#grief is surely the most powerful tool to make an existing love stronger than before

[domestictetsurou]

caleb girlies, hear me out... idk about you, but is this how it feels like to finally have a true main LI??

i didn't have any interest for the other LIs at first, but then chapter 4 came... and instantly, caleb was my first love. (as u can see from my username, i'm weak for guys with big domestic energy 🥺)

but then they blew him up. i cried. i grieved him. i continued going forward but i found myself keep rewatching chapter 4 over and over again (i've probably done it hundreds of times by now).... i missed him. i missed him so much, so often, it sometimes feel miserable. only able to hold onto scraps infold provided of him (1 chapter, 1 call, short message...). relying to fanfics and fanarts for comfort... because what else do we have of him?

but now he's here… he's back... we're gonna have more of him.... and i guess the months (almost a year) worth of grief exploded inside me??

i seriously can't think about anything else. the live announcement came with heaps of info but i don't care about everything else. i just want caleb to come home soon.

i want to know his story... how he survived, what happened to his arm, what's with that sad room and his nightmare and the gloomy environment and the holding onto the necklace? (i want to comfort him, the trailer was so heartbreaking 😭)

i want to soon unlock our memories, all the 5⭐ and 4⭐ cards to come, i want them all…. i wonder what experiences we'll gonna have with him...? will we have lots of domestic moments? (i hope we do) and OUR PAST LIVES? i want to know our past lives so i'd understand his perspective and i'll make sure to love him more afterwards 😭

does he still have that kindhearted, caring, doting, reliable older brotherly figure inside of him? will he show it to us in the main story? or will it be full on villainous and angsty? how is he living his life now? does he even feel "alive"...?

this is crazy... i yearn for him so much i have dreamed of him for 2 days straight by now… 😭😭😭 and i think i get why infold released the trailer on friday night. THEY WANT US TO THINK AND GUSH ABOUT HIM NONSTOP IN THE WEEKENDS DON'T THEY??!?! 😭😭😭😭 they know i wouldn't be able to function if they released him on weekdays. 😔

so... is this how it feels like to have your main LI alive? i'm sorry my other guys, but all my attention goes to caleb now. i don't even know why, i just have no interest to even unlock the other LIs upcoming FREE cards, all i need is just caleb and caleb and caleb..... 😭😭😭

[deangendered]

18, 25 and 27 for the ask game!!

18. Ideally, what season would have Dean and Cas gotten together?

Hmmm that’s a tough one. Okay. Early s12. Season 12 has a weird (but very fun) bickering married couple vibe from the beginning with absolutely no explanation. I would like it to have an explanation. Here it is:

I’m not touching the reunion hug in front of Mary because that scene is gold. But at some point after that, Dean & Cas get sent to an alternate universe/time and have to work together to get back. For some reason this takes them 5 years. In that time, they get together, have their honeymoon phase, and progress gracefully into the old married couple we see in s12. They return to the time and place they disappeared from, so the season progresses as in canon except Dean backs Cas’s play wrt Kelly and Jack, Cas doesn’t die in 12x23, they raise Jack together, and the rest of the show is full of love and domesticity and all the tension comes from outside threats that they face as a team :)

(P.S. I stopped watching/left the fandom right before s11 so idk how people reacted to the abrupt s12 deancas vibe shift at the time. Would love to know about that if anyone reading this was here then.)

25. Endgame human!Cas or angel!Cas?

Yes thank you I was hoping someone would ask this because I have Thoughts!! Human!Cas endgame, 100%. Post-s15, because I do like angel!Cas initially raising Jack (whether Jack is his canon Just A Guy self or a baby, but especially in versions where he’s a baby). But after a couple years of raising a nephilim and once TFW stops hunting so frequently, I think Cas would be happiest as a human. Here’s why:

He’s always admired humanity and wanted to be more like humans, so I think he’d gladly become human again as long as he knew he’d be supported and it wouldn’t be as miserable as the first time.

He’d make more friends since he'd have to do human things and wouldn’t be busy with supernatural/celestial business all the time. That would be good for him.

Losing his powers would help him focus more on himself and what he wants rather than how he can help the Winchesters.

Sensations! PB&J! Sex! Stronger emotions felt bodily!

Growing old with Dean :’)

If he’s going to spend the vast majority of his time on Earth anyway, it’d be nice to see him feel at home in/connect with his body. He’s a very agender mood rn with how he doesn’t give a fuck and ignores his vessel/body for the most part, but tbh that’s not a great way to live, and it would be nice if he could interact with the world he lives in through a form that’s actually his and that he feels comfortable in rather than having a true form constantly crammed into a vessel. (Yes, it’s more his body than Jimmy’s by now, but it’s still a human form containing an angel, and Cas’s sensations felt through that vessel are muted at best. It’s a thing he owns, it’s a tool he’s wielding. It’s not really a part of him unless he exists in it as a human.) That would also allow him to feel more connected to the world and others that exist on the Earthly plane since he’ll be experiencing it/them more directly. When in Rome...

He’d be able to relate to other humans’ experiences and feelings better. Since he’s in love with one, I think that’d be a priority for him.

27. Which would you rather have addressed in canon: Cas killing countless copies of Dean or Dean's grief each time Cas died?

Dean’s grief, for sure.

I’ve never felt Naomi’s simulation was super important for Dean to know about. Cas communicated something similar when he said “I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You.” Cas rebelled for Dean and told him as much. Plus, you know, the love confession. I think that if Dean doesn’t get how much he matters to Cas by now, he just needs to be told straight up, not shown or given any more examples. As far as addressing the issue further in canon, 8x17 Goodbye Stranger covered that. Dean knows Cas was brainwashed to kill him irl and resisted it.

Dean’s grief, though, Cas is completely oblivious of. Cas has no idea that Dean even cares about him as a person instead of just as a valuable teammate. He starts to get an idea that Dean wants him around from Dean’s purgatory prayer in 15x09, but he’s still able to be incandescently happy about telling Dean he loves him and dying in front of him, and that wouldn’t be possible if he knew that that was going to destroy Dean and lead to his death/passive suicide. Unlike Dean, Cas is going to need more concrete evidence that Dean loves him and that he’s good for more than sacrificing himself every time he gets the chance! Get that angel some self worth!!

I wonder, if they’d had a conversation about Dean’s grief earlier, if 15x18 would have happened the way it did. I think not. But I love 15x18 as a wake up call for Dean and think this conversation is basically inevitable afterward, so I wouldn’t want this topic to be addressed in canon unless it happened in an alternate version of 15x19 or 15x20. Anyway, that’s why we have post-canon fics :)

[tibbinswrites]

Suptober Day 31 - Halloween

Dean stood outside the motel room door for a full six minutes before he worked up the nerve to knock. It took eleven seconds for the door to open on Cas wearing a smile and a floppy, purple, light-up witches hat.

“Happy Hall- oh.” His face fell as soon as he saw Dean, and the hand holding the bowl of candy dropped, spilling a few Jolly Ranchers onto the dirty beige carpet.

“Trick or treat?” Dean said with a guilty half-shrug. He’d almost forgotten that it was Halloween; it was still light outside, just, a little too early for the costumed kids to be out in full force. “Sam told me where you were. I’m glad you’re not too far out.” In fact, Cas’ chosen stop for the past few days was only a 45 minute drive from the bunker, which hadn’t been nearly enough time for him to talk himself out of the trip.

“Yes, well I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” Cas said with bite.

Dean winced. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He shifted his weight between his feet and glanced around. No one else was out yet, probably putting the finishing touches on whatever costumes or decorations they’d thrown together. He felt exposed on Cas’ doorstep, and the chill nipped at his skin through his jacket but if Cas didn’t want to invite him in then he wasn’t going to bring it up.

Fortunately, after a few seconds deliberation, Cas stepped back, looking annoyed but not as furious as he had expected, and held the door open for him. Dean stooped to pick up the Jolly Ranchers and drop them back in the bowl still dangling at a dangerous angle from Cas’ hand. Cas jolted into action at Dean’s movement and set the bowl down before shutting out the crisp fall air behind him.

“It’s been months, Dean.”

“I know.”

“You couldn’t have called ahead? Let me know you were coming?”

Dean fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. “I didn’t know if you’d answer the door.”

“Shouldn’t that have been my choice?”

“It was your choice to let me in.” Dean pointed out.

Cas sighed heavily, “What do you want from me, Dean?”

“Just your time. A few minutes to hear me out.”

Cas’ expression pinched but he nodded and gestured for Dean to continue. Dean was too scared to even crack a smile at how ridiculous Cas looked with that pissed expression and a flashing hat.

He took a deep breath and looked down at his hands still playing with the zipper. He couldn’t bring himself to meet those eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for everything that I said. I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you, I’m sorry that I blamed you. I’m sorry that I wouldn’t let you talk to me. I’m sorry that I pushed you away.”

He dared a glance up but Cas’ expression was as unmoving as stone. “I never blamed you for Mom,” he continued. “Not really. I was just so mad and so worried and I knew, I knew that I missed the signs in Jack too. But you were the one who loved him first, who knew him best… I dunno why I thought that was a good enough reason to say what I did. It wasn’t. I was grieving and I was scared and I was stupid. You were right to walk out. It took me a long time to accept that but you were right.”

Air shuddered in Dean’s lungs as he inhaled; Cas didn’t need to know about the two months of downward spiral, the weeks spent in an alcohol-infused haze, the four separate times he’d completely trashed his room, the dozens times he exploded at a still-grieving-and-increasingly-concerned Sam before Sam had finally exploded back, throwing it in his face that this was why Cas had left, because he made people miserable, because he only cared about his own pain, because he seemed to think that the people closest to him only existed as props for him to lean on.

When Sam had compared him to Chuck, that struck a very deep chord. He’d taken a few days to stew, a few more to apologise to Sam, and a few more than that to find a new balance with his brother where they processed their grief together. They’d even scheduled another session with Mia. They hadn’t asked her to shift into Mary or Jack, or Rowena; that kind of goodbye wasn’t what either of them needed, but they were candid in their sessions and didn’t have to try to talk around all the crap that had happened. Mia bore up pretty well, considering. They’d also gone for a couple of private sessions each since because ‘You’re both allowed to have your own lives,’ as well as some more group ones to ‘learn how to support each other without absorbing it all like a couple of lunatics.’

Dean had talked a lot about Cas in those private sessions, and even more about anger. The talking helped more than he liked to admit, but actually giving it a voice meant he had to listen to his own bullshit, which was super helpful in making him feel like an idiot, but also let him step back to look at the wider picture of who else had been caught up in it.

Cas didn’t need to hear about that.

“But I didn’t- you have to know, I do care about you, Cas. I care that your powers are weakening, I care that you-”

“Gone,” Cas interrupted bluntly. “Not weakening. Gone, for about two weeks now. I think it has something to do with Heaven. Or Chuck’s leaving, I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” Dean said. Then, “that- that must be a lot.”

The slight twitch in Cas’ jaw told him all he needed to.

“I’m sorry I left you to go through that alone.”

Dean knew he was saying the words ‘I’m sorry’ a lot. Maybe too much. Not because he didn’t mean every single apology, but because he was worried that they would start to sound empty.

“Losing them was… an unpleasant transition.” Cas allowed.

“So was losing you.”

If Dean felt anything other than complete and utter contrition in that moment, he would have grabbed his phone and snapped a picture because Cas’ face did something he’d never seen before. A mixture of shock, a blush, a kind of mystified bafflement, a scowl and a smile all seemed to form at the same time and the result would have been comical if Dean wasn’t so worried about which one would win out.

He seemed to settle on the bafflement, which wasn’t the worst option and Dean would take it.

“I miss you when you’re not around,” Dean confessed. “I can’t tell you how often I asked Sam if he’d heard from you. I worry about you and I hope that you’re okay. And I miss knowing that you’re there, I miss knowing that I can talk to you. I’ve told you things that Sam doesn’t know, and you know other things that I’ve never said aloud and I had to hold myself back from praying to you because you said that you were trying to move on. I get that, I do. And I’m not trying to guilt you into coming back. You have no reason to want to. I have treated you like a tool from the beginning and I didn’t even realise because it didn’t feel like that for me. It felt like I learned to rely on you, to trust you.” And then he swallowed because he swore to himself that he’d be honest. He needed to lay himself bare for Cas. “To love you.”

He heard the intake of breath but was decidedly not looking at Cas so he couldn’t judge just how bad it was; he ploughed on, “It scared the crap out of me. Still does. I don’t know how to love like that, Cas, and I ended up doing it all wrong and I never even told you because I didn’t want it to be true, because if it was true then someone could use you against me. You became a weak spot. But you also made me stronger than I thought I ever could be and I didn’t know what to do. So I called you my best friend because you were… you are, and I thought I could ignore the rest. But every mistake you made felt bigger than it was, every choice that I didn’t like felt like a betrayal and every time I would twist it around and make you feel like crap because it was easier than admitting that I was just terrified of losing you.”

He risked a look. Cas’ expression was somewhat pained, but not really angry anymore. At least, not at surface level.

“Why did you come here, Dean?” Cas asked quietly. “After all this time, why now?”

“Because it’s taken me this long to figure it out.” Dean replied. “And to grow the stones to actually say it. I’m not here to ask your forgiveness or to beg you to come back, I don’t expect anything. You have every right to hate me. But you deserve at least an apology, and I wanted you to know your options. I just- I want you to be happy, Cas. With or without me I want to know that you’re in the world and you’re living the life that you want. You’ve spent enough time living for other people.”

“And... if I wanted to return to the bunker with you?”

Dean swallowed and tried very hard to keep the hope out of his voice. “Then I’d say there’s a pumpkin pie cooling on the counter and Sam’s waiting to watch Young Frankenstein. And, if it’s just tonight, that’s okay. And if you don’t wanna stay then I know Sam really wants you to stay in touch and if you don’t wanna talk to me I understand but-”

“I’ve never tried pumpkin pie.” Cas interrupted, moving over to pull a duffle bag from under his bed and began the process of packing.

Dean just stood there, dumbfounded. Watching as Cas carefully collected all of his things and placing them neatly in the bag.

“You- you’re coming back?”

He hadn’t expected this. He’d wanted it, of course, but he hadn’t even dared hope for it.

“Yes.” Cas said, as though he hadn’t just set Dean’s head spinning. “We’re going to have to talk more, at length. I haven’t forgiven you, Dean, I don’t think I can just yet. But I understand why you acted the way you did, at least for the most part. Either way, now that I know that I can live without you, I can in fact, be quite content, I want this to be a new start, on equal footing. I can’t go back to taking your orders without question, I will not fall back into that pattern of just letting it slide if you are cruel to me for the sake of cruelty. No matter your insecurities or your fears. I want to help you through them, Dean, and I want to be there for you, but I will not be your punching bag. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” Dean’s voice was a croak.

Cas looked up at the sound and smiled at him, and it was soft and beautiful and made Dean think of sunlight glimmering on a lake.

“I missed you too,” he said. “And I love you. And I’m glad you came here tonight.”

“Me too.”

Cas zipped up the duffle and swung it onto his shoulder. Then he walked up to Dean, cupped his chin and leaned forward to press a kiss into his hair before reaching around him for the doorknob and letting himself back out to throw his bag in the trunk.

Dean let himself be flustered for three seconds, let himself melt a little at the sensation of feeling protected, of the ease with which Cas had made the gesture, as though it was their routine. He hoped that it could be, he really did.

When those seconds were up, he grabbed the bowl of candy, because no way was he leaving perfectly good Halloween candy just lying around, and headed out to the car himself. He slid into the driver’s seat, gave Cas the candy to hold in his lap (along with the hat, which was too tall for the car) and started the engine.

Less than ten minutes in he gave into the temptation to reach for Cas’ hand, which he willingly gave; it was warm and firm and strong and Dean could barely believe that he was holding it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, barely audible over the loud purr of Baby’s engine.

Cas squeezed his hand in response.

Things weren’t fixed between them. There would be more arguments, more long talks, more slammed doors. But there would also be more hand-holding, more gentle kisses, more touches and more patience from the both of them. Like Cas had said, they were on equal footing in this now, both a little off-balance but willing to steady each other. They would figure it out, as they always did, and happiness would come.

@winchester-reload​

If you liked this, please consider buying me a coffee.

[aworldforgirlslikeus-blog]

Greetings all!

I’ve decided to start this blog to keep track of some of my interests, particularly my reading life. I’m a librarian, and I read a lot of different books that cut across many different genres. But I’m particularly passionate about romance novels, because that’s where I get my daily dose of much-needed female gusto and hero-ine-ism. But I wasn’t always a romance reader. In fact, I didn’t discover romance novels until I was an adult in my 30s. Oh sure, I read some titles that you might consider “romance adjacent,” such as YA titles that featured love stories. I also read fantasy and sci-fi novels that had romantic pairings aplenty, and some pretty risque erotic scenes. 

But pure romance novels? Those trashy paperbacks with half naked cowboys or Scottish kilt wearers with rippling abs on the front? No way! I considered myself a well-educated young feminist, and I bought into the negative hype against these novels hook, line, and sinker. I truly thought they had nothing to offer me, and I believed critics when they claimed that these sorts of novels were poorly written, full of sexist stereotypes about both men and women, and backwards-thinking about sexual situations.

So I grew up never reading romance, although I read widely in pretty much every other genre. That is, until the day that something strange happened.

I remember I was waiting in line at a CVS for a prescription because I had just gotten out of the hospital. I was suffering not only from a strange and mysterious illness that had sent me to the hospital with uncontrollable vomiting, but also from the traumatic and sudden death of my mother a few months prior.  Everything in my life was spiraling out of my control, and it sounds cliche to say it, but it’s true - my entire life was full of darkness. I couldn’t see any way out or any kind of way forward. I had always considered myself strong and independent, but the trials I was going through at that time were so far beyond me that it constantly felt like I was drowning in my own terror and sorrow. 

But while I was standing in that line, a book happened to catch my eye: Julia Quinn’s “The Girl with the Make-Believe Husband.” At the time I thought it would just be something amusing to read for a few hours. And if it was awful, I figured I could always regift it to the Friends of the Library in a resale.

But instead of just being a pleasant diversion, this truly remarkable book wound up changing my whole perspective on the genre. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it definitely was a pleasant diversion. It took me away from myself and my problems for hours and hours. However, even more than that, it was incredibly well-written and witty, and it was chock-full of playful banter and dialogue that made me laugh out loud, and an engaging plot line that had me turning page after page trying to figure out how it ended. And that’s all before I even mention the sexual tension! Whoa boy, that was also pretty engaging, to say the least! 

When I turned the final page the story had resolved itself in a very satisfying way. However I wasn’t satisfied at all - I wanted more books! I immediately sought out more books from Julia Quinn, and started a steep nose dive into the romance genre as a whole, one I haven’t been able to pull out of since. 

Romance novels are truly delightful to read for many reasons, most of which I’ve already listed above when talking about Julia Quinn. Romance novels tend to be incredibly well written (no matter what many critics might want to say), and they have to be, because romance readers are some of the most discerning critics out there! Historical romance readers know so much about their favorite time periods that even mentioning the name of a color that didn’t exist during that time period could be a potential criticism. 

Romance novels also need to have gripping plot lines that truly draw you in from start to finish. There are so many of them sitting on the shelves that if you don’t open one and know from the first line that you simply have to read it, then it’s not going to flourish in this genre. There are so many introductory paragraphs that have totally sold me on a book before even looking at the description, and when I try to compare regular fiction titles to romance in this regard, there’s truly no contest - romance novels win every single time! 

And a lot of this has to do with the witty writing that romance writers employ. Some of the wit is humorous and some of it is not, but in a genre that was (arguably) birthed by Jane Austen, is it any wonder that romance writers are some of the best at engaging dialogue and eviscerating takes on the foibles of every day life? 

All of which leaves out the beating heart of romance novels: the characters! Speaking of Jane Austen, just say the name “Mr. Darcy,” and think of the powerful feelings that name has conjured up in legions of Austen fans around the globe. Some men may be groaning as they read this, grumbling to themselves that that’s really all romance novels are, just hot men that make women have impossible standards. 

But I counter that with these words: Elizabeth Bennet. Because in the end, who is more important to the plot and final outcome of Pride and Prejudice, her or Darcy? You could say, “Well sure, Darcy must be more important, without him there’s no romance at all!” But the real reason why the love story happens in this infamous novel is not because of Darcy at all. It’s because of Lizzie, and the powerful awakening that happens internally that changes her into the woman who Darcy eventually marries.

Just like most heroines, Lizzie starts off with a blockage. This is often the reason why the heroine’s life is a bit stunted or unfulfilled. These reasons are often internal fears or worries that then manifest themselves as external issues in their work or love life. So the heroine must then make a journey to resolve those issues, and she is often prompted either by the obstacles presented in the plot or by the appearance of the hero to do so. My favorite romance novels usually revolve around a plot that challenges both the heroine and the hero to overcome their issues at the same time, and this dual “awakening” of consciousness is the hallmark of every great romantic story (in my humble opinion of course). 

In the end, romance novels are not about the shirtless hunk of man meat on the cover. Romance novels are actually about the heroine and her internal journey as she struggles to come to an awakening in her own life that leads to a sense of empowerment that then changes her life and allows the romance to flourish. Her romantic success is not her primary attainment in the story, although that’s what some people choose to focus on. The reason that she gets the romantic happy ending is because she’s already done the hard work first - that of finding true fulfillment in herself. That is to say, the man isn’t the birthday cake, he’s just the icing on top.  

So apart from being great entertainment, romance novels also provide a wonderful road map to a more fulfilled and joyful life, because they show how you can go from a blocked or stagnant life to a more open and passionate one. Sure, we might not all find a Mr. Darcy (although we sure can hope for one!), however we all can undergo our own personal awakening to find greater pleasure in life via a job change, a new hobby, or a more expanded social network of friends. 

And yes, you can’t take everything in romance novels literally. Most of the action that takes place is a bit more exaggerated than what actually happens in real life, but the heart of them beats to the drum of the emotional truth of life, and in the end, that’s what I think I find truly inspirational. And yes, I also admit that there are other issues with the romance genre that need to be addressed, such as having more representation of diverse authors and characters. I’m glad to say that I think the genre is moving in this direction, but there’s still a great deal more work to be done in this area. 

In the end, I’d like to say that romance novels helped to cure me of the terrible grief that consumed me in the wake of my mother’s death. That they somehow made me stronger, or showed me a positive path forward. But that really wouldn’t be the truth. Years have gone by at this point, and I’m still struggling. But romance novels have given me some important survival tools. 

For instance, the humor in them reminds me of the joy that’s still left in the world, and their intricate and involved plot lines help me to escape to another world when living in the real one sometimes becomes unbearable. The heroines found within the pages also help to motivate me to reach my fullest potential, and remind me how important it is to forgive myself when I sometimes fail to reach that potential. 

I’m truly inspired by romance novels, no matter what the haters might say. And I hope that this blog helps to spread the gospel of the romance novel to others who may never have heard about them before, or may never have considered what these novels have to offer them. After all, there might still be women out there who, like me a few years ago, don’t know that it’s okay to ignore the naked man on the cover, and focus on the true message of the story, which I would like to argue is female (and male) empowerment.

Can you imagine standing inside of a bookstore and seeing signage for “Female Empowerment” instead of “Romance.” What a concept! For now, I’ll still be proudly staking the shelves, looking for new reads and suggestions. Hopefully you will be too :) 

xoxo, Jessica

[heavenxpiercing]

In Regards to Aiko

A short series of ficlets from Ichigo’s point of view on Aiko, his little sister in all but blood, and how her death affected him. 

For @aikouo​ || suffer, bitch. uvu

As much as he’d like to deny it, there was a small splinter of jealousy in his heart when it came to Aiko and her relationship with his father—their father. It was stupid. Petty almost. Being jealous of this girl he considered a sister in all but blood. This girl who had almost nothing. Yet it was there. 

Isshin was so loving, doting, and goofy with her—just like he was with Yuzu and Karin. Watching them had always warmed Ichigo’s heart, glad that his family had accepted her so easily into their fold. 

Yet there was still that splinter—aching in his heart. 

A feeling of not belonging. Isshin would not cease harping affection on this girl who he’d only known for such a short time, yet would hardly spare his firstborn son a second glance. An ounce of affection. All the praises and adoration for his daughters: Karin, Yuzu, and Aiko, but what for his son? A swift series of blows meant to be parried and a brief rant about Ichigo’s bristly demeanor. Nothing more, nothing less.  

But that wasn’t her fault. 

She had a tough life and deserved nothing less than every ounce of love the Kurosaki family could pour out for her. Ichigo would never fault her for that. 

Besides, he was pretty sure if he asked Isshin about it, Isshin wouldn’t hesitate, and that was really all he needed… He didn’t need to take any attention away from his sisters. The mental assurance that his father did indeed love him in his own weird way was enough. 

☀    ☀    ☀ 

After her death, guilt consumed him. 

Why couldn’t he protect her? 

It had been by her own hand, he knew, and that tore him up inside. Why didn’t he do more? Why hadn’t he been around that night? Why did he let his own goddamn problems take up so much of his time that he didn’t realize that she wasn’t alright? That she needed him? 

Ichigo wasn’t so arrogant to believe it was only his own inattention that led her to it. Of course not. Things like this were too complex and messy to say it was entirely his fault. He knew that much from his own musings on the riverbank when he was nine. It wasn’t just because his mother was gone. It was also the confusion and pain and guilt all on top of not really knowing what happened that night. It was the despair in his sisters’ eyes. It was Isshin not looking him in the eyes for weeks. 

That knowledge wasn’t enough to assuage the guilt in his heart though. It wasn’t enough to stop the image of her lifeless body from haunting him. It certainly wasn’t enough to blot out her cries begging him not to send her to the afterlife from ringing in his ears.  

“I’ll find you, I promise Aiko. I promise.” 

“Don’t do it! Don’t do it, I’ll never forgive you!”

A roar pierced the night.  Ichigo’s blood ran cold.

“You’re not safe here. I have to. They’ll devour you like this.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.”

☀    ☀    ☀ 

He didn’t remember the funeral. He wasn’t quite sure he even went. In fact, he wasn’t sure he remembered much of anything from the weeks following her death. He only knew he existed during that time because of how he screamed himself raw demanding that the Shinigami allow him into Rukon. He begged everyone from the Soutaichou to Rukia to Urahara to let him go look for her only to be denied by everyone he turned to. 

“The Arrancar are coming. We need you here.”

“She can manage on her own for a few weeks in Rukon. In the meantime the Arrancar take priority.”

“We’ll send squad members out to look for her. Right now, focus on the Arrancar.” 

It was like a broken record. Excuses. Arrancar. Lies. Arrancar. Broken promises. Arrancar.

Didn’t they understand that his sister needed him? 

☀    ☀    ☀ 

Grief made him stupid. It made him more vulnerable to his own hollow.  

When he finally turned to the Vizards for help, he was already a wreck. Guilt, anger, sorrow, and grief made him more volatile than usual, but also more prone to the Hollow’s whims. The mask could form at the drop of a hat, and Ichigo often found himself paralyzed for no reason other than the hollow’s sick amusement. 

“Daydreaming about that dead girl again? You fool. You should be more worried about me! Any day now I’ll be close enough to devour you whole!” 

“Leave me alone goddammit!”

☀    ☀    ☀ 

Shinji was the first person to notice that he wasn’t always all there when it came to training. Probably because he was the only one who’d known Ichigo—no matter how briefly—before Aiko’s death. 

Sometimes he was so caught up with the task at hand, they could hardly get him to stop or settle down for food or rest. Other times, he seemed so overcome with melancholy he could hardly move. Still others, he seemed akin to an animal in a cage, just itching to burst free and leave everything behind. 

After a couple weeks, Shinji had enough of Ichigo’s mood swings. 

When he confronted the substitute about it, Ichigo could do nothing more than break down. Whatever Shinji had expected, the teen guessed it probably wasn’t this. 

Then again, who would expect they’d end up with a sobbing 15-year-old in their arms for their trouble? 

☀    ☀    ☀ 

The good thing about Shinji was that he didn’t have any expectations of Ichigo. None of the Vizards did, not really. He wasn’t a weapon or a soldier or a tool to them. He wasn’t a hero either. He was just a standoffish kid going through something they’d all already been through before. It wasn’t that they liked him or anything. They simply understood. And fuck if that wasn’t exactly what he needed right now. 

However, Shinji was…different. 

He cared.

For all his annoying quirks and dramatics, he could be surprisingly serious. In a way, he reminded Ichigo a bit of his own dad… Like if Isshin had ever bothered with any semblance of dignity at least. 

Unlike his dad though, Shinji didn’t shirk around affectionate gestures. A pat on the head or shoulders. A one armed embrace. Hell, he even went as far as to ask about how Ichigo was doing and feeling every now and again. 

It was foreign. 

It was nice. 

☀    ☀    ☀

After he lost his powers, he was numb. 

He didn’t want to die… not really… He just wasn’t quite sure how to live… how to move on. 

Some nights he would find himself sitting at the riverbank, staring down at the water. He didn’t know how to live without the dead being such a prominent presence in his life… And she was there… waiting for him on the other side… 

Those thoughts that haunted him back when his mother died never really left, but they were background thoughts. Intrusive and unwanted and ultimately fleeting for the most part. Now though, they didn’t seem to want to leave. They itched at the forefront of his brain. 

‘You promised her. You promised her. Just do it. There’s no other way to get to her now. Just do it.’

‘You wanna do it anyways. Why don’t you.’

‘You’re useless at being a person. You weren’t meant to be alive. You never even made any plans for growing up. What’s holding you back?’

What was holding him back? Only the same things that held him back 8 years ago. Yuzu. Karin. Tatsuki. Now there was Chad to think about too. Uryu and Orihime… Mizuiro and Keigo as well… Sure… Chad, Uryu, and Orihime hadn’t been around much lately… but that was his own fault. 

Aiko would understand, right? 

Him living for Yuzu and Karin? 

As much as he loved her, as much as he wanted to be with her and make sure she was okay… Yuzu and Karin were his sisters too, and he couldn’t make them worry and more than they already did. Couldn’t hurt them more than he already had. 

He had to go on living. For them. He had to do his best… 

Besides… Rukia promised she’d look for her for him… She wouldn’t break her promise… right?

☀    ☀    ☀ 

Living was hard. 

He resolved to live and he refused to be swayed from that---Zangetsu would never forgive him should he allow his resolve to crumble---but that did not change the fact that living was hard. 

Some days he had too much energy. Some days, too little. 

When restlessness bubbled inside him, he’d wander the streets until he found himself in places that made his heart ache. The library near the train station where he and Aiko went to study sometimes. A bakery that sold numerous treats---strawberry milk, chocolate cakes, and milk bread amongst them---that he’d taken her to multiple times. Several times he found himself standing at the spot he found her and his blood ran cold every time. 

Ichigo could never get away from that spot fast enough. He’d turn around and sprint away as fast as he could, paying absolutely no mind to where he was going. As long as he could get away.

Once he found himself at the Vizards’ warehouse. Once. 

He even went so far as to go in, breaking his rule of not going near his connections to his old double life. It was one thing to avoid Urahara Shoten like the plague. It was another to not even say ‘hi’ to the people who helped him get stronger and kept him from going insane when he’d already practically run-up to their doorstep, right? Besides, he owed them a thank you at the very least. 

Finding the place abandoned was a little unexpected. But it wasn’t at all upsetting. Not at all. That was the lie he told himself on the way home at least. 

From then on, Ichigo made sure to steer far from the now-abandoned warehouse. 

 Other days, those when he had no energy whatsoever, Ichigo found himself weighed down with grief and exhaustion and a heaviness he had no name for. He didn’t even have the energy to get out of bed. 

Yet no matter how much he wished to sleep away the day, he rarely let himself give in. He was supposed to be living, dammit. Loathsome though it may be, he would force himself upright and out of bed with every ounce of willpower he could muster. 

Rare was it that he made it to school on those days, but at least he was not wasting away in bed, he resolved. Instead, he often found himself at the cemetery where his mother was buried. Longing for the company of the dead wasn’t exactly living, but it wasn’t dying. If nothing else, it wasn’t dying or contemplating his own death, and that was something. 

Lighting incense and praying for his mother and Aiko was… cathartic in a way. Atheist in that he believed in no higher power, having seen the injustice of the afterlife first hand, he was not above the Shinto practices he grew up with. It was strange how much he took comfort in such things as praying and lighting incense at the family shrine, but it was nice nonetheless. 

Aiko wasn’t buried there. He never actually found out where she was buried, but he knew it wasn’t there. His dad mentioned something about her “father” claiming the right to bury (maybe that’s why he couldn’t remember the funeral? Her father didn’t let them go?) or something along those lines. That didn’t deter his family in the slightest from adding Aiko to the family shrine. They put a grave marker for her right next to Masaki’s with the inscription, “Aiko, beloved daughter and sister, a true Kurosaki in every regard”.

“I can’t… I can’t look for you now… but I will. As soon as I can, I will… I really hope Rukia found you… Or at least… at least that wherever you are… you’re okay, Aiko.”

☀    ☀    ☀ 

[chiisana-sukima]

The Eldritch Bunker

***Collaboration Welcome. Add Your Headcanon Too***

...because we are going to continually expand these characters                    -Jerry Wanek (thanks, @hazeldomain, for the production shorts!)

@chiisana-sukima (that’s me!) wrote, in a post that didn’t work for adding, because reasons: I think the Bunker is a Good Puppy, and loves Dean, Cas, and Sam all. But because it is a Smart Puppy, it tries really hard for each of them, but sometimes the outcomes aren’t quite what a Human might expect.

Cas and the Bunker understand each other the best. Cas understands about the Bunker being a deeply, weirdly inhuman creature whose existence is too large for mortals to fill. And the Bunker knows Cas gets bored and lonely at night while his human friends are sleeping. So when Cas wanders through the Bunker at night, the Bunker lets him explore its maze-like recesses and dimensions full of wonders and magic that Dean and Sam will never see. When morning is approaching, Cas has to gently remind the Bunker that it’s time for him to go back up to the surface levels where Sam and Dean live, so that the Bunker can lead him out, because even Cas can’t find his way back on his own.

For Dean, there’s an alcove off the garage, full of tools and parts for all the classic cars. And sometimes when its in an especially helpful mood, the Bunker leaves parts for Baby around too, or a better brand of oil than Dean usually buys, and Dean feels suspicious, because how could the MoL have had any of those things, but maybe Sam picked them up, but Sam’s not really into cars…. sometimes it’s best not to question. 

And also for Dean, the way to the dungeon is a little straighter, the corridor a little wider, the locks a little stronger, the soundproofing perfect. The holy water is always well-stocked and the salt never runs out. In the shooting range, the targets are far enough back that they’re right on the edge of Dean’s ability, so he doesn’t just keep getting useless bullseyes over and over. The bunker makes no judgements; it was built for war.

For Sam, one might think the library would be perfectly organized, all the information Sam could want catalogued and easy to find. But the Bunker knows Sam better than that. Sam likes a challenge, and the Bunker likes to learn. It scatters things around for Sam. There are always cluttered new storerooms, another archive, more magical tools to sort. That way Sam will have things to occupy his mind. He’ll make new connections, figure out things the Bunker didn’t know itself. 

And Sam’s room- the Bunker is still angry that Lucifer managed to find it. It’s the best warded room the Bunker has, radiating a false nonexistence so strongly, that from the outside it’s barely there at all. But Cas had been to it too many times already before Lucifer occupied him, and Lucifer was determined.

The Bunker is determined too though. It won’t happen again. When Sam walks through the library, sometimes books fall off the shelves and land open to pages on complex warding patterns. If he’s not paying attention as he walks to his room, there will occasionally be an ancient clay jar of holy oil in the hall that he’ll somehow fail to notice until he’s already kicked it over and broken it. By now there’s a solid wall of holy fire soaked into the floorboards outside Sam’s door, just waiting to be set alight, and a fire spell has etched itself into the wood of the door frame.

@trisscar368  wrote: Sam’s room - yes PLEASE, because your idea of it being warded like that works perfectly with the fact that it keeps changing location.

The Bunker decided not long after the boys moved in that Sam would be safe when he slept; there were too many nights when Sam would still wake up breathless, the names of lovers and lost friends and tormentors alike all dying unspoken on his lips.  Too many nights where he refused to sleep until it was almost dawn, choosing to distract himself because the memories are just a little too close at hand.  So the Bunker cocoons his room away every night in the depths of the maze; it makes sure to have him back before morning, though it doesn’t always quite put him back in the same place, not after Dean snuck in that one morning to play music on full blast.

It hasn’t quite forgiven Dean for what happened under the Mark.  Oh, it doesn’t blame him particularly for destroying doors when he was a demon; he was a demon, he was barely the same creature.  The Bunker treated him as such - it has no eyes after all - trying to protect Sam by weaving extra passages between the two of them, only letting Dean find Sam when Castiel was close enough to help.  But since that last day with the Steins, with what happened in the library, Dean’s room has a habit of being slightly… misplaced in the morning.  Dean hasn’t said anything.  He still hasn’t forgiven himself, so why would the Bunker?

It wishes Cas would stay more.  It quite agreed with Kevin (oh, the Bunker tried to commune with Kevin’s ghost, but he just couldn’t hear the Eldritch being the way Cas can) that Winchester pity sessions are annoying.  Dean tends to be happier when Cas is around, and, well, the Bunker grew rather attached itself when Cas stayed those few weeks when he was ill.  It tries to feel more like home, this weird amalgamation of ideas and memories of all the people who’ve stayed inside its walls, but it doesn’t quite know what Cas wants; austere hallways of light?  Or dimly lit rooms smelling faintly of whiskey and leather and gunpowder.  Cas doesn’t know what he wants either.

The six weeks when the boys were gone were hard on both Cas and the Bunker.  He had a habit of forgetting the lights, wandering the halls in pitch black, losing himself in the grief and the guilt, trying to hide from the shadow of Lucifer.

Lucifer, now it hates Lucifer.  It hates the scent of rust that trails in his wings.  It hates how Sam stopped sleeping again when the boys knew Lucifer was free.  It hates how Cas sometimes wanders into the kitchen expecting to see a television on the counter, and stands there staring while he remembers where he is.

@floralmotif  wrote: Follow me below if you want to engage with headcanon speak dabbling in the idea that the bunker is an eldritch abomination. It’s just fun:

I’m actually not sure if it would like people in the same sense as a dog would. It would probably allow Cas a bit more reign just cause he can perceive it a little better and may be able to handle the concepts it presents without his brain shorting out. He may also be unaware of its nature on a conscious level. If this thing were actually a being, it would be pretty powerful even as presented. Amara needed Cas to find Dean in the bunker. This would mean that the bunker theoretically is more powerful than Chuck or Amara or is at least capable of hiding from them. It is no creature of creation. It just kind of settled there, perhaps drawn by the MoL or maybe it manifested on its own and they found it. They may be the only perception of human things its ever experienced. The Winchester’s found it after and it still had the same appearance. It’s possible it looks that way because the MoL were the first to meet it and the Winchesters don’t do anything to tell it any different. It may just be a void in reality with no perception that there is an outside at all. It’s like a computer display. It can display coffee as much as it wants but it doesn’t know what coffee is.

That being said, it’s a lot more fun to imagine it has a personality that can enjoy things and can create easy passage for sleepy Winchesters when it’s 3am and they have work to do. So Dean can find the kitchen easily even when it took him 3x as long when he was a demon. He doesn’t question it, neither of them do. It’s weird sometimes but they wave it on and the Bunker doesn’t mind that its unknown. It’s rather glad of it. No one has ever known it. The closest is maybe Cas but if Chuck didn’t notice the massive being of the cosmos, he probably wouldn’t either. Sometimes though, the bunker opens places for him. It wants to see how far it can go and Cas is a calm and curious being himself.

Perhaps it can sense intent or longing, or fear. It carefully arranges itself for whatever situation feels comfortable for it. The emotions of humans are perplexing but it isn’t a violent creature, it tries to avoid it.

                       (some shorter headcanons below the cut)

 @somekindofsaviour asked: Sam said in ep 12x12 that he has uploaded the Bunker library to an online archive. Don't you think that's really unrealistic? There must be thousands of articles and books in the library. The keywords alone would be a nightmare.

@grey2510 answered: I agree that it’s unrealistic. That kind of job would take FOREVER to do properly on one’s own, even if that’s ALL Sam were doing (and not ya know, hunting and making sure the world doesn’t end). (...)

Who knows. The Bunker already seems to have magical tech capabilities. Maybe it has magical digital archiving. Bonus feature!

@floralmotif​ (in response to a gifset where Mary is walking, and the corridors are going a different direction than usual): Now I’m thinking of an instance where the bunker gets Mary lost. She wanders around until finally getting to the kitchen and Sam and Dean think she’s slept in and she’s like “I got lost. This place makes no sense” and they both look at each other and offer her coffee in concern and confusion because they don’t perceive the Bunker’s nonsense most of the time.

@eruthiawenluin wrote:  #but what about when demon/MoC!dean is roaming the halls?    #and the bunker is //confused//    #because it can sense that there’s something wrong with him but this is //dean//  #but it tries to give sam some reaction time when dean’s after him    #and sam is almost killed for it and stays away from certain areas of the bunker   #and it kind of… panics?    #sam’s already hesitant to call him ‘home’ because of his history (and lack thereof) with 'home’  #so he’s always careful to create detours for sam   #the bunker is a bitter sam boy    

[ulrichfoester]

Let’s Talk About Addiction

Addiction – what is it anyway?

An addiction is anything that is hard to stop doing regardless of the negative affects it has on your life and the harm it brings to those around you. It feels like an intense need for a substance and this substance can take the form of food, cigarettes, gambling, sex, shopping, video games or alcohol – just to name a few.

Regardless of the form the addiction takes, addiction is common and shared among people of all races, socio economic backgrounds and education, basically no one set of people is immune to becoming addicted to a substance or behavior and People from all walks of life are affected.

Though addiction is common place, many people suffering from an addiction, including the friends and family members of those suffering are ashamed to talk about it. It is my hope this essay will help to keep the dialogue going, as talking about mental health issues and addiction is a step toward understanding and therefore healing.

Why Does Addiction Happen?

In my experience, having had a close friend addicted to alcohol and another to stimulants as well as my own struggle with a food, addiction is not caused by one single factor and it definitely does not show up because of mental weakness or a lack of willpower.

Research states however, that a few of the factors that affect the probability of having an addiction include genetics, our natural brain chemistry, traumatic childhood experiences, mental & emotional health (people dealing with depression and/or anxiety) and simply not knowing how to deal with stress.

Research also states that if one has parents that have or had struggled with addiction, that person will have a higher propensity of becoming addicted to a substance or behavior.

In regards to brain chemistry, addictive substances and behaviors increase the level of dopamine (a pleasure chemical) in the brain, which gives the feeling of positivity and good will. In my case, dopamine is released in my brain when I eat sugary and salty foods. In the case of my two friends they suffered serious childhood traumas, emotional and physical abuse and they never dealt with them, as they never felt they were able to talk about it to their families. This caused them to seek comfort in their substances. The fact of the matter is no one wants to feel pain; it is through their vices of choice that my friends found some temporary relief and a temporary escape.

Regarding mental health, (depression/anxiety) I know many people that suffer form anxiety/depression. In my case, as I am sure also in the case of my friends, our substances helped us deal with anxiety. When I was very excited or worried I would get very anxious and felt I needed food to calm my nerves. And there it was, my erroneous belief that food, my drug of choice would make my experience somehow better. My friends, I dare say, also self medicated with their own substances thinking it was the most effective tool in their arsenal to ease whatever trauma or discomfort they were dealing with at the time.

With that said…

With that said how many of us in some way look for an external source of power when dealing with our issues? How many of us avoid facing or torments and struggles? How many of us didn’t have to learn how to deal with our traumas, anxiety, and depression? The fact is, as humans, we will find tactics to deal with the traumas of life, some less obvious than others, some healthier than others.

For years people would go through the humiliation and shame of having someone in their family addicted to drugs or alcohol as if it is an attestation of the individuals lack of strength or lack of self-control.  Let’s me ensure I am crystal clear here: it is not!

Lack of will power has nothing to do with being an addict, relapsing or falling into old habits. If you don’t’ believe me just go ask anyone who has ever been on a diet.  Relapsing also has nothing to do with a lack of good intentions to stick to a program either, just remember when you started the gym on January 1st  and stopped going by the last week in February. Let us all think twice before we exalt ourselves over those struggling with recovery.

The work – paying attention to triggers

“…A person with mental illness can recover even though the illness is not ‘cured’… Recovery is a way of living a satisfying, hopeful, and contributing life even with limitations caused by the illness. Recovery involves the development of new meaning and purpose in one’s life as one grows beyond the catastrophic effects of mental illness.“ ~ Recovery from Mental Illness, William Anthony

Going deeper into my own issues, there are tools and lifestyle changes I had to incorporate in order to live a healthier life and I had to find ways to properly and effectively deal with stress. Psychotherapy, self help books, my spiritual practices, exercise and volunteering are all tools I still use. I also had to identify certain situations and people that are triggers for me and either avoid them all together or if I could not, pro-actively arm myself with appropriate affirmations & self talk to minimize the perceived stress these triggers would cause.

Coping strategies are therefore imperative and consciousness of the fact that major changes, a death in the family for instance can be a serious trigger. I experienced this when I lost my dear brother to senseless gun violence on July 1st Canada Day in Toronto 3 years ago. Remaining conscious through my grief, allowing myself to go deeply into my pain and not try to mask it helped me to avoid what could have been a major setback.

Then there are the days that stress compounds. Little two headed stress goblins seem to call on all their little stress goblin buddies in the universe to happen to you, and all the same time! It can feel as if there is a cosmic conspiracy against you to give you and only you a bad day, week, month! This is not the case, the universe is friendly and you must make the effort to fix the narrative in your head that claims otherwise. This is a part of the work.

Doing the work will also help you to do the work because it builds confidence, confidence that you can and will deal properly with the whatever stresses are flung in your direction. Fixing my narrative also opened me up to realize these stresses were a sacred and weird gift from the universe, they are opportunities for us to practice conscious thoughts, acts and practice using our tools. These stresses are here to help make us stronger and what a gift that truly is.

The road to success is often paved with relapse

Often times a relapse can feel like failure. I had seen my friend struggle with this: “Julia” he would say “I was doing so well… you know?… 7 months two weeks… you know?” The shame and the disappointment were, for lack of better words “too real” and have all heard the stories of folk being sober 11 yrs., 12 years etc. then suffer a relapse. The fact of the matter is, very often relapse is a part of the road of recovery. Again, Relapses have nothing to do with lack of will power and it definitely has nothing to do with a lack of good intentions. Having a plan in hand ready for when stresses do occur, can allow the addict to feel more in control when crisis do occur.

If you know someone suffering with an addiction of any kind the best thing to do is to encourage them and to be as informed as you can about the addiction and the factors that may trigger them. It is important as well to help the loved one change their narrative. Personally I had to reframe relapses, as I have had to reframe failures in business. Again, it is worth repeating, a Relapse should be seen as a disguised gift, an opportunity to learn ones triggers, and how to better deal with them. Again, a relapse is not a failure, it is a part of the journey to success, it is an opportunity to pinpoint what works and what does not.  

In conclusion – there is no conclusion.

Managing addiction is an ongoing process, think of it this way: any one of us can fall into the grip of anger or a road rage at any time, addicts have to be conscious that at any time there may be an external factor that wants to tip the scale and send them hurling in a less than healthy direction.

Understanding that recovery is not only a goal but also a process is important for the journey. It is learning how to truly live a higher quality of life and making space in your reality to being ready to receive that higher quality of life. It is recognizing and investigation ones own triggers and being conscious in decisions. Therefore, In conclusion, there is no conclusion in living with addiction. It is a journey, a continuing process into our highest selves, keeping the hope and the vision of the person we intend to become clear and in view at all times.

And Finally…

Though it is often said people need to hit rock bottom – I personally do not believe that is fully true, I think people need to hit “adequate discomfort” from the addiction in order to get to the point of surrender and none resistance. I also am an advocate of hope in the future. In recovery, without hope and a belief that we can have a better life and a better existence we would lack the motivation to even try.

 So The next time you meet someone or the family member of someone struggling with recovery, remember your own failed diet attempts, remember the times you started a gym membership on January 1st and quit by the 12th of February, remember all the times you needed a kind word, of encouragement and support, then have some compassion. Most importantly don’t be embarrassed or afraid to talk  about the addiction and be sure to listen, that is a gateway to the journey of recovery.

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