 altho W/ me and slimbo it lasted ages so by the end of it when we finally confessed love i was FRIED from haveing butterflies in my stomach for so long lol i was losing my marbles over it. anywyas--

Honeslty im BAD at flirting like. i have noooo idea how to make a move , slimbo n i both tried to keep it .pokerface. for years because we're like, i dont even know, we're stupid we were almost enemies for a while. there was a timespan where we were SOOOO competitive and whenever we tried to play games we'd fight so much and i'd end up crying LMAO im laugjing so hard typing this cus we're not even like that now. Like as soon as we got together we became the ultimate harmonious team of considerate affectionate lovers but the courting phase was such a trainwreck lmao. i love it like its beautiful it all worked out, but yeah i suck at flirting i am swagless in that position🧎‍♀️

Altho when it's irl i definitely at least try to Thot it Up, concoct minxy outfits , move in a charming way, one of my most successful tactics has been attempting to orchestrate accidental voyeuristic scenarios for them to catch in their peripherals lol. but you have to be reeeeally subtle to pull that one off ;] i guess mostly i just try to talk to them a lot !! and be thouggtful. send telepathic uncondtional love. SHOW THEM SONGS!!!!!!! if its an internet thing, maybe u can watch movies or youtube videos together. be inquisitive and ask her lots of questions ^_^ one thing that always drew me to slimbo is how curious they are and their #intellect.. But everyones different so just feel it out day by day thru communication💓💓💓

hhope that helpes in some way.. its ok to feel giddy and clumsy im sure ur crush just wants to get to know the most authentic -you- so dont stress too much about specifics ^u^ Enjoy your weekend love ~ ~ ~ P.M.d.9

[dailykoreanpop]

ATEEZ show goes on at Citi Field despite delay caused by thunderstorms

South Korean all-stars ATEEZ hit a home run at Citi Field Saturday night with a showstopping performance that neither rain, lightning, nor extreme heat could stop them from electrifying the arena.

The forecast for Aug. 3 seemed grim for ATEEZ fans—affectionately known as ATINY—as foreboding rainclouds and the rumble of thunder encroached upon the home of the Mets. Inspired by the group’s music videos, thousands of ATINY dressed in cowboy hats, pirate suits, and even pinned fake money to themselves while braving both the extreme heat and periodic downpours. At one point the faithful were even forced to take shelter beneath the 7-train station’s overpass amidst a particularly heavy deluge – still, their dedication never wavered. 

Tolkitea, 30, huddled outside of Citi Field fanning themself, unable to get up from the sidewalk under the pressure of the severe temperature and humidity. However, the thick almost unbearable air did not wipe the pure elation from the New England native’s flushed face when they talked about ATEEZ and what they mean to them.  

“They are so authentic about who they are…They are community and inspiration to me. I hadn’t drawn for years. I went to art school, and I got art burnout and then went into the corporate world, and it sucks away your soul. And you think wow maybe I don’t want to do what I love again, and then ATEEZ went on tour, and I started to draw again making freebies [for other fans,]” Tolkitea said, crediting ATEEZ for igniting their artistic spark once again. 

The day started off with an eventful afternoon block party that began with blue skies and sunshine as Mr. and Mrs. Met showed off their best “Crazy form” outside of the stadium, along with supporters distributing their artwork, fan-made freebees, trading photocards, and filming dance challenges. Nevertheless, as the time drew closer to the stadium opening its doors (6 p.m.), ominous rain clouds unleashed a downpour that delayed the concert for about two hours. 

ATINY’s sheer dedication to ATEEZ rivaled that of a United States Postal worker neither buckets of rainfall nor the extreme heat deterred them from seeing their favorite band. They grabbed garbage bags, huddled under umbrellas, and took shelter beneath clothing and small alcoves as they awaited the fate of their concert to be announced by Citi Field representatives. 

Drenched in a combination of sweat and rain, the fans spirits would not dampen as they sang and chanted ATEEZ’s name until at 9:30 p.m., when the thunder ceased, and music began to blare from the speakers preparing a jam-packed stadium for an unforgettable night. 

Rising from the water-slicked stage in a cloud of smoke, the eight members of ATEEZ (housed by 

KQ Entertainment) HONGJOONG, SEONGHWA, YUNHO, YEOSANG, SAN, MINGI, WOOYOUNG and JONGHO stepped onto the stage taking in the sight of thousands of adoring supporters waving their glowing light sticks for the second stadium performance in the United States.

“New York thank you so much for waiting so long. A little rain can’t stop us,” HONGJOONG, ATEEZ’s Captain, said. 

Perhaps it was the long wait in extreme weather conditions, but many of ATINY let out tears and shouts of joy as ATEEZ rode on the stage like true “Pirate Kings.” 

Emotions were running high for the members of ATEEZ as well, as SEONGHWA shared a heartfelt speech about how precious life after the passing of his grandparents. 

“I used to think our time was eternal. I have believed in moments that will be remembered far away than eternity. But through a few goodbyes, I’ve learned that life isn’t forever. Saying this because we still have time. So, this life is too precious. So don’t live a life of hating and jealousy on each other Take care and love one another. Don’t save the word I love you…To let go of the sorrows, to cry when I have to, I will walk and wake up no matter what pain I get, I’m going to save myself. I desperately hope that you all become a star in someone. I can do it. You are already my stars,” SEONGHWA said. 

Twenty-seven-year-old Wanya Beeks shared that this raw honesty and encouragement are what helped her through suicide and depression. Pushing her walker aside, Beeks spoke candidly on ATEEZ’s ability to connect with fans while also sharing the pain they have experienced. She even went as far as to say they saved her life. 

“ATEEZ for me is like a whole different galaxy. They are my earth, my kings, my family, the loves of my life,” Beeks said. “I’ve been dealing with depression and suicide thoughts since I was in first grade. ATEEZ made the song ‘Sunrise’ and it brought me out of my depression. I have really bad anxiety too, so any time I feel that I play ‘Sunrise’ and it helps me. It motivates me to love myself and to feel better about the things that I love.” 

“It’s very inspiring to see just a different group come together and make such beautiful music,” Beeks added. 

ATEEZ has set the bar high, not just for K-Pop artists, but the music industry as a whole.  Since their debut in 2018, they have released chart-topping albums, won numerous awards, became the first K-Pop male group to perform at Coachella, and now have performed in several United States stadiums. 

These history makers inspire Malaya Salcedo, an Asian woman struggling to make a name for herself in the art industry. Salcedo says their success is one for the Asian community and emphasizes that representation matters. 

“Their music grounded me and made it easier when I just got back from studying abroad and everything was just happening so fast. It was comfort and it was a sense of home,” Salcedo said. “I am a painter and seeing their representation and break the glass ceiling over and over again and making sure it’s representative no matter what industry they work in, it’s inspiring to see. I want to aim more because they didn’t stop when people said [ATEEZ] couldn’t do it.”

That passion and determination that so many love about ATEEZ was on full display Saturday night. Perhaps it was a combination of frustration with the storm, appreciation to perform in another stadium, but the level of intensity and fierceness was at an all-time high for the young men. 

Before the stroke of midnight, due to city rules, the fair princes of pop were forced to bid fans farewell, closing the evening with thunderous applause and a spectacular firework display. 

ATEEZ has only two shows on their world tour in the United States: Chicago on Aug. 10 and 11. 

Credit: amny

[ryuichirou]

I've been lurking for quite a while now and haven't sent asks to literally anyone in years... but I just wanted to tell you how much I looove the way you draw Azul! Confidence fits him so much better than being the self-conscious, embarrassed mess other people depict him as. So many people seem to forget that there's much more to him!

Anooon, thank you so much for appreciating our Azul!! We also really love when he is confident and smug, sometimes we joke that for Azul to look like his authentic Azul self, he needs to have a very punchable face…

Pretty much the first thing Katsu and I learned about Azul was that he is an unhinged control-freak who could spend a week trying to train himself to throw a dice a certain way because he refuses to accept that he can’t control luck. It’s super fun to play around with this side of his, because he is like Disney villain level (lol) of unhinged at times, he’ll go extra mile and then some more for the weirdest reasons.

And even though he hides some insecurities somewhere deep inside his rotten smug soul, I really don’t like it when people boil him down to the way you’ve described. He is confident, because he is hardworking enough to know that he’s done everything to be flawless; he is smart and cunning and powerful enough to play his cards right; there is no reason for him to be self-conscious when he has all the power in his greedy hands. And most importantly, Azul doesn’t need to be pitied, I feel like this is the treatment he would be quite uncomfortable with.

I think it would be fair to assume that this vision of Azul (“always self-conscious embarrassed mess”) comes from his chapter, in which he had a huge emotional breakdown. We absolutely loved this scene and his entire overblot sequence, it’s one of our favourites, but I think it’s important to remember that this wasn’t a typical situation for Azul. He got hit in the most sensitive spot, got pretty much his entire life ruined (at least this is what it felt like to him), so of course he mentally went back to that state he was in when he was a helpless child: the thing that used to protect him that he’d built over the years was destroyed. Leona and Ruggie were both shocked to see him becoming a hysterical crybaby in an instant, and everyone agreed that Leona went too far. What I’m trying to say is that while it was authentically Azul, it wasn’t typical for Azul, and nothing even remotely close to that situation has ever happened again.

Of course, Azul is cautious, protective of his genuine self and doesn’t trust anyone. And we love sensitive Azul a lot, I drew and posted him crying at least once, but it’s like… This side of him is especially good because usually he isn’t like that; usually he is manipulative, bossy, even cruel and cold-hearted at times. And most importantly, he knows his own worth, so he would never doubt anything he’s worked so hard on, be it his appearance, his magic skills, his business skills, anything. So yes, he is confident.

Sorry, Anon, I guess I have a lot to say about this topic… Thank you again for sending this ask, sharing your opinion and loving our Azul!

Have a great day!

[bustybritish]

Lucy's Unconventional Wonderland

Lucy, a vivacious British woman in her late thirties, was no stranger to the world of swinging. In her small corner of the Cotswolds, she was known for her magnetic charm and infectious enthusiasm. Lucy, however, possessed a secret that none of her friends or neighbors could have imagined - her love for being one of the Real UK Swingers.

The story of Lucy's affinity for this unconventional lifestyle started at a time when she was navigating the complex realm of relationships. After a few heartbreaks and a failed marriage, she found herself yearning for something different. It was during one of her solo travels to London that she stumbled upon a swinging club, "The Velvet Chamber."

Curiosity led her inside, and from the moment she stepped into the dimly lit establishment, she felt a certain electricity in the air, a palpable aura of excitement and liberation that seemed to beckon her. The club, with its plush furnishings and sensuous ambiance, was a far cry from the quaint and picturesque village life she was accustomed to.

As she explored the club, Lucy found herself in the company of open-minded, non-judgmental individuals. The club was a place where people could be themselves, explore their desires, and embrace the freedom to express their sexuality without fear of condemnation. It was, in Lucy's view, a haven for those who sought a different kind of connection.

The swinging lifestyle, as she soon discovered, was more than just about sexual encounters; it was about forging meaningful connections and relationships that went beyond the physical. Lucy met individuals who were articulate, intelligent, and eager to engage in thoughtful conversations about relationships, desires, and boundaries.

One evening, while sipping a cocktail at the club's bar, Lucy met Mark and Sarah, a charming couple who were the embodiment of warmth and charisma. Their story of how they'd navigated the swinging world together piqued her interest.

Mark and Sarah had been married for a decade and credited the swinging lifestyle with rejuvenating their relationship. What fascinated Lucy was the deep level of trust and communication they had developed through their experiences. They emphasized the importance of setting boundaries, constantly checking in with each other, and ensuring that their adventures always remained consensual.

Lucy found herself drawn to the idea of a relationship like Mark and Sarah's – one built on trust, transparency, and a shared sense of adventure. The swinging lifestyle seemed to provide the perfect framework for this kind of connection.

Over the months that followed, Lucy explored her own desires and boundaries. She learned to communicate openly, set clear limits, and engage in experiences that resonated with her on a deeper level. It was in the swinging community that she discovered the true meaning of consent, an essential cornerstone of this lifestyle.

But it wasn't just about the emotional and psychological aspects that drew Lucy in. The physicality of the swinging world, she realized, allowed for a level of sexual exploration and liberation that she had never encountered before. She reveled in the empowerment that came from being in control of her own desires and unapologetically expressing them.

Lucy's friends and neighbors in the Cotswolds were oblivious to her secret life. She knew that her choice to embrace the swinging lifestyle was unconventional, but it felt liberating and empowering. In a world filled with societal expectations, Lucy found her own path to happiness.

Through the swinging community, Lucy met like-minded individuals who celebrated diversity, free expression, and acceptance. She learned that love and connection could manifest in countless forms, and her swinging experiences had given her a profound appreciation for the myriad ways people could bond.

To Lucy, the swinging club was a place where she could be her authentic self, explore her desires, and establish meaningful connections. It wasn't about rebelling against societal norms but about embracing a lifestyle that resonated with her and allowed her to experience relationships on her own terms.

In the heart of the Cotswolds, Lucy led a life that might seem ordinary to her friends and neighbors, but in the dimly lit corners of "The Velvet Chamber" and other swinging clubs, she reveled in the unconventional wonderland that she had found, a place where she felt truly alive. Lucy's story was a testament to the idea that love and connection could be found in unexpected places, and that the path to happiness is often deeply personal and unique.

[midnightsmisery]

Have you ever heard of USE SOMEBODY by Charlie Simpson well, it describes ANDREW "DREW" CERULLI to a tee! the twenty six year old, and LINE COOK AT RICCI'S was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more stoic or more LOYAL instead? anyway, they remind me black coffee, leather bound journals with chicken scratch on every page, the smell of fresh pasta sauce being prepared and the roar of a lion when someone threatens their pride.

Introduction

FULL NAME: Andrew Francis Cerulli

NICKNAME(S): Drew

AGE: Twenty Six

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Male / He

DATE OF BIRTH: December 26th 1996

ZODIAC SIGN: Capricorn

OCCUPATION: Line Cook at Ricci's

SEXUALITY: Straight

Biography

Drew has been described as quiet or shy by just about every person he's ever met. Teachers would often seat him next to the talkative bad students, hoping to break him and force him into any form of socialization. Despite their best efforts, the boy didn't have much to say. He was a low maintenance kind of guy, he was easy to keep assumed and wasn't hard to please. At home there were so many voices going at once and he didn't want to be apart of the noise. With Atlas, Drew and Cole so close in age that usually if one of them needed something, by default all three would get it. Even as small kids if he was hungry or too cold, Cole would be the one to cry and ask for those things. All he had to do was nod when asked if he was too.

As he got older he began to talk more, learning to define himself and his needs apart from his siblings. While he was still more reserved than the other four Cerulli kids, he came out of his shell when he had one on one time with people. He could talk for hours about his fascination with foods from other cultures and the chefs that made them. While you wouldn't guess it from just looking at him, he was a funny guy too. He cracked jokes and teased the ones he was close with. Learning to build connections in a more authentic form for him, rather than in large groups.

His love of food and the cooking industry eventually lead him around parts of Europe from the time he was twenty until he was twenty four. Learning the craft in kitchens of chef's that inspired him and scared him to death. While it wasn't a very financially rewarding career in the beginning, he knew if he could hold out a couple years and perfect his style, he'd make it big. He'd one day own his own restaurant and people would come from around the world to taste his dishes! But until then he had to pay his dues and work his way up the ladder in the kitchen. Even if it meant living with roommates you find online and eating most of your meals at work to cut costs. Drew was all in on this dream and not looking back.

Relationships

coming soon...

[influencermagazineuk]

Liam Gallagher fires back at the fan outrage following Oasis tour lineup announcement: "Everyone is soooo fussy these days"

Liam Gallagher has clapped back at fans who have let the Britpop legends hear their disappointment with their decision to play no young bands as support acts for their highly anticipated reunion tour. The reformed legendary Britpop band has just announced that veteran artist Richard Ashcroft will be the special guest for its 2025 UK and Ireland tour. Ashcroft, the lead singer of the Verve, narrated to us how he feels about the fact, "As a fan from day one, I was buzzing for many reasons when news of Oasis came forth. No exaggeration, my songwriting talent was amened by the pure spirit of a lead vocalist as that of Noel and Liam. It was the perfection of 'Live Forever' that made me try to write my own." Etsai з Japan, CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0, через Вікісховище Indeed, while greeting many ecstatic fans of Oasis and The Verve, not everyone is thrilled with the supporting act handpicked by the band for their reunion tour. There are enough cry outs as the frustrated fans argue that the reunion tour would have been a perfect time to spotlight the emerging artists who later will be in the main stage and give chances to the upcoming young bands. Social media sites are filled with outcries of these frustrated fans who had a say in this, questioning Oasis's proclivity to be nurturing the next generation. Gallager, never one to shy away from a head-on response to criticism, took to X (formerly Twitter) in response to the complaints. In characteristic no-nonsense style, he wrote: "To all the folk who are crying about us not showing love to the young bands and not letting them support, there's LEVELS to this game and I'm afraid 99% of ya are way off." These comments from the former Oasis frontman suggest that most of these newer bands don't quite have it together yet. They are not ready for such a massive tour and all its pressure. He seems to say that there is a point of talent and experience at which one should take on such an opportunity, and that the younger bands haven't even reached that point yet. Everybody's stickling for a piece of the action," Gallagher says bluntly, speaking to a much broader debate in the music industry: how do established acts nurture emerging talent? For some fans, tours with such enormous, sellout crowds as Oasis' reunion are precisely the best way to elevate new talent, while others share with Gallagher the opinion that no band is ready for that kind of megastage. Over the past few years, many superstars have bent over backward to have newer artists on their tours so those younger artists can get a chance to perform in front of massive, established audiences. It is the opinion of Oasis' critics that because of its influence and stature, this is now a good time for the band to pay it forward by supporting the next wave of musicians. However, in statements from Gallagher, one can sense that both he and the band hold differing opinions concerning the matter of how and when they should open doors to such opportunities. That said, it's probably too much to expect that Oasis would change the lineup of its tour following the negative reaction. Many are euphoric at the inclusion of Richard Ashcroft, especially among the '90s Britpop fan, for this is one combination many can only hope for: Oasis and The Verve on a bill at last. The nostalgia alone will see it sell out arenas; for many, going back to witness that era which defined a generation is one good reason to go. And of course, the response to the criticism from Gallagher is also part of his public persona: never one to pander or play nice when it comes to fan expectations. Over the years, an unapologetic attitude meant that he has, on occasion, drew criticism and endeared himself to fans who appreciate his authenticity. His latest comments suggest he's far more interested in putting on a tour that meets his own really high standards than satisfied by appeasing the vocal minority of fans. Though not everyone, of course, will be too pleased about the band's decision to plough on with more geriatric acts, there is little doubt that the Oasis reunion tour will cause quite a stir in 2025. Both old and new fans will fill the arenas in the UK and Ireland in droves to witness one of the most iconic bands over the last few decades and finally make an appearance. Whether or not younger bands get a chance to prove themselves on the Oasis stage, Gallagher's brash reply suggests it's clear the band's sole focus is delivering a tour for the ages on its own terms. Read the full article

[edensblogs]

Get Out

To begin with, this film had it all! I am utterly shocked at how much I genuinely enjoyed the film and Black Horror. The foreshadowing, drama, twists and turns, conflict, horror, and plot twists are insane. Overall, it was so unique and beautiful! 

The film begins with this African American man walking through a neighborhood late at night. Suddenly, he is followed by a white car. He attempts to escape the car, changing his course, yet in a surprise attack, he is kidnapped, choked, and shoved into the back of the car by a masked individual (which we later learn is a part of the Armitage cult). The movie continues, and during the film's last minutes, the film comes full circle! 

I recognized that Andre was the man abducted at the film's beginning and had undergone a "Coagula" operation! Seeing how lifeless he was compared to the film's beginning is so transformative. Andre, like the groundskeeper and Georgina, is an empty vessel. The white family generated a cult-like environment, finding interest in the genetics of African Americans to use them as hosts for the Armitage family. These new beings were props, behaving as robots dressed in "white" suburban attire, and all their uniqueness, culture, and identity were erased. These new beings are dehumanized and stripped of all that is true to themselves. I believe Jordan Peele attempted to symbolize how society often attempts to assimilate all individuals. The dominant white suburban culture has trapped these African Americans and stole their "valuable" and physically superior qualities, such as their eyes, speed, strength, etc., just as modern society picks and chooses what is seen as "normal" or acceptable and frowns on any deviations. White supremacy supports this assimilation, prevents diversity's richness, and generates identical individuals, like Barbie dolls on the shelf. They perform like an expected, sanitized suburban, polished individual, lacking authenticity. 

Andre can only escape this paralyzed and substanceless place when a camera flash meets his eyes. He becomes stunned, blood drips down his nose, and he transforms into a madman, attacking Chris and barking, “Get Out!”  Andre warned Chris to “get out” and leave before it was too late. I feel like so many people want to yell and break free in an oppressive society. I would be exhausted after living in a lie and just wanna yell and let it all out!  In another instance, Georgia attempts to speak to Chris from the inside out. She is quivering, slowly crying, yet smiling and whispering, “No, No, No.” She attempts to break free as the “real” and “fake” Georgina has an internal conflict. 

Another connection I drew was when Rose and Chris traveled to the suburbs to meet her parents, and while on their way, a deer crashed into the side of Rose's car. A deer has many meanings across various cultures; some view a deer as a spirit aminal, strong, compassionate, and grateful. When Chris tells Rose's father about how the deer tragically passed away, he shows no remorse yet is grateful and encourages their distinction as they are simply ruining the ecosystem. This shows a significant character and morality in the father and draws a connection to the plot, as he sees African Americans as mere objects of his discretion. These expandable bodies allow his own twisted family to prosper. On the other hand, deer resemble the supernatural world, identifying with hypnotism and otherworldly aura throughout the film. 

The most riveting aspect of the film was how Rose created this fictitious character for the entirety of the film. Upholding her “girlfriend” role, Rose sympathizes with Chris, listening to and supporting his feelings. She even disapproves of her family's behavior and the displayed microaggressions. Rose successfully distinguishes herself from her family, allowing Chris a haven with her. However, in the end, she reveals herself as a monster. She fools Chris, and the house of horrors is uncovered! Her manipulation lures both women and men into her home to present them to her parents as a gift to carry on their deranged family traditions! I believe James Peele wanted to expose how racism is deeply rooted in our cultures and traditions, allowing it to prosper. Although Rose is believed to be a supportive outlet for Chris, she is tied to her family's values and beliefs. It becomes evident that racism is deeply rooted in the systems of society.

The death of Chris’s mom is brought up throughout the film as it is a highly vulnerable aspect of his life, which leads to significant emotional trauma. Rose's mom prys each detail of the excruciating night out of Chris while she hypnotizes him and weaponizes it against him as he is an easier target to control. She dominates his mind! This symbolizes how marginalized individuals are paralyzed and unable to exert power when overwhelmed by societal constructs and racism.  Chris exposes himself to Rose, describing that he was the reason his mother died. Although she was in a hit-and-run car accident, she was left on the floor until morning, bleeding away until she died the following morning. Chris blames himself for not calling the police, as he failed to take action. This comes full circle as Chris can redeem himself at the film's end. He accidentally hits Georgina with his car and battles internally on whether he should leave her while in danger. Chris surpasses the emotional barrier that has controlled him since childhood, and Rather than selfishly leaving her on the floor to die, he carries her into the car in search of safety. 

I continue to question why the groundkeeper killed himself. This is a question that I am racking my mind to figure out. It could be that when Chris flashed the camera in his eyes, the hypnosis broke, and he realized his situation and could not grapple with his life. Maybe, like Andre, he just wanted to “Get out”! He no longer wanted to host a racist white woman or man! 

I truly enjoyed Rod's character, as he brought a humorous note to the film (but included hidden themes). He goes to the police station to save Chris but is overlooked as foolish. Rather than finding community in another African American, he is mocked, which aggravated me so much (but is understandable because the story was crazy)! Additionally, after Chris escapes the house of horrors and is left in the woods with Rose, a police car arrives. I thought Chris was about to be taken to the station in handcuffs while Rose (a privileged white woman) was free. However, Rod saved the day on a humorous and lively note, softening the film's ending after that violent murder scene! 

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

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.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

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.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[369-destructioniscreation]

Me and Louis Tomlinson

Ahh, it's good to be back. After such a long pause on Tumblr, busy writing other things for other people in other places. I've come back here for a place to put my random thoughts and the shit nobody wants to read anyway. But this is my first post in a long time and I'm starting over from scratch so how many people will read this one is a mystery.

Let’s start with this one. It’s bound to raise some fists in the crowd, and I'm here for it.

It’s March 22, 2023. I'm going to see a movie tonight and I'll be reviewing it in a day or so. Actually a documentary from a guy named Louis Tomlinson. I've been following him for a while, respectfully lurking because I just don't have the energy or the time to fully immerse in the chit chat debates about his love life, assumed to be surreptitiously covered up with his former bandmate Harry Styles. Yeah, I realize that's not what's in the media but I don't believe much of anything in the media. Do you?

I'll start with this because apparently some people think this guy is gay and always has been. He says he's straight in the public eye but honestly I don't care. I’m a straight male through and through but I do think this guy is extremely good looking but that doesn't mean I want to cuff him (although I often reconsider that position) but that's not what drew me to him.

There's always been something about him that's different from every other singer celebrity I follow, and I follow quite a few for writing purposes, but most of them I don't think much about. All part of a breed, cookie cutter and stereotyped that have a singular purpose of one-upping each other for attention. Yeah, I get it. It's a competitive field but come up with something new and interesting because you're boring me. Rubbing your dick on stage or dressing up is fine but give me something more substantial to chew on.

I've always liked Tomlinson. He's more authentic and I'm craving that these days. He was my favorite from that band One Direction. TBH I was never a big fan of boy bands. I'm a little older than those boys and was more into heavy metal and louder chaotic punk alternative. Think Blink, Green Day, Foo Fighters, Stone Roses, The Cure, and even REM,  Soundgarden, and Oasis, a far cry from the pop bands the young girls cried over.

I've noticed a lot of crying (screaming, kicking, fighting) in that fandom and here's one of the reasons and I'm going to give you my perspective. I'm a skeptic until proven as truth. I'm doomed to think logically, scientifically. I need a motive and part of my job is to question.

[windupnamazu]

apples to apples

ffxivwrite2022 #10: channel emulate or seem to be inspired by.

lunya/g'raha and their kids, with several mentions: @nuclearanomaly's ninira; @whitherliliesbloom's illya, eulalie, and ipheion; @fistsoflightning's oki; and @hqmillioncorn's cherrypit. post-canon/future fic. 1293wc. ⮞ they say the mirror apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but g'raha and luneth probably could have done this in a less embarrassing manner.

The double cry of "we're home!" drew some but not all eyes away from the board game the family was gathered around at the entrance hall's coffee table.

Lunya's smile grew at the sight of her twins in the doorway, pulling off backpacks and belt attachments and kicking off their shoes. Their father was distracted, frowning at his dice rolls and muttering beneath his breath as he shifted tokens on his faction card—one of the perils of playing a war game with a competitive Sharlayan and former leader of a city-state—but when Nynya bounced over to press her cheek to his own G'raha was all warmth as he reached up to ruffle her hair.

"Welcome back," Lunya cooed as Nynya gave her her beso next while Luneth followed behind her, greeting G'raha first. The week had been long without them around the house, but they both had the satisfied glow of completing a good adventure. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!" her little spark chirped, plopping onto the floor by her feet and immediately pawing her sister's hand out of the way in the tortilla chip bowl. Chichiro rolled her eyes, swatting back good naturedly before retreating to spoon more salsa on her plate. "We stopped by Tita Nini's place first thing and she gave Luneth this sick new robe!" (What she didn't say was that the three of them then gorged themselves on Ninira's gigantic stash of cookies she'd been saving for them, forcing Estinien to babysit them overnight as they griped about stomach aches and nausea and Luneth's hypoglycemia kicking in.)

"Second-Mama's Boy," Liliru coughed, sticking her tongue out when Luneth scrunched his face at her. The kids were quite fond of their boldly hypocritical proclamations; none of them were shy about having favourites among Lunya and G'raha's extended family of friends, which Lunya had been far too slow to realize in order to stomp it out of any of them early enough.

Linnet dropped her tortilla chip in the guacamole as she looked up, which Colala snatched and stuffed right in her mouth before she could realize she had. "She's right, sick robe, Neth! Wait, where's my chip?"

The "sick robe" in question was a long cape coat made in a deep blue that shimmered like the night, lined with gold embroidery of four-point stars and constellations, silk tassels and crystals hanging from looping chains at his waist. Inside the hood was a lining made from authentic Thavnairian silk, gold and silver brocade shimmering throughout. Luneth flushed at all the sudden attention and sank into the plush ottoman to Nynya's left, though he was clearly overjoyed with their aunt's gift.

"Oh, oh, get a load of this," Nynya faux-whispered conspiratorially, her sisters and mom leaning in closer. "We stumbled on the Leveilleur twins in Mor Dhona, and y'know what Luneth did?"

"Nynya," hissed Luneth, which meant that this story was going to be particularly juicy. He kicked at her ankle and she yelped as she jerked it away, banging her knee on the underside of the table as she did. "Nynya, stop talking."

But Nynya refused. "He climbed the scaffolding above the Find and jumped into the middle of their conversation!!!" Lunya nearly screamed. On her right, G'raha went completely still. "I thought he was gonna break his legs!"

"Did he do a flip?" Chichiro wondered.

"Doubt it," Liliru decided. "In front of Ate Eu? He'd mess up his hair."

"And Mr. Rammbroes doesn't even blink, he just goes, well, if it isn't G'raha's runt! I take it you're interested in Allagan history as well! and Ipheion's staring at Lun like he's grown another head and I thought Eu was going to faint and we'd have to call Tito Al's linkpearl like, hey sorry, my supergenius brother thought he could impress your daughter by giving her a HEART ATTACK—"

"Alphinaud's done worse to show off in front of Liya," Lunya dismissed. "Like the sea urchin incident."

"So he sets us up with a job (yes, Mama, we got paid, I was listening when you told us we can't just do every task for free) to protect this relic that's being targeted by Ilsabardian smugglers, and it turned into this WHOLE THING. Also he said something about the scaffolding in the Find being far too old for the men in our family to keep doing 'that sort of thing' on?"

Luneth and G'raha both seemed to be trying to melt through the furniture as Nynya's story picked up speed.

"—so we gather in the hall BUT THEN," Nynya began to yell all while she was leaping up and down in a bold impression of a younger Lunya or perhaps a frog, "THE GIGAS START BREAKING DOWN THE DOOR, AND YOU KNOW HOW HELPFUL AND RESPONSIBLE OUR LUN IS, RIGHT?"

"Yeaaaah," their sisters chimed in long-suffering unison. Little old ladies loved Luneth as much as their friends complained that their parents were always going on about how they should act more like him.

"HE SLAMS HIS STAFF IN THE GROUND AND HE SAYS—" If the other inhabitants of the house weren't listening in before, they certainly were now, and Lunya thought she caught a flash of her and Luneth's carbuncles zipping after Gyosei through the growing crowd of legs upstairs as Nynya dropped her voice to a pitch more like Luneth's in a rather impressive display of vocal control. "—HEED ME, MY FRIENDS—"

"WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS," Luneth wailed as he jumped to his feet and began to rattle Nynya like a salt shaker. The absurdity of it all was only amplified with their height difference—when Luneth finally hit his growth spurt at fifteen summers he nearly doubled in height and was now a solid ilm taller than G'raha, to the horror of literally everyone else in the house. Admittingly, he was still considered short to the rest of Etheirys, but his mother was a Lalafell. "WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS!!!"

"Indoor voices," Lunya reminded them serenely.

For her ears alone G'raha murmured, "My lodestar," his face red with the trials of enduring second-hand embarrassment and refreshing a memory over two decades old that you were hoping to lose as you approached your 50s, "have pity on our son."

As she always had when he was being silly, Lunya simply reached up and patted his cheek indulgently. "Nah."

"—WE RISE TO UNLIMITED HEIGHTS WHEN WE STAND TOGETHER," Nynya bellowed with a hysterical cackle, voice warbling as Luneth continued to shake her. "TOGETHER, WE CAN ONLY PREVAIL! Eulalie thought this was all very cool, by the way, but Oki thought it would've been better if we threw flower petals while he was making the speech."

"Asdbhfbwngawba," Luneth babbled as he dropped his twin and hid his face in his fancy sleeves.

"Awww, our baby boy's all grown up," Linnet said dotingly. "Look at him, impressing girls."

Chichiro harrumphed. "To think it was just yesterday he was begging us to order his meals for him."

Doing a very terrible attempt at holding back a shit-eating grin, Lunya looked her husband in the eye as she squeezed his knee. "This sounds an awful lot like some of the stunts you pulled when we were younger, Lord Exarch."

G'raha pulled his glasses from his nose so he could bury his face in his hands, making it especially clear which of his parents Luneth got that habit from. "It's… not too late to stop telling them tales…"

"Don't worry, Papa," Liliru said with a patient-yet-remarkably-condescending pat to G'raha's elbow as she offered him a chip, the board game now forgotten completely in between the bowls and plates of that evening's meryenda. "Titito Cherry's already told us all the cringe shit you did when he was a baby."

[52booksproject]

Book 23: The Kiss Quotient

My random letters came up eventually as HO and so I chose The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang. It's a romance novel with the premise that Stella, a woman on the Autism spectrum hires a male prostitute, Michael, to get better at sex, and eventually hires him as a practice boyfriend. Needless to say they fall in love and along the way have crazy good sex.

I really liked the first part of this book. The sex scenes are hot and it's got a decent premise for the will they won't they. I can't say how authentic the portrayal of the main character is (she has the A syndrome that is no longer diagnosed), dunno what experience the author has, but it seemed ok to me.

Unfortunately the book completely just crumbles near the end. The main character is forcibly kissed by a coworker and while she's washing her mouth out later and crying, Michael threatens to beat the shit out of him. Stella begs him not to, seeing as how the guy is a co-worker and a family friend, not to mention that would land Michael in jail no matter how much the co-worker deserved it. So he immediately starts accusing her of liking the kiss and getting crazy jealous. Ok, EWWWWWW, she just got assaulted- she's fucking washing her mouth out- and he's got a rage boner and he pressures her to kiss and then have sex with him to get out his feelings of jealousy. No! Bad boyfriend! *sprays spraybottle at him* If anyone ever tries to pull this crap, and they're not a Meta Magic Bard Bad Boy Parasaurolophus, run!

The book limps to the end after that, but of course it's completely ruined. But if it hadn't had that really disgusting part it would have been pretty good.

BEST LINE: "Am I sitting on your cum cushions?"

SHOULD YOU READ THIS BOOK? I'd say no. The grossout behavior is really too much. I wouldn't dis-recommend the author though, assuming this bad boyfriend was a one off. She writes well and the book was otherwise interesting.

ART PROJECT:

The "hero" Michael is supposed to look like K-Drama star Daniel Henney, who you may know as Lan from Wheel of Time. So I drew him and what I presume his reaction to getting compared to this dickweed character would be.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Drawing | Colson Baker

Requested? Yup! I hope you like it :) @bakerkells

Warnings? None 

Summary: Ever since knowing Colson Baker, you’ve always had an affinity for drawing him 

Word Count: 1,245

You sit relaxed, legs extended in front of you with your worn sketchpad propped on your legs. Music plays in the background, your Apple Music playlist displaying random songs. Your hand works mindlessly, sketching lightly over the already messy page and casting a glance up at the sunset you're trying to recreate.

"Baby!" you hear Colson call out as you continue to draw.

Your boyfriend comes bounding into the room, a wide smile spread across his lips. He heads over to you, collapsing into the seat next to you and tilting his head to see what you're drawing. You continue to sketch as Colson slides an arm around your waist and you lean into his touch.

"Whatcha drawing?" he asks, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"Sunset,” you murmur and he hums in response.

You had been drawing practically your entire life. You had started young, doodling along the sides of notebooks during class, drawing on the back of tests and all over binders. It became a habit to make everything personalized with a touch of your drawing. 

Over time your skills improved and you continued to draw and eventually paint as you fell in love with the art. You drew and painted anything before you, loving putting your own spin on anything. 

When you moved to Los Angeles, your inspiration only grew. You and your best friend had planned for years to move out of your small town to the city of angels ever since your obsession with movies started. You both wanted to see where it's all created and add to the magic. Your best friend wanted to be an actress while you wanted to display your art.

One day you had been sitting at Starbucks with your best friend, zoning slightly as she talked excitedly about her new project for what seemed like the millionth time. As you look out at the people around you, a boy catches your eye.

He's waiting in line, phone in right hand while his left arm wraps around himself. Your eyes trail over his features a sharp jawline accompanies sharp blue eyes, and a tiny double x tattoo decorates just below his ear.

You instinctively pull a napkin towards you, grabbing the pen you keep in your hair you begin to sketch the boy. Memorizing each detail your hand works faster than your eyes trail and before you know it, a rough sketch of the blonde decorates the Starbucks napkin.

“Who is that?” your best friend asks, her eyes trained on the napkin.

“Oh, uh-“ you begin but your best friend is already looking around the small shop. 

She spots the boy still waiting in line, and a devious smile forms upon her lips. She grabs your pen from the table starting to write something on the napkin but hiding it from your eyes.

“I'll be back,” she says, shooting you a wink before grabbing the napkin and getting up.

You watch as she marches straight up to the boy and begins talking to him. You're horrified as she hands him the napkin, and gestures back to you. He glances back to you, a smile ghosting his lips as he looks at you before turning back to your best friend. They exchange a few words before she heads back over to you.

"What did you do?” you ask when she sits back down.

"Gave him your number," she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You're fucking crazy."

“And you’re talented. Can we go?” 

Shortly after you leave, a text pops up on your phone and you stop in your tracks. Your best friend gives you a curious look and you smile widely as you read the text.

“A little creepy, but flattering nonetheless thanks for the portrait,” it reads and you’re flushed from head to toe at this point. 

“Does someone have a crush already?” your best friend jokes. 

“Shut it.” 

That was how you met your boyfriend Colson Baker. You had always had an affinity for sketching strangers, you loved catching their natural gaze and stature. It was authentic and beautiful and something you liked to keep for your sketchbook. 

However, you had never given any of your sketches to the people you drew. You were beyond grateful for your best friend stepping in that day. Ever since, you and Colson were inseparable and later fell for each other.

Two years later, you hadn't stopped drawing Colson. Falling head over heels for the man of your dreams only made you more enchanted by him. You swore you found a new detail to love and engrave in your sketches every time you looked at the love of your life. 

From studio sketches, to dinners out, to random late nights together, you had what felt like hundreds of sketches of Col in your notebook. It became second nature to you, and you were surprised that Colson didn’t know that you always ended up sketching him. 

Colson leans his head on your shoulder as you continue to sketch. His hand rests on your thigh, tracing patterns against the exposed skin. You're distracted as he moves his hand farther up and you stop drawing altogether.

"Colson,” you whine and the older boy smiles mischievously.

He pulls your sketchbook from your hands and tosses it onto the coffee table forgotten for the moment. His hand slides up to your cheek and he pulls you in with ease as your lips meet his. You turn to meet him and his arm circles your waist pulling you into him.

You end up in his lap, legs swung over his as you sink into his touch. You're flush against each other as his hand travels from your cheek to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. As you let go for air, you're smiling at Col and he leans his forehead on yours.

“What’s that?” Colson asks and you sit up straighter giving him a confused look.

His eyes trail to your sketchbook that ended up on a page that you sketched Colson on. It was your favorite sketch of your boyfriend you had ever drawn. He was hunched over the soundboard scribbling notes and lyrics most likely for the new album.

Colson picks up the drawing with care, and you watch as his eyes trail over it. A smile breaks wide over his lips and you grow nervous as he continues to scan the sketch.

“You drew this?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Uhm yeah, when you were writing bloody valentine I think.” 

“Baby you make me look good,” he says and you laugh lightly.

“Darling, that's what you always look like to me. No one else catches my eye like you do.”

Colson looks up at you with the most endearing look in his eye that almost makes you cry. You recognize the look in his eye, it's the same one you have when drawing him. It radiates love and the most adoring energy.

“Have you been drawing me ever since we met?” he asks, now flipping through the rest of your sketchbook, a gleam in his eye. 

“Pretty much yeah,” you admit and Colson smiles again. 

“Well I’ve been writing songs about you since we met so I guess we’re even,” he says and you giggle quietly.

He pulls you in again, dropping your sketchbook once more to wrap his arms completely around you and soak up the love from the two of you.