#when i get healthy coping mechanisms i'll let you know

[dudeshusband]

anyway. i'm having a normal one as usual.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Too Far.

Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.

A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.

-

He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?

He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.

He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.

-

He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.

“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.

“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”

“What? That’s not-“

“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”

Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.

“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“

“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”

He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.

“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.

When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.

The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.

“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.

“What did I do?”

“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”

“I’m sorry”

That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.

He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.

“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

“I’m so-“

“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”

She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.

“Okay”

He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.

“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”

“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.

“Tell me about th’ vacation”

“I don’t-“

“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”

He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.

“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“

“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”

“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”

“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.

“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”

He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.

“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”

He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.

“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”

“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.

“In every life…If you’d find me”

“I’d find ya”

-

He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.

He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”

Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.

He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.

“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.

She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.

“Everything”

[incorrectbatfam]

How would the batfam react to someone robbing the Manor?

Robber: *enters*

Dick: Oh good, you're here! Do these shorts make my butt look big?

———————

Robber: *taking things*

Jason: What are you doing?

Robber: Robbing you.

Jason: There's a safe in Bruce's office. Passcode is 0816. Feel free to take a crack at it. I'll be in the library if you need me.

———————

Robber: *picking the lock*

*door flies open and hits them*

Tim, on the phone: I'll be there in ten. In the meantime, tell Kon and Bart not to touch anything.

*door slowly swings shut*

Robber, stuck to the door: *slowly peels off*

———————

Robber: *pocketing antiques*

Damian: You must be Alfred's new assistant. I see you're already taking the initiative to get our family heirlooms restored. After that, I need you to do the laundry as I have run out of clean school uniforms.

Robber: Uh, no, kid. I'm robbing you.

Damian: Oh. In that case...

Damian: *stabs them*

———————

Robber: *walks in*

Duke, being kidnapped: Do you mind? We're kind of in the middle of something.

Robber: Sorry, I'll come back later.

———————

Robber: *enters*

Cullen: Hey, I know you're here to rob us, but I've been practicing some magic tricks to impress my boyfriend's family. Can you do me a favor and pick a card?

Robber:

Robber: *picks a card*

———————

Steph: *making a snack while wearing headphones*

Robber: *sneaks up behind her*

Steph: *throws a banana peel over her shoulder*

Robber: *slips on the banana peel*

Robber: *slides across the kitchen*

Robber: *gets tangled in the curtains*

Robber: *falls into a suitcase*

*suitcase shuts*

*suitcase rolls outside into the pool*

Steph: *takes off her headphones and turns around*

Steph: Did someone say something?

———————

Robber: *climbs in through the window*

Cass: Hi.

Robber: Hi.

Cass: You're a robber.

Robber: Yes.

Cass:

Cass: *pushes them out the window*

———————

Robber: *comes in*

Barbara: *looks up from her computer*

Robber: *slowly backs out*

Barbara: That's what I thought.

———————

Robber: Give me the TV!

Harper: Sure, just hold this for me please.

Harper: *hands him a grenade*

Harper: *pulls the pin*

Harper: *walks away*

———————

Robber: *unlocks the door*

Carrie: You must be our new bouncy house guy.

Robber: No, I'm robbing you.

Robber: Wait, you have a bouncy house guy?

———————

Robber: *enters*

Kate, with a clipboard: Name?

Robber: My name's Rob, I'm here to rob you.

Kate: Sorry, I don't have you on our list.

———————

Robber: *saws a hole in the wall*

Helena: What are you doing?

Robber: Robbing you.

Helena: You know the door's unlocked, right? I swear, it's like people don't even try nowadays.

———————

Robber: *unplugging the XBox*

Luke: Best Buy is just down the road.

Robber: ...You're Luke Fox.

Luke: Yes I am.

Robber: Champion MMA fighter Luke Fox.

Luke, rolling up his sleeves: Always nice to meet a fan.

———————

Robber: *ransacking the place*

Bette: Who hurt you?

Robber: What?

Bette: This isn't a healthy coping mechanism. Talk to me. I'm here for you.

Robber, breaking down: It all started when I was little...

———————

Robber: *sneaks in*

Alfred: Not on my watch.

Alfred: *drags them out by the ear*

Robber: Ow, ow, ow.

———————

Robber: *smashes the window*

Selina: Pfft, amateur. Let me show you how it's done.

———————

Robber: *steals the computer*

Bruce: *reading the newspaper*

Robber: *takes valuable jewelry*

Bruce: *still reading*

Robber: *lightly bumps into one of the batkids*

Robber: *turns around*

Bruce: *suddenly appears with the bat-glare*

Robber: I'm just gonna—

Robber: *gets instantly knocked out*

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

it's still agatha and her river

mama, I'm sorry I got upset. mama I'm sorry we're both starving tonight. I promise I'll do better tomorrow.

a six year old taking responsibility and apologizing for his mother's shortcomings.

agatha looks down at her precious little boy's pleading face

and she smiles at him, and nicky gives her a big relieved grin.

evanora is not stealing this moment. she did her worst to fuck with agatha's brain chemistry, but in one fundamental thing she failed: agatha is capable of loving her kid. despite all her other shortcomings, she will never blame nicky for her own faults.

she does a cute little dance for him, and this is what they do, isn't it? he's too small to explain his big feelings and she is too scared, and so they sing to each other and hope the love is understood anyway.

see how he touches the brooch? if only she could have loved nicky in vacuum, without any of the emotional baggage. but he is only the last link in a long chain of witches, pain and and tears and blood that made him what he is. agatha cannot escape her identity and legacy no matter how much she tries, and she couldn't protect nicky from it either.

the last time she sees nicky alive he's smiling adoringly at her. this is the boy she can't face in the afterlife, because her own guilt is so strong she's convinced he will hate her.

nicky dies peacefully in his mother's arms. his soul wakes up and sees rio waiting for him.

that some good cinema dear lord

rio waves at nicky. he doesn't know her (when who will return?) but he still trusts her implicity - she's been around him his whole short life, in the woods, in the water, in his lungs.

and - the bit that destroyed us all - rio makes nicky go to agatha one last time. go kiss your mama goodbye.

light and dark, growth and decay, here and beyond.

remember when alice died and the camera turned upside down? it stops halfway here. agatha has been affected so profoundly by nicky's death that she can never let herself go back to the land of the living, but she's also too scared to follow rio to the other side. she's stuck in the middle, consumed by the impossible dream of bringing nicky back, never allowing herself to find peace and companionship again. in love with death, but running away from it.

(people never seem to make crack and humor vids for episode 9, isn't that curious? when it's soooo fun and lighthearted!)

well ain't that just brutal

I have always known

This Road is cruel and wild

I bury my own heart

Here with you, my child

(I think those are lavender flowers? I'm not 100% sure)

coolcoolcoolcoolcool. that's fine. I'm absolutely fine.

BARRIERS UP right away. even if she looks like a mess. especially because she looks like a mess. she's not showing weakness in front of anyone, she's protecting her grief like a jealous goblin, and since she cannot run, she straightens her dress and gets ready to fight. the option to ask for help and comfort doesn't even cross her mind.

her eyes still full of tears / agatha gets another wonderful, awful idea.

we've seen this so many times, haven't we? the real agatha disappears behind the character she plays. the agatha we've seen from the very start, since the moment she walked into wanda's living room, has been a lie. very few people have ever seen a hint of the poor bruised heart she hides inside, and only to rio and (to some extent) nicky she has ever opened up.

how can someone go from total heartbreak to planning murder in the span of two minutes? well, you can if you are agatha harkness and have never learned one healthy coping mechanism in your life. and I'm sure she's already rationalizing it as something like "if I get powerful enough I can bring nicky back." but the truth is, she just wants to get drunk on magic and murder and stop feeling so horrible. she's running away, like usual. she's planning to kill witches in front of the grave of the very kid who begged her not to, and she's using his song to do it. as if that's not gonna haunt her or anything.

(it really gets me how agatha's smiles are so different from kathryn's. agatha never smiles with her eyes, except when she's with nicky.)

agatha's diabolical scam is so stupid if you think about, definitely worthy of the clown she has become. just pretend the Road didn't open and then annoy people into attacking you! better than using a literal child as bait, I guess.

here she absorbs a yellow coven, and yep, it does look like covens are all supposed to be the same color?

the bodies from the agnes of westview opening.

orange coven in the late 1800s. I really like that dress and hat on her

blue coven in the 1920s, and another cunty outfit

I know you guys like the 90s look, but it makes me laugh how hard she was trying for that Craft vibe. and we don't see the beams color here.

and finally, our girls. (I miss you all so muchhhhh)

what do you know! looks like a door has appeared! (sharonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!)

from fuck has my karma caught up with me to well well well, looks like we have another little maximoff on our hands

and speaking of little maximoffs and giant assholes...

go to episode 9 part 5

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR WORKAHOLIC CHARACTERS WHO PUSH THEMSELVES TOO HARD *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

there's still a lot of work to be done.

i'm not finished with it yet.

i can't give up just yet.

there's nothing noble about working yourself to death.

you think i can't handle this myself?

there's not enough hours in the day.

i realize you think you have to do this.

working like this helps me think.

i'll sleep when i'm dead.

your work ethic scares me sometimes.

i don't need your help.

do you ever sleep?

they need me.

no matter how hard you work, it won't bring them back.

do you realize how crazy that sounds?

i'm not stopping until this is done.

you need to slow down.

i feel like i'm wasting my life.

have you ever taken a vacation?

i can handle this on my own.

i'm nothing without my work.

you're going to get sick if you keep going like this.

you've proven your point.

you're going to work yourself to death.

there are worse ways to spend a life.

you can't keep going at this pace.

i don't have time to rest.

it needs to be done.

do you have any healthy coping mechanisms, by any chance?

there's no time to waste.

i think it's time for you to take a break.

everything was going great until you stopped me.

i can't sleep yet. not until this is done.

i'm the only one who can do this.

at least let me help you.

if i just focus on my work, i don't have to think about anything else.

i'm not asking you to take a break, i'm telling you.

did you really have to interrupt like that?

i'm not budging.

it's my life's work.

you're not going to convince me otherwise.

when was the last time you slept?

i'll help you finish the job if you promise to get some rest.

you're practically falling asleep standing up.

you can finish this in the morning.

let me get you to bed.

don't you get it? it's over!

working yourself to death isn't going to fix anything.

if i don't do it, no one else will.

i wish you would take some time to rest.

i'm not taking a break, if that's what you're asking.

you just broke my concentration, thank you very much.

i'm not going to bed.

i don't know how to quit.

they're counting on me.

too many people rely on me.

i can't disappoint them.

you need a vacation.

i wish you would just listen to me and slow down.

your eye bags have eye bags.

all right, that's it. i'm putting my foot down.

no more excuses.

what do you get out of this? this overworking thing?

without my work... i'm nothing.

no one else is going to step in.

i don't care about me. i care about them.

we have unfinished business.

if i stop now, it'll be like giving up.

i'm a perfectionist. it's in my nature.

better to pour myself into my work than something else.

i wish you would go easy on yourself.

this is very unhealthy.

[ninii-winchester]

You’d never know (Part 1)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.3k

Warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, spoilers s13, Dean is an asshole.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the world slowly enveloping in darkness. The same could be said for Y/n's mind. Dark clouds of hurt and loneliness lingering in the air, encasing her in an impenetrable bubble of insecurities. It was hard time, stating that is an understatement. It was a dire situation. She thought back to how she got here.

When Jack was born, his mother died giving birth to him. Lucifer arrived at cabin to take Jack away. He killed Castiel. Mary fought Lucifer pushing him inside the rift to the alternate universe, but before the rift could close Lucifer pulled her in with him.

Y/n, Sam and Dean watched in terror as Mary fell through and the rift closed. While Sam panicked, Dean was horrified. He couldn't lose his mom, not again. Y/n let out a gasp, her mouth dropped open as the dread settled in. She knew Dean would lose it, he's not gonna sit back knowing his mom is stuck in the apocalypse world with the Devil himself.

After burning Cas and Kelly's bodies, the trio took Jack back to the bunker. The air was tense, Dean wasn't happy with the decision. He didn't trust Jack, he didn't want him anywhere near him, his brother or his girlfriend. It was because of the Nephilim that he lost his mother.

Y/n was worried, Dean had closed off, he was distant. Most of all, he was angry. All the time. He constantly snapped at Sam, brushed her off any given moment. He wouldn't even look at Jack. The kid was trying to make good in Dean's eyes but he just shurgged him off.

Dean started to unwind a bit after the shifter case, and even more when Jack brought Cas back. Y/n was relieved that Dean was coming back to his normal self. After Jack accidentally killed the security guard, he decided to leave. Until he could control his powers, he wouldn't come back. Y/n was worried about the kid leaving on his own but she had faith in him.

"Hey!" Dean said bringing Y/n out of her thoughts. "You seem lost."

"Just thinking." She shrugged closing the book in front of her and putting it back in its place on the shelf. "You need something?" She asked tersely. She wasn't trying to be mean, but lately she didn't feel like he wanted her. After he brushed her off so many times, she didn't bother him.

Dean could hear the formality in her voice, and he knew he deserved it. He had been too preoccupied with his concerns to realise he'd been not only neglecting her but hurting her in the process, when all she wanted to do was help. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry." He gauged her expressions to see how bad he had fucked up.

Instead of speaking, she gave him a look. He couldn't quite read what was it supposed to mean. He chewed on his lower lip, leaning back against the table. With a loud sigh he moved towards her. Laying his hands gently on her waist.

"Dean." She reprimanded. She knew what he was apologising for, but she didn't need his apology. She wanted him to talk to her. She's told him a thousand times that she wants him to communicate. She knows it's hard for him but she needs him to express himself, she needs him to have healthy coping mechanisms. She doesn't want him to shut her out or resorting to alcohol.

"I know, I know." He rested his forehead on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have pushed you away. It wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry. I'll do better next time."

"I just need you to communicate with me, Dean. We're in this together. For better or worse. Next time, don't shut me out. We'll get through this. We always do." Dean nodded, his green eyes looking at her.

"Yeah." He placed a kiss on her head. "I promise."

When Jody called on a supposed lead on Jack, the trio went to find him. When they finally found Jack, he was with a girl, who ran away as soon as she saw the trio. Jack confessed that he was trying to help bring Mary back.

"That girl is a powerful dream-walker, her name is Kaia. She can help us." Jack said.

"You thought good kid. We'll find Kaia and bring Mary back." Y/n said patting Jack on the back.

When they finally found Kaia, she refused to help. She said that it was scary, and that she cannot get them anywhere other than The Bad Place, Dean's patience was running thin, he was growing frustrated, his mind was going off the rails knowing the key to getting his mother back is right in front of him but refusing to help. Sam tried to ask Kaia politely but then Dean pulled his gun from his jacket and undid the safety.

"Get in the car." He said calmly. He was anything but calm.

"Dean." Y/n and Sam warned. He pointed his gun at the young girl and Y/n moved in front of him. "Dean, this is not the way to convince her. You're not thinking straight."

"It's my Mom, Y/n." He growled.

"I know Dean I understand but-"

"No you don't!" He exclaimed. "You'd never know how I feel Y/n. You've never had a mom." Dean yelled and the atmosphere fell completely silent. The only sound audile was the woosh of air. Y/n let out a gasp taking a step back. "You wanted me to communicate huh? So listen to me and listen to me good. You don’t know how I feel, I need my mom back and" he pointed his gun at Kaia "she's gonna come with us either way. And you're gonna move out of the way."

"Dean." Sam exclaimed his eyes widened. He wasn't sure what possessed Dean to say all that but he went too far this time.

It was true that Y/n never knew her mom, she was barely two months old when her parents gave her up. It wasn't until she was thirteen she found out that her parents didn't want her since they were too young to be parents. She had told Dean about her longing for her parents but she never thought he'd use it against her.

Without a word she moved aside, unblocking his path to the dream walker. He motioned the girl with his gun to move and she got into the car, Jack followed. With his jaw clenched, Dean got into the drivers seat and slammed the door.

"Y/n." Sam started, "I'm so sorry. Dean he's..."

"Go Sam." Was all she said.

Sam approached her with hesitant steps, he hugged her tightly. "I'm really sorry." He whispered. Dean watched the two in the rear veiw mirror, the anger flushing away and guilt settling in. He knew he regretted those words the moment he said it but he was far too gone in the moment to realise. He turned his head to the front as he heard Sam slide into the  passenger's seat. The air was thick with tension as they drove off to South Dakota.

Y/n wouldn't lie, sometimes she thought that Dean didn't need her as much as she needed him, she often thought he might leave her but never in a million years did she think it'd be this way. She never expected him to hit where it hurts the most. In that moment, each and every feeling resurfaced. The feelings she tried so hard to suppress, the feelings of being unwanted, of not being enough.

She can't ever forgive him and won't ever forgive Dean Winchester.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33

[valandrawrites]

2024 Recommended Fics - Incomplete List

Here's my start at an end of year round up. If you're looking for a specific kind of fic or trope, let me know, and I'll try to find something for you! I have many, many more I could add, and what I've included is in no particular order.

I didn't list the rating or warnings with this because it just got too long, and honestly, I'm lazy. Read at your own risk.

A. fragilis by eachainn @eachainn

This is quite simply the best fic I've ever read. Do not continue until you read this one!

150 million years ago, an Allosaurus finds a stranger had wandered into his territory and he wants the intruder out.

1878, the middle of what will become known as the Bone Wars between O.C. Marsh and Edward Drinker Cope. Castiel Novak is transporting fossils from the latest dig in South Dakota back to Yale. He has to be careful, because there are people who work for Professor Cope who would gladly take the fossils off of his hands.

Those Who Get in the Way of Peace by ladyofthelake17 @ladyofthe-lake

“Don’t make me an optimist. You will ruin my life.”

Dean Winchester finally has his shit together: business is booming at his auto repair shop, he's eating healthy (okay, he's eating salad with bacon bits), he's exercising (in a cemetery). He's single, but he's claiming it as a good thing. And so what if Sam's not talking to him? So what if his dad is marrying an insane artist? And so what if the priest marrying them is hot as hell with a name that sounds like a sin just to say it — Castiel?

AKA: another Fleabag fic, but maybe it'll have a happy ending. Maybe.

Illicit Ink by allmystars @allmystars-i

Dean Winchester has a secret. He does this thing maybe two or three times a week, and he loves it, don’t get him wrong, but… He’s a camboy, and that’s not exactly something he wants shared around the breakfast table. When Dean decides he needs a change, it’s nothing too drastic, just a tattoo. But the hot-as-sin tattoo artist he gets to do the job might just change everything.

Ground Control to Major Tom by MrsShinigamiDaiko @mrs-shinigami-daiko

Dean Winchester dreamed of being a mechanic all his life, but he never thought he would end up working as a mechanic for NASA and going into space. He is thrust into his first ever space mission after a strange lunar body, dubbed Luna-b I, mysteriously appears in Earth’s sky. Teams of astronauts scramble up to the permanent lunar base and begin analysis to determine if the blue orb is any threat to mankind. Most of the first team is sent home after a few months, nearly all of them having fallen ill with devastating cases of space sickness. As time goes on, it becomes clear that something altogether unnatural is going on here. Dean feels like he’s losing his mind as he and his crewmates also begin to succumb to sickness. He races to figure out what could possibly be the root cause. Is Luna-b I really just some weird, deep space rock that got caught in the Moon’s orbit by chance? Or is it something much more sinister, watching and waiting for the opportune moment?

Pinfall by crowleyo @crowleyo

Cas runs the family diner with his adopted son, Jack. His old high school flame rolls into town and he thinks he can just step back into Castiel's life. Well... He's kind of right.

This Impossible Happiness by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta

In one universe, Dean Winchester is pushing thirty. He’s just danced at his little brother’s wedding, he likes his job at the garage, and he goes on the occasional hunt with friends and family. He’s also desperately lonely for someone to share his life with. One day, he finds a mysterious package outside his door. It contains a news clipping about an urban legend that just might be real, and a book by Professor Castiel Novak, who happens to specialize in that same urban legend.

In another universe, Castiel Novak’s roadside motel is slowly dying, its business hollowed out by the interstate system. Dean Winchester, the man who asked him to run away together years ago, is only a painful regret these days. Until the day a mysterious letter Castiel doesn’t remember writing brings Dean back to his doorstep.

Out there in the multiverse, a man and an angel look for each other in all the wrong places. In the meantime, they might as well help a few other versions of themselves figure things out.

Then Comes the Rain by someonetoanyone @someonetoanyone-blog - a three part series

“I’m not looking forward to it,” Rowena tells him, as though that will absolve her of anything, “he may have a better solution for this, but the spell requires a smidge of spilled Grace. He’ll need to be hurt for this to work, and — Dean, all joking aside, you may be the only person fit to do this.”

“Oh, this’ll be great — go ahead, tell me why I’m the only one that can get butt-fucked to save the world.”

Mind Your Own Business by BunnyHunter

While the ability to overhear the secret thoughts of the people around him was distracting at best and anxiety-inducing at worst, Castiel had found ways to cope that included a pair of noise-canceling headphones and burying himself in his PhD research. After hearing inner thoughts for his entire life, there were very few things he overheard that surprised him anymore. So imagine his shock when his roommate Sam's brother, Dean, came to stay with them. While Dean may have been able to keep a straight face on the outside, his inner thoughts told a much different story.

Survivalism by bleuzombie @bleuzombie

Genetic engineers Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester are on the verge of a breakthrough in cancer treatment and possibly even a cure, using genetic manipulation and incredibly, shark DNA.

Following a devastating diagnosis of brain cancer, and amid growing pressure from his boss, Dick Roman, for results, Castiel is pushed to an act of desperation. He tests the cure on himself with disastrous and violent results.

He has never been so hungry.

Dean Winchester’s half-way house for orphaned half-monsters (and humans) by foolondahill17 @foolondahill17

What if Dean just kept every kid he’s ever interacted with?

A re-write of season 6 onwards in which Dean slowly collects every conceivable stray that crosses his path.

The eyes of a lamb by naughtystiel @naughtystiel for Shedar

The year is '98 and Spring is approaching fast. For most, the season is a symbol of new beginnings with Mother Nature’s chaste kiss that breathes life into everything once more. It's inspiring, peaceful and beautiful. So, the fact that this is exactly when a certain serial killer loves to strike makes Detective Winchester's blood boil. Two years in a row now, the guy has slipped through his fingers, not leaving a single trace behind. No clues, no leads, just murdered women in the most picturesque places imaginable. And the worst thing of all? Sometimes Dean catches himself admiring the killer's work.

where there is darkness by quiettewandering @quiettewandering @wanderingcas 

When Castiel Milton takes a job to be the new assistant keeper at Whaleback Lighthouse in Kittery, Maine, he expects to live out his new life in quiet isolation. What he gets instead is Dean Winchester: bitter, brash, and, like Castiel, harboring a dark secret. As the spark of attraction between them grows into a flame, the lighthouse walls start closing in—as do the ghosts of Dean and Castiel's checkered pasts.

[trikruismybitch]

Moving On By Letting Go

inspired by clip i saw from the show "scenes from a marriage" and the song "August" by Taylor Swift.

It's raining out just a light drizzle but enough to make the air cold. But here you are bundled up with an umbrella when you walk up to her.

"Hey Nat i know its been awhile but i really need to get this off my chest." You take a steading breathe making sure to collect your thoughts before starting.

"I've met someone else, and it was hard moving on because i always end up coming back to you but this time it's real. Not some fucked up coping mechanism to get over you or forget about you, or to push everything away. She helps me and makes me confront my shit in a healthy way." You wipe your nose. You can't tell if it's from you crying or the cold, probably both.

"So, it's just different" you shrug "An entirely different kind of love" than the one we had you think "I remember, someone saying, that it was like a piece of tape that you rip off and try to reapply. It'll stick again maybe but it won't be like the first time."

And maybe thats for the better. With you and Nat there was always hope for maybes and eventualities. Nothing about your future together was ever written in stone, hope for a future where you both were more than just hero's who loved each other.

But Natasha was stuck in that life no matter how hard you tried to lull her to peace, she was stuck on cleaning the red in her ledger, which is why you guys are stuck the way you are now.

"You have to know I'll never love anybody the way that i loved you" Your voice cracks but you continue "It's a fact. With you, breaking up was never on the table. It would never even have occurred to me." You laugh lightly as if the thought of it was funny. "I just never thought you'd be the one to leave me." Your body racks with sobs. You drop the umbrella to reach out to her with both hands, but she's cold. Why? You always remember her being so warm, yet here she is all thats left of her, a headstone with her name on it and the memories of everyone left who loved her.

[dadzawa-abc]

Hii, I really hope I'm not bothering you with asking this. But I've gotten to see quite a bit of post about age-regression? Is that how I'm supposed to type it?? Sorry if I typed that wrong, especially if that made you uncomfortable. English is not my first language. Anyway, I was wondering, I guess, what age-regression is? Cause like I said, I saw I lot of it, both recently and in the past. But I've also gotten told in the past, well, not any good things about the people who age-regress? I'm not saying I agree with those things I got told. Those weren't any nice things, so yeah. However, if others aren't hurting me, themselves, or other people, then I usually leave most people alone. But in short, I'm curious and want to know more? Cause, well good sources are good. If that's okay? If not, you can just delete and forget about this. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Have a good day or night!

☁️ what is age regression? ☁️

(long post); a TLDR at the bottom

Hey anon! Thank you so much for stopping by to ask your question. I'll be answering it for you today -🧸 Hawks.

first of all, I'd like to say that yes, you did type it right! English isn't our first language either, so we understand! People also may spell "age regression" as "agere" which is just a shorter version of it. So when someone spells it that way, they're the same thing./information

-Now, what is age regression? What's it used for? :

age regression is, in short, a coping mechanism where people may mentally regress to a younger age than themselves physically. Example, let's say person A is an age regressor. They are 20 years old. But regress to a much younger age. Like 3-6 years old. Age regression is very different with every person who does it, so that doesn't mean a single person has to regress the same age. Someone could regress to be a newborn, another can regress to be a middle (which is around 10-teenager age) if I'm not wrong. Anyone can regress to any age, depending the person. Age regression is a healthy way to cope. Age regression is a professional therapist recommended coping mechanism, and it does not hurt the user who does it, or anyone around them. Age regression can also be for fun. Some, if not, majority regressors do regress due to trauma. To restore their childhood that they never had. Or to relive a childhood they wish they had. Whiles others who may do it for fun, doesn't have to use their regression as a coping mechanism. Hey can age regression because hey, it's fun to do! And so it's isn't something that you can only do if you have trauma. Everyone can do it. Trauma related or not

- is age regression harmful/bad?

⚠️ Tw/CW: ageplay talk ⚠️

Not at all! People whom may tell you that "regression is bad because ___!" Is usually the ones who don't do research. Age regression is a safe-for-work coping mechanism. Which means it's never sexual, or a kink. Alot of people who aren't in the community will assume age regression is just a kink thing, and that is untrue! Many people will get "ageplay/ddlg" mixed with age regression. While age regression is never inappropriate, and is appropriate for all ages to do, ageplay is a kink to.. hopefully just something adults do. Ageplay, is a BDSM kink where someone will pretend to be a younger child while their partner, whom they'd usually call: daddy/mommy/whatever title, they will do inappropriate things with them.

Meanwhile, age regression is a lot different. Like I said, agere is a safe for work coping mechanism. And NO little, (which is whom we call someone who age regresses) will pretend to be a child for sexual reasons. When someone age regresses, they mentally revert back to a much younger age and sometimes can't even do things they'd normally do when big (which is what we call them when they aren't in a regressed state anymore). They physically (mentally physically,) regress to an age of a child. And the difference between that and ageplay, someone who participates in ageplay will never mentally regress to a younger age. They pretend to be, for sexual desires and kinks. They do it on purpose for sexual pleasure, while people who age regress can't consent at all when they're little. Since they actually do regress mentally to mostly 10 and under. (But even if they regressed around being in their teens), they still can't consent.

-some popular titles (that you may want to know)

What is a caregiver?: A caregiver, is someone who will take care of the little when they're regressed. A caregiver can take on a father role, mother role, sister, brother, etc. (Solely depending how the little sees them/and how the cg would like to be called)

What is a little?: A little is someone who age regresses

What is a flip?: A flip, is someone who regresses, AND is a caregiver.

what is a pet?: While I'm not saying pets are the same as age regression, it does exist. An age regressor may regress, but may also be a pet regressor (or) someone isn't a little but be a pet regressor instead. pet regressors has very similar concept with age regression. While age regressors regress to a younger age mentally, pet regressors will regress to an animal. (Ex; cat, dog, bird, deer, dragon, fawn, list goes on) and just like age regression, is SFW

TLDR; Age regression is a SFW coping mechanism that is therapist recommended and is not at all harmful to them, or others. Age regression can also be used for fun and doesn't have to be trauma based to regress. All ages, genders, sexualities, races can regress. Age regress is for everyone and isn't something only feminine, petite or hot pink lovers can enjoy. Everyone can regress no matter what anyone says about it.

I don't know alot of resources to direct you to, but I wouldn't really recommend google either. Google is a "trust me bro" and "he said she said" deal. It'll tell you false things and it'll mix age regression with something completely different. But I find # agere resources tag a very helpful place to scroll in. So I'd recommend checking there if anything answers anymore questions you have. Hope this answers your question, anon. Feedback is amazing so if you have any more questions or anything, let me know

[that-one-odd-shipper]

🍉 . Fic Post . 🍉

This is a previously written fic! Right now I'm promoting my old fics just to let y'all know they exist.

🪭- A little Dazai fic! This is my first bsd agere fic I put out there, and I am pretty proud of it 🥺

🍄- This fic is inspired by the lovely Playrough's agency little fic! In which Dazai has a nap time set up for him by the agency since he tends to get cranky and fussy without sleep, but a meeting ends up making him miss it for the day. What Dazai didn't expect is how used to the naps his body had gotten.

🥀- Dazai is really small in all of my upcoming fics and this one, not even one year when he's regressed. Kunikida and Chuuya are co-caregivers to Dazai and it is mentioned how Dazai doesn't particularly like the concept of being little. This fic is pure fluff, a tiny bit of stress comes from the baby but not enough to be considered angst. It's a nice story to fall asleep to :)

❤- Now, I'll attach the first few paragraphs bellow for you to get a feel of the fic. Link to my ao3 and the fic itself will be at the end! Please enjoy, comment and like!

Ever since Kunikida and the Agency have found out about Dazai's regression, they've been pushing nap times. Something about him getting "Cranky, tired, and less productive" after a certain time in the day

Dazai kicked his legs under the table, trying to stay focused. There had been an important joint Mafia and Agency meeting today, which just so happened to fall at an inconvenient time.

...Stupid, he knows. Besides, Dazai is never productive so what difference would it make?!

These naps normally happen late at lunch. It's not like he could just slip out of the Agency to go home early, either! To ensure he got this nap in every day the Agency and the stupid slug, decided to pair up for this.

If he tried to escape and head home, Chuuya's stupid camera door sensor would catch it. Of course that was set up for him...the slug can't mind his business! He didn't even do anything before it was set up, the executive just assumed he would try! Rude...

And so, the little one had to accept that he would be caught either way. It was either walking around in the stuffy outdoors for the rest of the day every single day or taking a nap. His pride said the first option, but it's obvious what the best choice was.

'But Dazai, you're a genius! Why didn't you just deactivate the system or use another entrance?' Well, it's pretty hard to think clearly enough to sneakily turn off a system when you're admittedly very fuzzy and droopy.

From working so hard of course. Nothing else, totally.

He doesn't need an assigned nap! Not to mention, a person to watch over him. He knows when he needs to take a break... Totally. This is why in the first place he didn't want the agency to figure it out, but that all went down the drain...

Have they been nothing but accepting of him? Yes, that's the issue! They shouldn't be condoning this behavior, let alone enforcing it! Dazai doesn't deserve to act like a literal baby, "A healthy coping mechanism" be damned. He doesn't need one of those either.

Protesting that mindset to them only made it worse, however. That doesn't mean he wouldn't still attempt to be bratty and refuse, but it gets hard when all you feel is comfort and security in a Member's (or Chu's) arms.

How these naps played out was always the same. He would get fed a bottle of warm milk about 30 minutes before his nap, fed because he got the privilege of being able to feed himself taken away...

He only dropped it on his head like, once! It doesn't matter if it caused him to start crying, he can still do it like anyone else can feed themselves! He shouldn't have started crying anyway, it was a tiny little bump. God, why did little him have to be so sensitive?

When it was time for the nap, there were two main locations. With anyone besides Kunikida, Chuuya, Yosano, or Fukuzawa he was to be laid down on the couch smothered in blankets.

But when Kunikida had a chance, he would always volunteer to watch him first. It's like he has some attachment, the idealistic man always looks anxious when he's away from the embarrassing baby side.

With Kunikida, he was either laid on a tiny futon that was unrolled from the closet next to Kunikida's desk but rarely. Most of the time he's on someone's lap being rocked to sleep since motion puts him out like a light.

Others that were offered were Atsushi, Ranpo, Naomi, Junichiro, and with supervision of another adult, Kenji. However, with Ranpo and Atsushi, it gets... Complicated.

Atsushi and Ranpo are also little, but they are at least big kids! Most of the time, at least. They don't need naps or bottles, but they are also set off easily in the presence of another little.

That was learned the hard way when Kunikida ended up with 3 giggly and squeamish littles after coming back from break. From that day on all three of them couldn't be alone caring together, unless there was time for some sort of play date after nap time.

Dazai would rather live than have to regress more times than needed, so he's never had a play date with the two, though he's heard they do it decently often.

And of course, there was Chuuya. Sometimes, when he was free during lunch break he would come to pick Dazai up for his nap. Normally he'd get taken home, but occasionally he was taken to Chu's office where he got to sit on the rolly chairs!

However he always preferred going home because of the risk of someone walking into him, the genius Dazai Osamu...giggling as Chuuya Nakahara bounces him on his lap or gently spins the rolling chair around. Yea no.

Originally the nap thing was set to every other day, or just not required every day. Dazai ruined that for himself though very easily. Once he had gotten used to the napping, apparently his body went 'oo! Time for sleep!!!? ;?! ' around the scheduled time automatically now.

He ended up struggling to stay awake as he did work with Kunikida one day and got nothing done, per usual. Dazai eventually drifted off on his shoulder from the exhaust, not very grown-ass 22-year-old of him.

But back to the current situation, it's the dreaded nap time. Well, way past nap time. Currently, there is a meeting going on between the Agency and the port mafia, that's all fine. The fine part was that the meeting had gone at least an hour off schedule.

It was planned so as not to bump into the time he gets put down, but stupid Mori couldn't agree on the originally proposed terms, so now they've been stuck!

______________________________________

Another thing is that Dazai hadn't quite realized how his body had gotten used to the nap times. Now that's come to bite him in the ass because he can't stop rubbing his eyes and yawning.

The work is called Cranky Baby! Here's the preview, Links to the full story and my ao3 page bellow.

Work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56113351

My ao3 acc: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Odd_Shipper/pseuds/That_One_Odd_Shipper

[thecomfywriter]

For day three of Christmas I ask of thee:

What is Morreial's inner fire? What sparked him into being him? Has the flame within him ever been overshadowed by circumstance?

LAST MORREIAL ASK OF THE NIGHT WOOHOOO

AND ITS A BANGER WOW.

okay i'm sleepy so let's get into it straight away!

day four of tcw's 12 days of askmas--morreial's inner fire [tov, sai, and potential lotf series spoilers]:

honestly, i hate to give credit to these two factors, but it has to be said. there's one factor i would love to give credit to, but that's a very very big spoiler so i'll debate it.

factor (1): his retained infant memories

remembering the incident and how his parents died is an EXTREMELY STRONG motivator and character moulder for morreial. those memories rocked his core and gave him unforgettable trauma, but also an extreme sense of patriotism, but far more balanced than the jervees before him. it gave him a reality check and born within him his hatred for von doro but also his compassion for everyone affected by the incident. and it also forced him to become resilient.

a big reason why morreial ends up being one of the most emotionally regulated characters is because of this factor. being this severely traumatized at such a young age and not being able to suppress the trauma to cope with it forced him to seek therapy and help instead, which is where he learned healthy coping mechanisms and proper tools to deal with his grief. which is why he becomes the most well adjusted member of the squad.

factor (2): the jervees

their upbringing was horrid as balls, but it did shape him into who he is in tov and beyond. he is pragmatic, logical, intelligent, thoughtful, shrewd, slightly mysterious, and patriotic because of them. a skilled magician because of them. educated and well mannered because of them. skeptical and slightly sketchy... all of these things are the byproducts of their upbringing.

factor (3): his soul-bond

i won't say who his soul-bond is with, but i'll tell you this much: i'm not talking about cara.

him and cara have an apa relationship. that's not what i'm talking about here. his soul-bond is like a reflection of himself who exists to balance out all his qualities. they are an extension of him, and holy SHIT does this character help morreial in EVERY FUNCTIONAL WAY POSSIBLE.

his soul-bond is the reason why therapy worked for him. in all the places he would've slacked or fallen off, his soul-bond helped him pick himself back up again. when he was getting bad again but he was too prideful to ask for help, his soul-bond was by his side and the person to ultimately convince him to abandon his pride for his health. i cannot express how VITAL his soul-bond was to his character development and his character as a whole.

so in terms of what morreial's inner fire is? i'd have to say his resilience and his desire to, for once, find peace of mind. he knows it's impossible to wipe the memories away, so he seeks to find a way to find peace despite them. and in terms of how circumstances have overshadowed that fire, i'll give a quick concise list of a couple of cases where that's occurred:

meeting caramel (her hair + her fire is a big trigger for him)

hilbert's return

any indications of another incident (earthquakes, bad weather, dark skies, wildfires) -> they trigger bad episodes that make it harder for him to maintain that inner fire

[SPOILERS INCOMING ALERT ALERT]

raheer's entire mott plotline

discovering what happened to evan in cos

all of these circumstances wreck him in a way that makes it hard for him to recentre. but he always ends up finding a way, because morreial's entire arc is about healing from the hurt that burns us within.

thanks for the ask, wyked! and that concluded morreial day!

-- the holiday limited-edition tag list --

@wyked-ao3 @an-indecisive-nerd @drchenquill

@paeliae-occasionally @theink-stainedfolk @inseasofgreen

@thelovelymachinery @the-letterbox-archives @illarian-rambling

@bunnymermaidwrites @the-golden-comet @sm-writes-chaos

@leahnardo-da-veggie @corinneglass

[please tell me if you don't wanna be tagged i promise i will stop 🥺]

[goldenavenger02]

The U.S Election and Anxiety + Tips For Voting

Hello everyone! I've decided that this year, during the election cycle since I live with my conservative family still, instead of getting into useless arguments with them and doomscrolling the whole time, I'm going to practice some mindfulness instead and this is where you come in!

I am writing down every single healthy coping mechanisms/distractions I can, that way I can stay vigilant and informed but I also don't spend four days watching a slow ticking map again, and putting them on folded pieces of paper and into a small bowl. That way anytime I get too stressed or I get into a fight with my family, I can pull one out and at the very least, distract myself for a little bit.

If you know of any healthy coping mechanisms that you use, it doesn't even have to be something you only do every 2 to 4 years, it can just be something you do when that feeling of panic starts to build in your chest, comment below, message me, submit them or reblog with it in the tags.

What I currently have right now is rewatching/rereading comfort media, exercising, cleaning, deep breathing/visualization, hanging out with my pets, crafting and playing mobile/PC games.

I am also willing to make my list public for anyone who needs it if they also suffer from debiliting election anxiety.

At the end of this, I just want all of you to remember a few things. Election anxiety, especially after 2016, is incredibly common and you shouldn't feel ashamed for having it when this political climate has turned into one of hate.

If you are a United States Citizen/registered/old enough to vote, vote. If you are in the line before 6 p.m on November 5th, 2024, they legally cannot turn you away. Bring food and water, there are states where it is illegal for someone to bring you food and water in line. Remember not to wear anything that can be seen as political when you go to vote (not even your Captain America shirt that is in your dresser). And voter intimidation and voter interference is illegal. If someone is standing outside of your polling place, harassing you or others about who they're voting for, let your poll workers know. If you hear someone talking to their buddy about doing something like, I don't know, lighting a ballot box on fire (this has already happened in Washington and Oregon), report it to your non-emergency police line. If it ends up being nothing, you won't be in trouble and if it ends up being something, YOU HELPED PROTECT DEMOCRACY.

Even if you are in a blue state, even if you're in a red state, even if you are in a swing state, even if you hate Kamala Harris and her opponent, even if you don't want to vote down the ballot (which you totally should because it can slowly turn your state blue), even if you are scared of the outcome, vote like your rights as a POC, as a woman, as a member of the LGBT+ community, as someone who isn't a white, straight man will be taken away from you. Because that is the sick reality of the US right now. This election isn't Harris v opponent (remember, names have power), this election is freedom v fascism, no matter what your MAGA relatives say.

And finally, when we fight, we win. Let's beat Kamala Harris' opponent in such a landside that he can't go crying to his lackies AKA the supreme court and beg them to overturn this in his favor with any evidence of "voter fraud" AKA him not getting his way.

And if you're like me, anxious about what will happen to your rights in the upcoming week, we should stay informed. But there is a difference between staying informed and doomscrolling. Yes, there is a LOT at stake in this election, there is no sugarcoating that.

But when you feel yourself start to panic, or your relative starts yelling at you for something they believe your party is doing even though it's not real AND even if it was, you aren't the one doing it, or you feel yourself leaning to unhealthy coping mechanisms, reach into the bowl.

I'll make a list of coping mechanisms to reblog under this and edit it as more come in. The fandom tags under this are so the post gets more reach which is NEEDED and most of these main characters would be voting blue if they were real.

[powderrblue]

i missed writing about hadlee heart hands emoji. ghost showfall employees woo

edit i was gonna write more of this but again. it probably wont ever happen this is so old

Hadlee threw her raincoat around her shoulders, fingers combing her long black hair out of the way.

"Honey, it's pouring outside, you'll catch your death," Beau tried once more.

"It's okay, I promise," Hadlee said as calmly as she could manage for the tears that threatened to choke her. "I'll be back and dry before you know it."

Beau's gaze didn't let up.

"Alright," she verbally relented after a few more seconds. Her arms were outstretched for a hug before Hadlee had a chance to look away.

"I don't- I don't need-"

Beau held her arms out still. "I'm the one who's asking."

Hadlee moved close. The older woman's arms were as grounding as ever as they wrapped around Hadlee.

No comment was made as Hadlee struggled to keep her breathing even. Still nothing when she hugged Beau as tightly as her shaking limbs let her.

"I'm sorry," was all Hadlee whispered.

"You did good, baby," Beau said in reply, shaking her head. "Don't be sorry."

"I shoulda listened-"

"There's nothing we could've done. For any of them."

Hadlee hugged Beau tighter. She knew full well the older woman was only talking about this for Hadlee's sake. She also knew Beau wouldn't drop it until she was satisfied with Hadlee's ability to talk herself out of the hole she was digging for herself.

That time was far from coming today.

"Can we stay home just for tonight?" Beau asked.

Hadlee shook her head.

One last resigned sigh from Beau marked the end of her attempt to steer Hadlee back to the house. "Alright. Don't be out too late. Call me if you need me. You know the drill."

The black-haired girl released herself from the hug with an affirmative nod.

Hadlee picked up the keys to her car, starting it and spending a few moments flipping through radio channels before turning it off entirely.

It had been a little over a year and a half since Showfall had been shut down. The mall was always silent now, like it had been before. The government had put in cameras once to make it look like something was being done to prevent Showfall's return.

Hadlee knew they wouldn't come back anyway. Once a location showed any signs of being found, they'd move on without leaving a trace.

The mall itself didn't take much of a drive to get to from Beau's house. Hadlee had only hesitated to go before due to the realization that Beau probably wouldn't view visiting it as a healthy coping mechanism.

Sometimes it still felt like yesterday when she'd sat on the curb, Paislie beside her, Randy and Henrik standing behind her, chaos surrounding her, all of them disoriented and unsure whether they were sharing a dream or worse.

Hadlee and Paislie had done nothing but sign to each other for days afterward.

The actors, Randy's quote unquote family, Paislie, and Hadlee herself were all separated multiple times in attempts to find a combination that would allow for a more permanent housing situation without anyone panicking after two minutes of being separated from each other. Between the constant questioning and legal settlements, it had been a long time in coming.

In the house Hadlee was at long last settled in, death seemed to come in waves. Henrik had been the first, then Paislie not long afterwards. Hardly five months later Maria was next, Randy following her the next morning.

Needless to say, the house got to feeling a lot bigger very quickly.

Ava had asked Hadlee if she was leaving too not long after everything had happened.

Hadlee hadn't answered.

The newly turned twenty-year-old refocused her eyes, waiting for that train of thought to leave, only to find herself standing at the door to the mall.

The cameras there had already gotten hit by rocks, probably because of some kids wanting to go in and see what they could find in that hellhole.

It was cold when Hadlee walked in. The mall usually wasn't warm anyway, even back when it was Showfall.

The sets from the most recent show were strewn around the lobby, signs of a struggle long since forgotten more than obvious.

The makeshift cabin's walls were torn, chipped, and otherwise mangled down to splintered wood. Blood was smeared across the floor.

Someone should've cleaned it, her subconscious whispered. No, she didn't work here anymore, everyone was gone. Things were different. For better or worse.

Hadlee couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she could do it all again. Maybe she could've saved more of them, maybe she could've stopped them from-

Wherever the rest of that probably-not-healthy thought process was going was put to a stop by a chill down Hadlee's back and the sudden feeling of being watched.

She shuddered at the cold, glancing around as quickly as she could without passing out. She only spared a second for a fleeting thought of her thicker jacket at home- or Beau's house, rather.

"Is someone there?"

Hadlee grit her teeth. She still sounded so scared and she hated it.

What felt like the pressure of a freezing hand left a shivery feeling right above her right elbow.

Hadlee frowned. The feeling of being watched was less intense now. Or maybe more? Something about it felt familiar.

She shook her head. Nothing she was thinking made any sense.

"Pey?" she finally called, giving up on trying to think of anything that would give her a more normal explanation.

Hadlee felt another not-really-a-touch against her arm.

Casting another look around the little bit of the mall that was visible, she sighed and let herself fall to her knees on the floor.

She shouldn't have left the house, she should've known something would happen. Probably none of this was real.

Hot tears streaked down Hadlee's face as the chill settled over her shoulders this time in what felt like a hug.

A whispered plea for it to stop was all she could muster.

The touch didn't go away.

Hadlee hadn't really wanted it to.

"Don't do this, just come back," Hadlee told the disembodied pressure against her shoulders.

She registered a light touch above her left elbow.

"I didn't know what to do," she told maybe-Paislie. "You warned me about Maria and I didn't see it in time, why couldn't you stay and do it?"

No answer.

Hadlee swiped at her tears to try to see, but to no avail.

The touch moved to Hadlee's face.

Rain continued to fall outside, barely audible from inside the mall.

"I need you," Hadlee said. She didn't know what this was even accomplishing anymore. "Everyone's leaving and I can't do anything to stop it, I don't know what to do!"

Another presence settled behind Hadlee, but she ignored it in favor of trying to wipe her tears away again.

"Why did you leave me?!" Hadlee screamed at long last, wishing she had any control over the cold beginning to spread numbness around where it had come to rest.

Hadlee flinched at another touch on her already shivery back.

The presence that was probably Paislie signed an 'r' against Hadlee's arm.

So it really was Paislie. And Randy, Hadlee could guess without much doubt.

Hadlee felt tears continue flowing down her cheeks as she vaguely wondered whether she would be able to convince anyone this was real.

[chezgender]

Cha cha cha / It's crazy it's party comparison

@tmrwds post and @izpira-se-zlato addition gave me brainworms. @kylla-kylla also saw the connection between ICIP and CCC and I saw their post after I started writing this. So I'm definitely not alone in being insane. Thus here is my own rant about It's Crazy it's Party.

Notes:

ICIP lyrics transcript taken from @koppitules on twt, translation taken from a Käärijä discord

CCC lyrics and translation from lyricstranslate.com

Disclaimer: This analysis is purposefully exaggerated/dramatic in order to highlight contrast. I do think Jere loves his job and career, ICIP is definitely a fun song in which you can find (or not) a deeper meaning, it's up to your interpretation. I just love angst lol please don't come at me I'm sensitive 🤡😭

(ps. sorry to all the people I tagged. You don't have to interact with this, I just wanted to give proper credit)

Let's start. Bear with me being cringe.

First verse

At the beginning of CCC, we see how partying is reserved for the weekend - it's something cathartic after a long week of responsibility and worries, it's an outlet for stress and negativity. The world can't scare him no more, as he mentions later in the song, now that he's having fun.

In ICIP, people have pointed out how the first verse reminds them of CCC, musically wise. This is definitely on purpose, the main difference lies in the lyrics. Here Jere reveals that partying now it's an everyday thing. It's an endless circus of traveling despite everything, he's the cog in a machine bigger than him. The world that seemed so tiny compared to the fun, is now scary - the party is now and tomorrow and 365 days a year, in Finland and even abroad. As if there was no safe place. He can't escape it and it's overwhelming to the point "you'll feel it in your hair and your ass" (honestly, weird phrasing, but it gets the point across I guess?). Either way, this party is almost ineluctable.

Chorus

In the CCC chorus he says he wants to forget about the pains of daily life by getting wasted and drinking with both hands on as many drinks as he can hold, until he won't even be able to get up. Honestly, although this doesn't seem like a healthy coping mechanism (but I'm none to judge), it does look willing and deliberate - he makes the choice of getting drunk on the weekend. He's in control of when the party happens.

In ICIP instead the chorus is shorter, and quite tautological: crazy is crazy, party is party, and life is life, you know? (see @tmrwds for a cultural insight on the "elämä on laiffi" phrase). There's a different feeling in this chorus, the singing is soft and maybe even a bit sexy but the lyrics hold a touch of resignation in between. This party is not a deliberate choice anymore, Jere doesn't get to choose when his life is crazy/party and when he gets to rest.

CCC 2nd verse / ICIP Tommy's verse

Without need for lyrics, also because most people have a hard time understanding what Tommy was singing live, I'll talk about this in brief. I chose to include it because Jere himself sang some parts of it during the live - mostly echoing, but still.

In CCC, Jere parties almost alone. Well, it's implied that there's more people to that party but the song is about him, his own liberation from stress and whatever thing was keeping him bound and off the dancefloor. There are no explicit references to other people.

In ICIP instead, Tommy sings about a club in which they enter and people go crazy. They talk about sex in a rather crass way, probably for kicks, but as mentioned in @tmrwds post, it could definitely hint at the wrong kind of attention Jere is receiving. People in his DMs and probably even in person are making more or less explicit advances on him, surely unsolicited, but it's part of the party.

And Tommy invites Jere to party with him (that modulated voice parodically reminds me of the beginning of Barbie Girl by Aqua). Jere says yes, of course he wants to party with him, right here right now (no matter the day, or his condition, does he really have a say in it?)

Another thing I'd like to point out:

Jere in CCC mentions "it's hard to talk when this different side of me does its part" / Tommy in ICIP mentions how the alcohol makes it hard to think (obviously, but I'm clinically insane and I see intertextuality everywhere) - so, basically, the "side of him" Jere talks about in CCC renders him carefree, maybe happy, definitely free of burdens. In ICIP, this "part of him" seems to have taken complete control to the point Jere can't tell himself from it.

Last part of ICIP

"Let's go party" leads to a countdown - inexorable and short, leaving everyone little time to get ready. The song explodes like a bomb, reminds me of a breakdown in a Korn song. The bass hammers hard and everyone is jumping, hearts bursting, everything is out of control. To quote @izpira-se-zlato , there's an apocalyptic feeling to it. Jere can't do anything but let himself be engrossed without a chance to escape. Which he can't, lest he gives everything up.

Where CCC was party metal with a touch of eurodance, ICIP definitely belongs to an insane rave. It reminds me of Dutch hardstyle, dubstep and a touch of eurodance until the end, which screams industrial/nu metal to me, only adding to the concept of hammering and exhausting work/lifestyle.

We could say that It's Crazy it's Party is the Välikuolema to Cha Cha Cha's Viuliunkieli, in a way.

Jere is a storyteller in most of his songs, and it's clear he likes such narratives to carry on between different tracks (i.e: I think the Viulunkieli/Välikuolema narrative carries on to Morgan), so it's only fair to assume the two songs combined tell a whole story.

Further speculation: Jere has often said he's really tired in this precise moment - the relentless touring throughout summer is obviously taking a toll on him, no matter how much he can love what he does. It would be exhausting for anyone. Plus, the "ghost" of ESC follows him everywhere: sometimes I get the feeling many people perceive him as the CCC-guy rather than the complete artist he is, so maybe he's trying to change this.

As many people already said, the story Mikke posted with the grave being dug could hint at the burial of green-bolero-Käärijä. I don't believe Jere is denying the fame and good things it has brought, but he's probably willing to turn the page and carry on with something new (and probably take a long, well deserved break). Or maybe the MV will just be homoerotic softp-rn featuring a grave, WHO KNOWS. I just know I can't wait to see what's next. I love ESC-Käärija (without CCC I wouldn't even be aware of his existence, so I'm forever grateful) and that love will forever be a part of me, but I also welcome this change with open arms in hopes to see him grow more and more.

Conclusion: the speculation is very real and material and I am very very cringe <33

[alittlebitofloveliness]

OKAY outside of Dallas and Johnny, I think Two-Bit is one of the sadder characters of the Curtis gang. Like YES his home life isn’t as bad as Johnny’s, and he doesn’t want to watch the world burn like Dallas. But Two-Bit is such a self destructive character if you think about it. Yeah he doesn’t hurt anyone, but he does hurt himself. Especially since addiction is a core part of him as a character.

I think a lot about his family too and how sad the dynamics of his family COULD be. Well depending on how you view them. Two-Bit is genuinely a good guy, but he carry’s so much hurt that he can’t help BUT he self destructive. Unknowingly to Two I think that habit causes harm to the people around him too, like potentially his sister.

I just— Two-Bit Matthews the guy you are…I think you and your sister may be doomed by the narrative.

Two-bit is SO tragic, I've said it before and I'll say it again, he's just as violent as Dallas, he just turns that violence on himself instead of projecting it outwards. I think one of the cleverest parts of Hinton's writing and showing us The Outsiders from Ponyboy's point of view is that as an audience we fall for Two-bit's facade the way Pony and the gang and pretty much everyone does. Two-bit uses humour as a coping mechanism and it works, it works so well we rarely if ever see any characters worrying about him because he's funny, easygoing Two-bit with his cartoons and his beer bottle. Nevermind the fact he's nineteen and an an alcoholic, and that the 'laziness' Pony repeatedly remarks to be a part of his character just often sounds like a hallmark of undiagnosed depression running rampant. This is a kid whose dad left and his mom is hardly around, who lost four people who were very close to him in a short period of time, and watched a bunch of other guys he considers his brothers change so fundamentally that they're hardly the same people he knew growing up. Like everyone in the gang he has a lot of trauma that he has no healthy way of ever dealing with.

As for his sister, I GENUINELY meant it when I said she is maybe THE most tragic character in the Outsiders and she gets like, one mention. But I just feel so bad for this little girl. She's a girl growing up on the rough side of Tulsa, whose dad left and whose mom works so much she hardly has anytime to see her let alone hear about any problems she may be having. Her older brother, who's supposed to look out for her, is a drunk, too preoccupied playing happy family with his gang of friends to actually BE family to her. (I know a lot of people think two-bit would be the best big brother ever. I 100% don't.) She grows up and no one has time for her. By the time she's ten she's used to tucking Two-bit into bed when he stumbles home drunk, knows to turn him on his side and put a trashcan beside him for when he pukes. She watches at school as he ruffles Ponyboy Curtis' hair and wishes more than anything in the world she'd been born a boy, because apparently kid brothers- even fake ones- are more fun than kid sisters, and maybe if she was a boy he'd actually want to hang out with her. He stumbles inside one day after the worst day of her life and doesn't even notice anything is wrong. Two weeks later he slurs out that he'll always be here for her and she doesn't know how to explain that he's never been here for her, not really. just. Agh. Susie Mathews is so tragic because she is so alone and so incredibly VULNERABLE and someone could so easily see that and take advantage of it. (I'm working on a fic about her right now because she deserves her story to be told)

Anyway. Thanks for the ask!

[rorimoon9597]

TW: nightmare, mentions of medication (if that might upset anyone) and implied death/murder and shit that Galra did to prisoners.

Loving Takashi Shirogane was never going to be easy. Adam knew that when he was a teenager, and he knew that when Takashi's illness was diagnosed as terminal.

Adam knew that now, after reuniting with Takashi after six (or was it seven? He lost count while in that prison) years. Takashi's hair was white, he had so many scars, and he was in his clone's body. Not only that, but his arm was one that Pidge had made with the help of Coran and Hunk in case his other arm was cut off.

So Adam knew that Takashi wasn't the same. Some of the officers called him insane for loving Takashi. Matt just grinned and congratulated him on getting back with Takashi.

Knowing this, and having seen a few horrors of the Galra prisons himself, he was prepared for Takashi to have nightmares.

It never meant that it was easy for either of them to deal with them.

Takashi woke up from a nightmare. It also woke up Adam, who was instantly by Takashi's side.

"Takashi? Hey, Takashi, you're okay. I'm here, you're safe," Adam said. He gently pulled Takashi to his chest, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. "It's okay, love, I'm here. You're safe now, you got out of there, remember?"

"Adam?" Takashi asked. He was breathing too fast.

"It's me, Takashi." Adam turned on the lights, just enough to provide a small amount of light. "What are five things you can see?" He asked.

"Blanket... the lights... the wall... desk... chair..."

"Good. Four things you can feel?"

"You... the blankets... my shirt... your shirt..." Takashi's breathing was calmer now. Still not even, but calmer.

"Three things you can hear?"

"Your breathing... the Atlas... my voice..."

"Two things you smell."

"Your shampoo and sweat." That made Adam screw up his nose.

"Gross," he commented. Takashi huffed a laugh. "Name one thing you can taste."

"Dinner." Adam pressed a kiss to Takashi's hair.

"Feeling better?" He asked. Takashi nodded.

"Yeah... Yeah, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear that. Do you... do you want to talk about it?" Takashi was silent for a while. Adam didn't expect Takashi to talk, but the therapist that the Garrison had hired for the crew had told them both that it was better to talk.

Didn't mean that it was easy, though.

"Sometimes... I remember... what... what I went through. I remembered how... how I tried to help an elderly man. They... they forced me to-"

"You don't have to say it," Adam said. Takashi adjusted himself so that he could bury his face in Adam's chest.

"It was horrible," Takashi whispered.

"You did what you had to, Takashi. I know that you did. I went through something similar, remember?" Takashi looked up at him.

"How do you deal with it?" He asked. Adam shrugged.

"I talk to a therapist, look for healthy coping mechanisms, talk to Matt about our experiences... That kind of thing, you know?"

"Yeah..." Takashi rested his head on Adam's chest again.

"Do you think that you can go to sleep after that nightmare?" Adam asked. He ran his hands through Takashi's hair.

"I don't know..."

"Do you want to take your meds?" Takashi nodded.

"Alright. I'll go get them." Takashi let him get up and head into the bathroom to grab the medication and some water. He handed both to Takashi, who took the pills and drained the glass, then climbed back into bed.

Takashi fell asleep again after that, curled up like a cat next to Adam. There was a furrow in his brow, which Adam smoothed out with the pad of his thumb. He pressed another kiss to his head.

"I love you, Takashi."

Adam went back to sleep after that.