#why am I insane and hoping people try to reach out to me anyways??? just to say they are here if I need anything?? like I do to them????

[inkedbybarnes]

anything

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.

i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷

dividers by @cafekitsune!

reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡

“can you please let me in, baby?"

that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.

“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”

your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.

“just because you're what? sick?”

you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.

“how did you open the door?”

bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”

you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”

“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”

“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”

“like what?"

“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”

you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.

“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”

with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.

“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”

you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.

you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.

“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”

you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.

bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.

“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”

“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”

“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”

this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"

"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."

you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.

“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”

“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.

“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”

“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”

“anything?”

he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."

( a lil bonus < 3 )

“what is that smell?”

sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.

the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.

sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.

“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"

"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."

“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”

their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.

"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."

"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.

bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."

"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"

bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."

clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."

"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"

"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."

"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."

bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[msmk11]

hi lovely!!

okay okay you know i'm IN LOVE with your Tangerine writings and i'm in big need of some good Tan hurt and comfort 😋😚 so if this is okay, the premise of my request is Tan being super aloof and seemingly uninterested in reader, like borderline mean, but the moment another dude shows an interest or she's in danger, he goes insane. like fully does anything to protect her and keep her as his!!

obviously feel free to ignore this if no inspiration strikes 🫶 sending my love! also no rush if you do think you wanna write it!

More Than I Should

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.4k

CW: drinking, partying

A/n: Hello my lovely Sky! Thank you SO much for requesting my dear. I don’t think I went as heavy on the tension as I could’ve, but I just think he’s such a big softie for reader that it’s hard!! I hope you enjoy and that it lives up to your expectations!!

“Well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite assassins.”

Tangerine and Lemon look up at you from their seats at the bar, mild surprise crossing their faces.

“Didn’t fancy you two to be people who spent their Fridays at a pub.”

Lemon snorts, “I reckon my bruv’s not, but I am. Love to people watch.”

You smile faintly at Tangerine, polite but detached. It’s not to say that you’re uninterested in the mysterious mustached man, but rather he’s always been aloof towards you.

“Alright Tangerine?”

He nods, “good as I can be.”

Lemon looks you over, eyeing your slightly more revealing clothes- fit for a night on the town, “and what are you up to?”

Across the room is a small group of your friends from university, sitting around a table picking at appetizers, “going out with some friends tonight. Reckon I need to let off some steam after all these jobs I’ve been put on.”

He chuckles, “I feel ya.”

“Well I uh, just thought I’d say hello. But I’m sure I’ll see you later?”

Tangerine gives you a neutral nod and Lemon fist bumps you before you turn and head back over to your friends, joining in on their rowdiness.

“Who were you talking to,” your old roommate, Sarah, slurs.

You wave her off, “just two coworkers.”

“So you just forgot to mention that you work with the sexiest men alive,” she replies, ogling Tangerine and Lemon equally, “Are they available?”

You nearly choke on your drink and Tyler, who is sitting to your right, pats you on the back.

“The fuck if I know,” you cough out, “I like to keep things professional, thank you very much.”

“Thank god they’re not my coworkers,” Natalie, who is across from you, adds, “I’d like to do some very unprofessional things to them.”

You groan and chug the rest of your vodka cran, “I’m gonna need a lot more drinks to deal with these two.”

Tyler agrees and hands you his card, “go get us some shots?”

The smooth plastic presses against your palm as Tyler places the silver card into your hand. You nod and kiss him on the cheek, promising to return soon. As the night has carried on, the crowd has only thickened, and you have to use your elbows to push through the swarm of people.

When you reach the other side of the room you call out to a bartender who is available and give her your order. Before you can hand over Tyler’s card, however, a voice interrupts you.

“Give me four more shots will ya. And put them on my tab.”

Tangerine stands next to you, a firm look on his face as you glance at him.

“Trying to steal my drinks?”

You swear a slight smirk plays on his lips.

“Just being friendly.”

A grin breaks out on your face, “I didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary. But anyways, thanks. Although I suppose Tyler should really be the one to thank you. He was supposed to pay.”

The brunette’s eyes flick across the room to your group of friends, “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Tyler?” You laugh, “no way. He’s just a friend from school. Why do you wanna know?”

“Well, usually, if a man pays for a girl’s drinks voluntarily, he likes her.”

“But you paid for-“

You’re cut off, however, when the bartender returns with your shots in hand. You balance the tiny glasses between your fingers, hoping the sticky drinks don’t spill on your way back to your seat.

“Wanna join us?” You ask Tangerine.

“Suppose I don’t have a choice, seeing as Lem has already been kidnapped by your friends.”

Sure enough, Lemon has been crammed into the booth between Sarah and Natalie, the two of them fawning over him. Not that he seems to mind much.

“Jesus Christ,” you curse, pushing back through the crowd.

Tangerine follows behind you to the table, his and Lemon’s shots in his hands. You set the glasses down in relief when you arrive and pull Tyler’s card from your pocket, returning it to him.

“I see you’ve made some friends, Lemon,” you smirk, before giving a warning glance to Sarah and Natalie.

“He looked so lonely!” Natalie protests, “we couldn’t leave him alone!”

“I think he would’ve survived,” you say, rolling your eyes, “But alas. I think proper introductions are in order. Everyone, these are my coworkers Tangerine and Lemon. Tangerine and Lem, these are my friends Tyler, Sarah, Natalie, and Chris.”

They all exchange polite greetings, though Sarah’s are more friendly and Tangerine’s less so. You move to slide into the booth next to Tyler but freeze. There’s only one spot left on the bench but two people to fit in. And it seems there are no extra chairs in sight.

“Oh this is gonna be a problem…” you murmur.

“You can just sit on my lap, if you want,” Tyler offers.

“That’s not necessary. I can just squeeze in on the edge,” Tangerine offers gruffly.

You shake your head, “No, no, I will. I invited you over. It’s not a problem, really.”

The brunette attempts to protest but you resist, gently pushing him into the seat. You slide onto the edge next to him, your arms squished together. You shuffle a little, trying to get comfortable.

“Here.”

Tangerine carefully lifts his arm up and wraps it around your shoulders, giving you more room on the seat while tucked into his side.

“Better?”

His lips are close to your ear and his gaze intent, and you can’t help but shudder a little.

“Better.”

He nods and looks away from you, his attention caught by the incessant questions pouring from Tyler and Chris’ mouths.

Lemon is similarly preoccupied with Sarah, but Natalie is staring straight at you, her eyes flitting excitedly between you and Tangerine.

‘Oh my god!’ She mouths.

You stare at her, perplexed.

‘He totally likes you!’

You almost snort, her suggestion so preposterous you can’t help but laugh.

‘No way,’ you mouth back ‘he barely talks to me at work, let alone like me.’

Natalie only huffs, rolling her eyes, ‘you’re in denial.’

You scoff and shake your head, picking up a shot and throwing it back. You tune into the conversations happening next to you, but the constant warmth of Tangerine at your side distracts you more than you’d like to admit.

*****

A chill night at the pub has quickly turned into full on rallying, your hoard of misfits stumbling from bar to bar in search of drinks and maybe someone to warm their bed on this chilly night.

Unsurprisingly, Lemon has joined in with the chaos. Surprisingly, Tangerine has too- though he doesn’t seem all that happy about it. You don’t mind his mood, not really. It’s a little endearing, frankly. And anyhow, you’re used to it. It’s just funny to see in the current setting. The club is full of raging, drunk idiots, your friends included and yourself on the precipice. Yet, amongst it all is Tangerine- sober, stoic, and commanding.

Throughout the evening Sarah and Lemon have paired up as well as Natalie and Chris- and you pray the latter doesn’t make things messy again. This leaves you sandwiched between Tyler and Tangerine, the two remarkably opposite yet their attentions both fixed on you.

Loud bass thumps throughout the room and you jump along, your feet just slightly sticking to the sticky floor beneath you. Tyler is singing and dancing along with you, but you haven’t quite been able to convince Tangerine to do the same.

The former grabs your hand and spins you around. It forces a giggle past your lips but also makes you dizzy. You stumble out of the spin and the floor comes rushing towards you. You brace for impact, but it never comes. Instead, a pair of hands grab your waist, stopping your descent. They pull you up gently and turn you around. It’s Tangerine.

“Careful there.”

You chuckle nervously, “lost my footing. Maybe spinning and alcohol isn’t such a good combo.”

His mustache twitches and he hums in agreement, “maybe not.”

“You okay, love?” Tyler asks, tapping you on the shoulder.

Tangerine’s grip on your waist tightens barely, the action almost unnoticeable it’s so subtle. You’d gasp if it wasn’t in Tyler’s line of vision.

“Hmm yeah, fine. Just lost my footing.”

“Maybe I should hold onto you tighter,” he chuckles with a wink.

Tangerine’s grip tightens again, but this time it’s far from subtle. You look back at him, your brows furrowed in confusion, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s staring at Tyler, something dark and dangerous brewing behind his blue eyes. It’s a look you’ve seen before, in the field. A murderous one. You don’t know what it’s all about, but you don’t bother to ask. You respond to Tyler with a halfhearted giggle before moving to diffuse the tension.

“I love this song,” you cheer enthusiastically. You remove Tangerine’s hands from your waist and grab them with your own, “lighten up and dance with me, Tan.”

His eyes dart back to you and he grimaces. You only give him a warning glare to keep it together and he sighs, giving in. Tangerine dances, but stiffly. He lacks any real rhythm or fluidity, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes.

“What’s funny?” He huffs, squinting at you.

“N-nothing, nothing.”

You bust out laughing and he freezes.

“You fucking laughing at me?”

He doesn’t look angry, not really, but disbelieving.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You- don’t know how to dance, do you?”

Tangerine huffs and looks around before looking over your head at Tyler. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his credit card, “get us some drinks, will ya? On me.”

“What?” Tyler asks, scoffing a little.

“Get us some drinks, mate, yeah?”

Tyler scoffs again, “I can pay myself I-“

“Tyler, take the free drinks,” you warn.

‘Please’ you mouth.

He sighs and takes Tangerine’s card bitterly before stalking off towards the bar. Your eyes follow him out of sight, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. You’re too distracted to notice that the brunette has fully refocused his attention on you. He grips your waist suddenly and pulls you flush against him. This time, you do gasp audibly. Your head whips around and your noses brush, you’re so close.

“What’re you?”

“I’m showing you how to really dance.”

Tangerine proceeds to guide you through a series of steps, and you’re equal parts shocked and entranced. Despite the sticky floors, loud noises, and swarming crowd, you are only focused on Tangerine- the musky scent of his cologne, his blue eyes piercing yours, the firm grip of his hands, and his warmth right up against your front.

“Where’d you learn-“

He interrupts you by sending you into a dip. When he pulls you up again, he spins you and then grabs your hips to catch you. You’ve returned to your original positions, nose to nose, but now you’re panting heavily.

You can’t tell if it’s from the dancing or Tangerine.

“And that’s how a real partner spins you,” the brunette grumbles, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Right-“

“Drinks, anyone?!”

Tyler’s voice breaks the thick tension between you and Tangerine, and you accept the distraction gratefully. You spin around and grab the sweaty bottle, taking a long sip.

*****

Tangerine hates all of your friends. Okay, that’s a lie, he only hates Tyler. But he is mad at all of them. What sorta friends are you hanging out with that they leave you all alone in a bar? Okay, not alone. He is with you. And Tyler. But still? Frankly, he hasn’t seen any of those pricks in hours, including his own brother. You’re really drunk and Tyler is not far behind, and Tangerine’s about had enough of it all.

He’s checking his watch for the umpteenth time when he hears your murmur something about getting another drink.

“I think that’s about enough, love,” Tangerine interrupts, “you probably need to be getting home.”

You turn and look at him, your eyes softening into a big pout. He commits the precious look to memory but swears to never bring it up. Sober you would be beyond embarrassed.

“N-nooo, fine. I’ll be fine-“ you hiccup.

The brunette assesses you knowingly, “I don’t think so. Come on, I’ll call an uber to take us all back to our places.”

You stare at Tangerine with squinting eyes, like you’re trying to put him into focus.

“Fineeee, Mr. Moneypants. Come on, Tyler, we’re leaving.”

Your friend looks at you, “what? We’re not rallying to the next bar?”

You shake your head slowly, “time for bed, Ty.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and Tangerine clenches his jaw.

“I’ll get us an Uber?”

You pat Tyler on the chest, “not necessary. Tan is getting us one.”

Tyler rolls his eyes and moves his arm away, “alright fine, let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, the uber pulls up and Tyler takes the passenger seat, leaving you and Tangerine in the back. He guides you to the car and opens the door, gently helping you in so you don’t fall. He follows behind, taking a seat, and you collapse into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Another thing he won’t mention.

Tyler gives instructions to what Tangerine assumes is his apartment, and the car sets off.

Not much later the car comes to a slow halt and Tyler gets out of the car. He peeks his head back in, “come on, love. You coming?”

You drowsily stir from your place on Tangerine’s shoulder. “Mmm? No, I’m going home.”

Tyler sighs, “come on, why don’t you just stay the night? I’ll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed.”

“No Tyler! I wanna go home!”

“Sweetheart-“

“She said she wants to go home, mate. Let it go.”

“And you’re gonna make sure she gets in safely,” Tyler asks rather bitterly.

“Stop the violence,” you mutter nonsensically, and the two hot-headed men look at you.

“Fine, whatever.” Tyler shuts the door and the car speeds off to your place.

Tangerine has no faith you will safely get from this car to your bed, so he pays the driver and gets out with you, supporting you around the waist as you stumble up the steps to your flat. You fumble for your keys in your purse, muttering curses as you shiver in the cold.

“Found it!”

You beam proudly, but then promptly drop them onto the concrete.

“Shit!”

“Here, let me, love.”

Tangerine bends down and grabs them before unlocking the door.

You step inside and he follows suit, careful to lock the door. Your place is homey, and undoubtedly suited to your taste. It even smells like you, and he can’t help but feel relaxed. He sets your keys on the coffee table and lets you lead him down the hall.

You stumble as Tangerine guides you into your room and onto the bed. He bends down on one knee, untying your shoes.

“Why don’t you like me?”

The brunette freezes, your question sending shivers down his spine. “What?”

“Y-you don’t like me Tangerine. And I don’t get it. Why? What have I ever done to you?”

He finally loosens the tie and peels your shoe off before starting on the other.

“Love, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. Who said I didn’t like you?”

“Well you did. Okay maybe you didn’t say it. But you said it with your eyes. And the way you never talk to me or acknowledge me. I mean I’m not asking to be your best friend but…”

“You’ve got it all sorts of backwards, sweetheart.”

He pulls off your other shoe, “you have something to sleep in?”

“Oh no I usually sleep naked-“ you answer honestly, reaching for the hem of your shirt.

Tangerine grips your wrists, “that’s alright, you can wait til I’m gone.”

He’s grateful you’re drunk enough to not see him blush. The brunette gently pushes you backwards to lay down and throws your comforter over top of you. He moves towards the door.

“Wait, don’t leave!”

“I’m not, sweetheart, I’m just going to go get you some water.”

You relax back into your bed and nod sleepily.

When Tangerine returns with a glass in hand, you’re still. You’re even breathing tells him you’re asleep, so he simply sets the cup on your night stand and bends down, checking once more that you’re okay.

His eyes trail over your face. It’s softer than he’s ever witnessed before and his heart clenches painfully. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep and your lips have rested in a pout. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Unable to resist, he reaches out and cups your face, dusting his thumb across your cheekbone once, twice, three times before pulling away.

“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart,” he murmurs aloud, “I don’t hate you. I like you too much for my own good.”

Tangerine stands and leaves, shutting the door softly behind him.

What he doesn’t see is your eyes fluttering open at the click of the door.

*****

I like you too much for my own good…

The words spin in your head over and over til you think you’re going to be sick. You sit up and grab the cup of water Tangerine left, taking multiple gulps. Only when you feel a little bit of calm do you finally climb out of bed. It’s a quiet, peaceful morning, opposite of your racing heart.

You trudge down the hall to your kitchen to whip up some coffee and trip over a pair of shoes.

“Fuck!”

You throw your hands out to catch yourself but you don’t hit the ground. A pair of arms catch you.

“How many times am I going to have do that?”

Tangerine is half on your couch, a smirk- an actual smirk- on his face.

You sigh and groan, sitting down onto the floor, “okay that wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who left your shoes in the middle of my floor. In my flat. Remind me, why are you here?”

Tangerine lets go of your waist and pulls back, sitting up stiffly.

“Well I went to take you to bed last night ‘cos you were fucking hammered, and when I tried to leave, the Uber was gone. I… didn’t fucking feel like calling another… and your couch looked comfy… and I was worri- I wanted to make sure someone was here in case you were too drunk.”

Your heart swells, “you were worried about me? I’m starting to think maybe you don’t totally hate me.”

Your reminded of his words again and you freeze, catching his gaze.

“What?”

“Did you know… that I was awake last night. When you came back with the glass of water.”

The brunette grows impossibly stiff, “so you heard…”

“You like me more than you should?”

He sighs and restlessly runs his hand through his hair, “fuck me. Yeah. I’m- fucking Christ, sorry.”

You pull yourself up onto your knees, so that you’re closer to him, “because you’re sorry you said it? Or because you’re sorry I heard it?”

Tangerine grunts and looks down, sniffling, “The latter.”

Heat courses through your body at your confession and you tentatively place a hand on his knee. His head shoots up, his blue eyes looking at you in surprise and… something else. You hold his gaze, hoping your eyes communicate the desire humming through your body.

“Fuck,” he curses, before reaching out and grabbing your waist. This time, when he pulls you in, he kisses you gruffly, and you groan in surprise.

His mustache scratches your upper lip, but it’s not unpleasant. You run your hands up his sides to his shoulders, using his sturdy frame for balance as you stand and straddle his lap. He’s the one to groan this time, his grip bruising as he deepens the kiss.

Everything in this moment feels so good and perfectly right. Your body is alive, thrumming with excitement and desire and passion, and you’re pretty sure you could kiss this man forever and ever. In this moment, you’d do anything he asked.

So, you pull away, pacing yourself.

Tangerine groans as he rests his head on yours, “I wasn’t finished with you, sweetheart.”

“Take your time, Tangerine. We’ve got all day. And luckily, I like you more than I should.”

[doberbutts]

hello! I'm the one that sent you that ask a week or so ago. Sorry I didn't check to see if you'd answered for a while because I was just so upset and had to take a second. I will say I scrolled through a bunch of helpful posts you reblogged before I even found the ask again that helped a LOT.

Two things I thought you might want to know is that it wasn't speculation that you'd blocked the weirdo blog that sent me your way: they literally have "proudly blocked by doberbutts" in their bio which was why i felt safe coming to you lmao. Second is I guess my struggle with this issue was an overall struggle with how bad wider misogyny has gotten in general and how muddied it's gotten with the "male loneliness crisis" and like, centering men's issues under patriarchy and just how insanely upset it's been making me. Seeing cis MRAs identify with trans men freaked me out because like, yeah it's important to talk about how (cis) men suffer under patriarchy but it's just so rare for me to find men do that without devolving into misogyny, and I start to feel so helpless because I know validating these issues matter but women are being literally dehumanized openly. I do play oppression olympics with this specific issue and just of COURSE women suffer more under patriarchy, but the same men who demand space to air how they suffer won't acknowledge that truth. (sorry for soapboxing; some of them do! It's just...things are so bad for women rn lol it's really hard to have compassion when it feels like none is being given to me).

So the more I see this issue the more I think people are being affected by larger misogyny like I am, but are doing the typical thing that happens where you lash out at a group you can "reach." Policing and harassing trans men's behaviours is way easier than cis men. I've also been seeing some parallels between this discourse and the "gay men vs lesbian women" discourse. It's not really a one-to-one but the discussion of the role of misogyny re homophobia towards gay men who still have male privilege but, come on, if they have feminine affectation it's Different and the back and forth that used to happen when gay men and lesbian women did oppression olympics, it just feels similar.

idk as i type this I hope I don't come across disingenuous or like, my Too Casual Overly Respectful tone is trying to subtly incept you. I worry my vibes are too "women first" but I just can't help it misogyny really is ruining my life 😭. Anyways I'm very grateful for your perspective and your blog. I feel more settled and equipped to push back against anti transmasculine behaviour with rhetoric that can actually challenge people

To respond to each point in turn:

1: Again I still don't really know who that is, though I am somewhat bemused by the idea that someone I clearly don't really remember is still so obsessed with me that they're proud I've blocked them. For the record, my block list is as follows: people who send anonymous hate, people who continue to harass me after I've told them to stop, people I catch with posts containing inexcusable bigotry, obvious trolls, self-identified zoophiles and MAPs, and people who repeatedly send me fundraisers after I have already said I only share fundraisers from people I know and trust. Being on my block list is, um, not really good company, so it's kind of funny to me that someone is proud to be there. Yeah I'm sure they'll fit right in with the neo-nazis and dogfuckers and cyber bullies. Oh and I guess my ex but I only blocked them after they started harassing me about our failed relationship years later. Enjoy block hell I suppose.

2: I'm not really here to play who has it worse, not because I don't recognize the wider understanding of privilege vs oppression but because I think it is a self-defeating thread of thought because you will always find a "more oppressed" example, and I think that people should be allowed to talk about their hurts regardless of their status of "more oppressed" vs "less oppressed". Talking about the ways society has hurt them is not what makes MRAs dangerous. What makes them dangerous is who they blame, how they go about fixing their problem, and the solutions to their problems they come up with.

To be quite frank, the majority of MRAs are men who have experienced some form of social rejection or isolation. Most have been sold some patriarchal lie about how by being men they inherently deserve good sex with hot women on demand, a wife at home to keep barefoot and pregnant, a high paying job where they are respected and valued regardless of the effort they themselves put into it, and all the luxuries that lifestyle can afford. This is a fantasy, you and I both know it. And when these men realize the hard reality that we live in an age of extreme social isolation, that in order to have a partner you need to actually have more personality than a used dishrag and with only half the mess at max, that good sex is about give and take and not just yourself, that these high paying jobs are few and far between with most takers being born into some level of wealth rather than any merit they themselves have earned... they lash out.

It does not at all help things to understand that many of these MRAs are themselves marginalized in some way, but their framework not only doesn't let them see it but also advocates a harsh rejection of anyone who is self-aware enough to realize it. A lot of these guys are undiagnosed, have trauma, and are just as affected by the systems of racism, classism, homo- and trans-phobia, xenophobia, sexism, and ableism as the rest of us.

Quite frankly, I'd rather these dudes see a group of (trans) men fighting for our place in society by joining hands with other activists with more feminist, black-friendly, disabled-friendly, gay- and trans-friendly in an attempt to lift everyone out of the pit rather than continuing to fight over scraps... than to see them continue to blame women and Jews and then go shoot up a school or a mall about it. One of these helps. The other just kills people and excuses rape. There's a lot of value in deradicalizing people by offering them a path to resolving their pain that is perhaps less destructive and more constructive.

This is also why the constant comparison to MRAs annoys me. MRAs kill people in senseless acts of terror and despair because they're upset that they're not having the sex fantasy the patriarchy sold them. Trans men talking about our oppression- regardless of the word we use to express it- are mostly talking amongst ourselves about suicide and rape statistics and sharing ways to get hormones and surgery despite unwilling doctors and insurance companies. We're talking about how our social groups rejected us the moment we came out, or how people use us being men against us in ways that was not happening before we came out or passed. These are not at all equivalent conversations.

3: Again I ask you- I see people using both cis and trans feminist frameworks to hurt other people. Where is your concern for that? I am equally concerned about TERFs as I am about MRAs, as they have driven multiple transgender people and our allies to suicide and even have committed acts of violence against people irl as a result of their ideology. Most TERFs will also be the first ones to tell you that they have been hurt, deeply, by men and that they also are frequently undiagnosed or untreated, traumatized, and affected by the same systems of oppression. Does their existence and their determination to latch onto every feminist conversation including those of people who are staunchly against them then poison all feminism to you? If not, then why make that distinction for trans men and MRAs?

I am black. I am Indigenous. I am transgender. I am gay. I am disabled. I am poor. I suffer. People hurt me. I see every day how bad things are. Do you think I cannot see it, or that my ignorance is the reason for my request for compassion? Perhaps consider that it is rather my knowledge and my lived experience that fuel my call for compassion, instead. I never said it would be easy. But I do think it would make a better world.

4: I do actually agree that it is very similar to the gay man vs lesbian conversation and have said for a while that it's the same queer infighting discussion we've already hashed out for the last 50 or so years, but the target groups just swapped out. It's just butchphobia, it's just biphobia, it's just aphobia, it's just panphobia, it's just nbphobia- it's the same fucking shit over and over and over again. It was shit infighting before and it's shit infighting now. Privilege is a conversation that depends so heavily on context, and the way it has been bastardized by the internet's poor understanding of political frameworks developed by women of color and their allies into cute soundbites and phrases rather than a deep, nuanced knowledge will never fail to annoy me.

Do gay men have privilege over lesbians? As a class, sure, they would have male privilege. But what do we mean by male privilege? The privilege to not worry about being assaulted on the street? To walk home late at night unbothered? To marry who they want, to have the romantic partner they desire, to feel safe within a domestic partnership? You and I both know that doesn't quite match up to the lived experience of gay men worldwide or even here in the "gay paradise" US. How does this interact with other marginalizations? Does a black gay man have privilege over a white lesbian? What happens if he's a drag queen dressed up for an event and she's a butch that passes for cis male? Does that change retroactively if this "gay man" figures out she's actually a transbian 5 years later, and the lesbian is a TERF? I'm not saying this breaks the framework of male privilege- I am saying that sometimes the theory doesn't match the reality, and a nuanced and intersectional understanding is required when talking on an individual scope rather than class politics.

Additionally- as a side note- it is also incredibly annoying to watch people act like privilege = oppressor = dangerous, and oppressed = victim = safe. Privilege, and whether or not you have any, is not a moral indicator nor is it an indicator of the safety of the person you're interacting with. I have privilege over people who cannot walk, because I can. I am not objectively or systemically oppressing people who cannot walk by the use of my legs in my day-to-day life. Oppression is action- if I vote for policies and politicians that removes ramps and safety regulations and provisions to assist wheelchair users? Now I am oppressing people who cannot walk. If I block or move or interfere with the disability aids, if I mock people or assault or harm them, if I dump them out of their mobility aids or break them, that is oppression. The act of climbing the 3 stairs on my front porch to get into my house is a privilege, but the oppression stems from the people who built my house to even have stairs on both exits.

5: lastly to end a very long post, I don't actually think there's any harm in centering yourself when discussing things that objectively affect you, as long as you remember to include others who are affected and let them have their floor to also center themselves when they need to speak up. I am a black trans man. My politics are pretty centered on black feminism. I don't think that is objectively a bad thing. I prefer to let the demographics with similar problems speak for themselves- I would rather my trans fem friends get the mic when they open their mouths, my lesbian friends, my Jewish friends, my latino and asian and arab friends. I don't think there's anything wrong with them centering their own problems and outlooks, as long as they recognize that there's shared space to be had with others who feel similar hurts. I think it's pretty normal to center yourself. I think the difficult thing is knowing when to relinquish the megaphone to someone who's been dying to use it, while you yourself still have so much to say.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Don't Worry Today, Face It Tomorrow

kai parker x reader

summary: kai's been lonely enough in his life to sense something's off with you. tonight was a good time to trust his intuition.

tags: mental health issues, depression, loneliness, late night conversations, suicidal thoughts, emotional hurt / comfort

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this is a fic i kind of wrote for myself but still want to share. i somewhat vaguely made the reader's problems my problems, because i needed to talk them out, but struggle to do that with people, so i do it through my writing. i wrote this a little while ago but have been hesitant to post it bc i didn't want to worry my readers by posting so many sui/sh related fics, but as explained in the ending note of this fic on ao3, i'm entering a new stage in my life where i hope i can start writing gentler & more lighthearted & fun fics again. i've been in a dark place these last couple months and have completely lost myself as a person, but i'm actively trying to make my life one where i'm not afraid to be present. i saw a quote recently that said, "...if hope is out of reach, try curiosity instead," and so that's about where i am rn. but anyway, i hope, despite it's heaviness, you guys like this, or maybe, it helps you feel less alone. <3

“Thought I’d find you here.”

You roll your eyes at the familiar voice. Of course he’d come to disturb your peace. 

“What do you want?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. The sound of shuffling indicates he’s coming closer. “Just checking on you.”

“I don’t need checking on. I didn’t the last time, nor the time before that, and certainly not this time. Can’t you catch the hint that I want to be left alone?”

“See that’s the thing… the hints are all there, I’m just choosing not to leave you alone.”

Fully irritated now, you shift your whole body to face Kai. Annoyingly, he leans against the restaurant’s chimney, unbothered by the heat that must be emanating from it. His arms are crossed over his chest, but his usual smirk is replaced with a somber look.

“Why?”

“Because…” He isn’t looking at you. In fact, he seems to look right through you, perhaps into some far off world or a deep void that threatens to swallow you whole. “...You look like someone who shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve climbed up here five times in the last two weeks. You’ve been acting distant. You don’t eat, I doubt you sleep. Everyone’s worried about you, and they have every right to be.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “Maybe I just like it up here. I can see the whole town. I’m in it, without being in it. It’s peaceful.”

If that was supposed to comfort the young witch, it didn’t. He tilts his head against the brick. “And what about the rest? Are they right to worry about you? Are these new habits you’ve seem to have adopted secretly a cry for help?”

You narrow your eyes. “Of course not, that’s insane. I told you, I’m fine.” Before he can ask anything else, you continue. “And what’s it to you? Why do you care? If they’re so worried, why don’t they come and bother me instead?”

“Because they haven’t followed you to the extent I’ve followed you.”

“Comforting.”

“They see you at lunch, not talking, not eating, not laughing. And then they see you go home, usually early, and not come out for days. They acknowledge the fact you haven’t answered their texts in days, and they know you’re not feeling well, but they’ve barely scratched the surface.” He pauses. “I’ve been studying you. I see the dullness in your eyes, and I can tell apart a real laugh from a fake one. I’ve begun to notice that right before you’re about to make up an excuse to go home, you tap your nails on the edge of the table. You scan the restaurant, making sure the coast is clear, so that you can make a sure shot to the door without being interrupted.” You open your mouth to speak, disturbed by the detail, but Kai interrupts. “I’m a sociopath. I notice things in a person’s behavior that are missed by most.”

“And why do you think all these ‘things’ are reasons to have you so worried? Maybe I’m just tired of socializing.”

“Maybe. But I’ve been alone for a long time and I know how it feels. How it feels to be hopeless, and anxious, and exhausted, in a way that goes beyond needing a couple more hours of sleep. I might not’ve been under the same circumstances, but I remember searching for the nearest, tallest building several times when I was locked in that prison world. Let me tell you, the view is nice, but when you finally get the courage to walk up to the edge, the fall is not.”

Your eyes had dropped back down the roof’s floor, but they snap back up to him quickly. His words make your heart race with sudden anxiety. When you try to open your mouth to respond, nothing comes out. It takes a moment to recover. 

“How many times did you try?” Invasive, but he’s sharing, so you ask anyway. 

“Truth be told,” he surprisingly answers, “I lost count.” He inches closer to you, but you don’t move away. “I couldn’t die in there, but that never stopped me from trying.”

“Until Damon and Bonnie got there.” 

“Yes, but I was alone for eighteen years until they did.” He sits beside you now. “Maybe you can see why I was so determined to get out.”

“I could see it before,” you admit. 

You know most of Kai’s background. You know he had a big family, most of which are dead now. You know he has been in and out of prison worlds for most of his young life. You know his time spent in those other worlds was deserved; he wasn’t just a sociopath, but a serial killer, as well. Only recently did he finally stop hurting people, afraid of ending up in another one. It was a deal he made with the brothers and Bonnie.

Kai is less afraid of death than being alone. Hell would be a cakewalk compared to the prison worlds. 

“My father ensured I couldn’t die so that I wouldn’t be able to take the easy way out. And then again, in 1903, the heretics could only dessicate; they couldn’t die, either. Guess my ancestors have some deep-rooted fascination with eternal suffering. The twin merge is a curse. You either die or kill your sibling before you’re old enough to rent a car. Then, if you live, you have to marry and watch your kids do the same. And if you die before you have merge-able kids, whoops, the death of the coven is on you. Like, imagine you get hit by a car and die, and so does the whole three hundred year old coven. That’s embarrassing. Imagine explaining that to the ancestors in hell.”

You snort and let out a laugh. 

“Obviously, I don’t care about my coven, and I only wanted to be the leader so I could prove that I could, but it does suck that we’re all nonconsensually born into this life and can’t get out of it. It would be easier if we didn’t hate each other so much, and that instead of life being one big game of dog-eat-dog, we could come together and be like, ‘Hey! This sucks! Can we try to figure out which ancestral bitch cursed us and maybe reverse that? We’re supposed to be witches, right?’”

You laugh more now. A genuine laugh, amused by Kai Parker’s unusual bareness and honesty. Never had you had such a sincere conversation with him. Frankly, you didn’t know he was capable of opening up as much as he is now. It’s nice. It’s the most meaningful conversation you’ve had recently, and if you’re honest with yourself, it’s healing. 

Not only do you know Kai’s background, you know his loneliness. Of course, you’ve never been in his shoes exactly, but you know what it’s like to feel helpless. Sometimes your parents teach you about pain before anyone else has the chance. Sometimes your friends break your heart the hardest. Sometimes it feels like there’s a target on your back and everyone’s carrying arrows. 

You don’t need to experience the same trauma to relate to someone, you just need a little bit of courage to speak up about it. The right people will listen. Those who understand. 

“I said before that I understand why you were willing to hurt Bonnie and Damon to get out,” you say. “I stand by that still.”

“You do?”

“I met your father once. I was friends with Liv before she skipped town, and he came to her dorm when I was there. He was cold.” You pause, rubbing your arms as a chill runs through your body. Whether it’s the cool night breeze or the memory, you’re not sure. “He smiled, and he made a joke, but his posture was rigid and his eyes were dark. It was like looking into the face of a snake that could strike at any moment. I was afraid to look away, yet afraid to look right at him.”

“He was never a warm person. He loved his wife, and did love my siblings, I think, but coven always came before family. He would betray even those closest to him in a second if asked. I was always told it was complicated for him, but it’s pretty simple. He never hesitated. It was obvious. There was no right vs wrong war in his mind. Guess it makes him a good leader, though. Maybe.”

“Not a good leader,” you argue, “but a dedicated one.” Kai seems to ponder that. “My family’s the opposite: they are complicated. They say one thing, but expect the other. Everything is a guessing game. You’re never quite sure what they want from you, and nothing’s ever good enough. Life feels like a competition: you have to do the most, study the hardest. There’s a thousand boxes to check by the age of twenty-three, and if you don’t complete them, you’re never going to catch up, never going to make them proud.” You’ve ranted a little, spoken somewhat quickly, but Kai follows along with great understanding. “I have a relatively big family, too, and they’re all over the country checking boxes. I live in a small town, with goals only big enough that I won’t feel like a failure if I don’t achieve, and spend every day just trying to stay alive. I’m the biggest disappointment to them and it’s so obvious.”

“Looks like we’re both family disappointments. Do they know about the supernatural?”

“Oh, god no. Their heads would explode.”

Kai laughs. He sees you shiver again and silently unzips his sweater. You startle a bit when he puts it around your shoulders, but then welcome the warmth it brings. It smells like him, so you pull it closer, finding that as a new comfort. 

“Thank you.”

“It’s technically Alaric’s-”

You start to pull it off, “ew-”

He stops you with a hand to your back. “But I’ve had it for months.”

“How’d you-?”

“After Damon woke me up when they put me on ice. I’d siphon the magic from Caroline’s mom on two conditions: one, he’d let me merge that night, and two, I could borrow a sweater.”

You chuckle, then let it envelope you again. Kai’s hand leaves your back, taking some, but not all, of the new warmth with him. He stretches out, leaning back on his elbows, and watches you copy the position. Your knees touch gently, though neither of you move. He studies you again, eyeing your face for tension, but finds your lips slightly parted in a relaxed state. You aren’t afraid of him; you aren’t trying to get away. 

The only person who isn’t taut as a band around him is Damon, because the vampire’s confidence and strength matches that of the young witch. But here, you’re only human, full of emotion and exhaustion, and alone on a rooftop with none other than the self-proclaimed sociopath himself. If your friends knew, they’d surely be freaking out, and maybe an hour ago, the thought would panic you, too. But now, at this moment in time, you’re completely calm. You’re trusting him. 

“So what’s the verdict?” He says out of nowhere, speaking up in the dead of night. The restaurant crowd left some time ago, and the roundabout hasn’t been driven through for less. In the far-off distance, you can hear a dog, but it stops after a few barks. 

“What?”

“How are we getting off this roof tonight?” You look over to him with an eyebrow raised. “Are we jumping, or are you gonna climb off with me?”

You ponder the question. Truthfully, you didn’t climb up today with the full intention of climbing back down. If Kai hadn’t followed you up, you, as he put it earlier, may have made it to the edge. 

But now, with both of your hearts and histories spilled out in front of you, things are different. Things are harder, because he’s involved. Yet, at the same time, things feel easier. He’s involved. He listened, and he shared his own story. You found common ground and it brought you closer than you’d ever imagined you could be with him. Hell, lately, with anyone. Somewhere, deep in your heart, you feel a bit of hope. 

“I’ll be honest,” he starts, “even though I’m out of the prison world, finally leading this dumb coven, and somewhat surviving in this town, I’ve considered it. I thought getting out would be a fix-all, and once I was, I would be okay, but I never imagined that life outside of it could be as lonely as my life was there. My coven still controls me and my family still hates me, and I wanted to get out and prove myself, and live, but now, sometimes,” he struggles for the right words, “I can’t find it in myself to care anymore.” He looks over to you to find you nodding, understanding. “I could die a hundred times over in the prison world with little consequence, but here, death is permanent.”

You offer a smile and a second of silence before agreeing. “Sometimes its permanence is a comfort, but sometimes a hindrance. It's permanent, I’ll never have to carry this weight again. I’ll never be a burden, or a failure, or a disappointment. But at the same time… what if I regret it? What if I’m halfway through the fall, or lying in a hospital bed, and there’s no saving me, but suddenly, I regret it? Or what if we’re conscious in the afterlife, and I miss the body and soul I once had, but gave up before my time was up? It haunts me. I have decision paralysis over dying. I wish I could make up my mind.”

Kai’s never cared much for other people, but in this moment, he knows if you got any closer to the edge, he’d hurl himself forward to pull you back. He sensed something was off about you earlier. You’d been climbing up here for weeks, but this time felt different. Necessary. 

“How about this? Climb down with me and we don’t have to make any decisions. Okay?”

“So the decision is to make no decisions?”

“Exactly.” He sits back up, outstretching a hand for you to take. “Let’s go get a coffee or something, and we can worry about it later. And, maybe, tomorrow won’t be so bad, and we can put off that decision making a little bit longer.” Kai manipulates slightly. He knows there is no decision to be made - it’s not a yes or no - but an ultimate decision on when you will take that step closer to the edge. So, if he can distract you day by day, and put off that ultimate decision, he could, with time, pull you from the edge, and eventually, off the roof. 

And that is a decision he is willing to make. He’s never cared much for other people, but something about you softens him. His life hasn’t been a fulfilling one. He hasn’t accomplished much, and he’s done little that makes him proud of himself, but you make him want to change. Be better, do more. Even if he only does one good thing, he wants to do it. He wants to save you. 

“Okay,” you finally agree, taking his hand. “Coffee sounds nice.”

For the first time of possibly many, he helps guide you back down the stairs, onto the safety of the pavement ground. You keep a hold of his hand all the way to the twenty-four hour diner two blocks down, and the whole time, he can’t stop smiling. 

[farenmaddox]

it's Cas!posting hours again

I’m doing a season 4 rewatch of Supernatural because I need to watch this angel fall again. And god, it’s so good. The Destiel of it all is literally from minute one and never lets up, for one thing. Like, the insane crazy eye contact and whispered conversations alone in the dark and the way Castiel constantly shows up in the aftermath of really terrible moments of Dean’s life, where the only role available to him is to listen to Dean spill emotions everywhere, and do his little angel best to provide some sort of comfort? Are you fucking kidding me?

I just finished watching s4e7 “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester” and need to talk about it for a minute. Thee Castiel just radiating BDE. Uriel’s the specialist, but Cas is the one who gets to decide whether Uriel goes to work and gets to reprimand and threaten him. I am. Okay.

Anyway, I’m just considering it all from Cas’s perspective. Like, what does he actually know about Dean Winchester? So little. They have spent max two hours in each other’s company at this point. He knows that Dean was feisty enough to stab him and yell at him, and he obviously thinks it’s kinda cute because he just lets him do it. Like a puppy that hasn’t learned not to bite yet. What else does he know? He knows Dean got very pissed about the rising of the witnesses, and the deaths of his fellow hunters. Understandable, maybe. Castiel is pissed about the loss of his own fellow soldiers. Makes sense.

Then there was s4e3, “In the Beginning,” and now Castiel knows that Dean loves his family and it hurt him to see what happened to his mother and why everything happened with Sam the way it did. And Castiel felt it. He felt that pain from Dean, and it wasn’t his place to stop any of this, he was just there to drive the car and make the cryptic threats. But he reached out and touched his shoulder, because Dean was in pain and Castiel couldn’t look at it without wanting to do something. That little touch is where the crack formed. 100%

Now it’s Halloween, and they need to destroy a whole town. Castiel last saw Dean about a month ago, and he’s been busy trying to stop the apocalypse. It’s difficult and his brothers are dying and he’s stressed. Now he’s here, and he has to destroy a town. And Castiel doesn’t want to, but it’s not up to him, it’s up to Dean. And Castiel doesn’t know this, because he can’t remember, but he’s been here before. He’s felt this doubt before, and they’ve drilled into his brain and pulled it out of him. He’s had all previous instances of hesitation stolen from him. So now, here, his doubts are new and frightening. And Dean Winchester gets to decide. This man whose significance he doesn’t fully know or understand. He knows he was commanded to pull him out of hell, he knows Dean feels loyalty to hunters and family, but he doesn’t know what Dean will do when it’s his life, his brother’s life, against the lives of random people he doesn’t know and would never see again anyway. Castiel will do whatever Dean says, but he knows he might be disappointed. That he might have to kill 1,214 people depending on who Dean really is.

Then Dean proves himself to be the man that Castiel was secretly hoping he was. He won’t let them destroy the town and he will put his own life on the line for it. Dean loves humanity, the way that Castiel is not allowed to remember that he does, too. Dean does what Castiel was longing to do and praying that Dean would do for him, and he makes the space where Castiel can profess those feelings safely.

Yeah, Cas falls. Of course he does. This episode makes me truly believe that he was going to anyway and Dean was just the catalyst for it this time. He’s fallen before, but this time, he gets to remember. Because Dean is the immovable object that meets the unstoppable force, because Dean is a fixed point in the universe. This time, when Cas falls in love with humanity, they can’t take it away from him because his love literally has plot armor.

[sevastiel]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @lucius-the-sinful

1: how many works do you have on ao3?

Haha... 1

2: whats your total ao3 word count?

109,079. By the time I upload the next chapter, maybe closer to 115k?

3: what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

... Just Guardian Spiral. But somehow I've gotten lucky enough to spike past 500 kudos, which is absolutely insane, so I think I must be doing *something* right

4: what fandoms do you write for?

Warframe my beloved!

5: do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Yes, whenever I can. I haven't had time as of late, (time meaning the mental capacity) but gods, do I read and plan out a response to every single one I get. What a genuine delight to have people interact, lemme tell ya what.

6: what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

GS hasn't ended yet, but there is a side piece for it, just a couple thousand words, that is probably some of the genuinely angstiest shit I've ever written. Thrax and Drifter mural painting hours.

7: what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Theres a *silly* side piece that uh... Well... 'happy ending... ' I mean...

8: do you get hate on fics?

If there is, it hasn't reached me. I do get critiques from time to time, and I value those immensely, so I wouldn't count them as 'hate', per se.

9: do you write smut?

>:)

Theres much I've yet to upload...

10: do you write crossovers?

Eh... I might someday, but its not my cup of tea in most cases. Crossover fics can be cool, but often come at the sacrifice of some elements from one or the other universes, and more often not in a good way.

11: have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware. Sometimes I see people using things I've done previously, but there's a collective braincell in the warframe fandom anyway so I cant even hope to take credit for the ideas most of the time LMFAO

12: have you ever had a fic translated?

Would that I'd be so lucky!

13: have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope! I did do writing projects with friends when I was younger, and I had a *ton* of fun with those, though.

14: whats your all time favorite ship?

Shakadolin, (Shallan/Kaladin/Adolin from the Stormlight Archive) just for pure character vibes. Hell, even if its just platonic, I love it anyway. They fit together so well, and I think Kaladin has two hands for a reason. They all have two hands for a reason. Kaladin and Szeth also makes me nod my head in approval.

Also Benrey and Gordon Freeman from hlvrai makes me giggle every time I see it so thats an honorable mention.

15: whats the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Hahh.... On mentioned GS Side projects, there's one particular little one that's just, like, general shenanigans with the drifter and the hex thats been bouncing around in my head. I dont know if those little scenes will fit in gs, but in case they might, I haven't written down much.

16: what are your writing strengths?

I like to think I have characterization down pretty well, but I dunno how much I can say about it objectively. In general, I try and write everyone that I love like I love them, which means paying a lot of attention to minute details. I dont think I'm always successful in tying in everything but I really do try.

17: what are your writing weaknesses?

Fuckingng, Extended Dialogue.. ,, .

Specifically. I write stream of consciousness style, and often try and limit how many characters I'm writing at once because I write each one by getting in their headspace, so the faster the changes the more frequent and tiring the switching becomes. Thats why there are so many pieces of just characters sort of monologuing from time to time, because thats kinda like, me leaving character notes for the future.

This also means that when I do write, I tend to forget, mostly, where I was intending to go with something because I'm no longer really in my own headspace. Shit will happen as it feels in character to have happen, so dialogue intensive chapters require me to take notes of some kind or things will go in an utterly different direction than I planned.

18: thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Aside from english, I don't speak any other languages fluently. I can read and understand italian and spanish if given time, and I used to be able to do the same with japanese, but... Beh.

However, adopting the specific sentence structure and adding in words in other languages is Really Fun.

19: first fandom you wrote for?

Warframeeeeee >:)

20: favorite fic you've ever written?

You'll never guess

[janiehellion]

Just popping in to say that your writing is absolutely amazing! I recently discovered your account and I’m Obsessed with a capital O. The way you write Daryl is chef’s kiss. You capture him so well omg. I’ve been going through your masterlist whenever I have time, and I get so excited each time I come to your account because I know I’m in for a fantastic read. I love your writing and I can’t wait to see what amazing things you put out next 💜

I'm Not Okay! (But In A Good Way?)

Okay, so… what the hell.

I was already in the middle of writing a thank-you post because I saw that you reviewed most of my writing with your comments, reblogs, and overall energy—but THEN you hit me with reblogs AGAIN and an inbox message, and now I just? Excuse me while I die.

First of all—who let you be this nice? I'm being force-fed serotonin in the form of words. Thank you. Like... I need to process in real time.

"Obsessed with a capital O" – This alone... Because, let me tell you… I am the one obsessed. With you and your ability to make me feel like I've actually done something right with my writing.

"The way you write Daryl is chef's kiss" – Do you understand how much that means to me? Daryl is my favorite character ever for personal reasons, and the fact that you (a fellow writer, a talented person, an awesome creator) think I captured him well? I need a moment.

"I get so excited each time I come to your account" – I don't even know what to do with this information! You show up with enthusiasm, and suddenly I feel like my work actually matters?

"I love your writing and can't wait to see what amazing things you put out next" – Do you realize the pressure you just put on me? I am now going to stare at my drafts for hours, days, weeks, questioning every word, because I want to live up to your expectations. (With Love!)

But the worst (best) part? You're a writer too. And not just any writer—a popular one. So now my brain is all like: Why is she hyping me up so much when she has a massive reach and following? What alternate universe did I wake up in?

Like, seriously—what kind of role-reversal fanfiction AU am I living in right now?

You have a whole fanbase. You could literally just blink at a blank document and your fans would be waiting for you to write the first word. Meanwhile, I'm over here, trying to crawl back outta my Tumblr grave, because I had stopped writing a few years back and only came back about half a year ago.

You have no idea how much this means to me. Writing is hard. You know that. It can be lonely. It's staring at a screen, sometimes being convinced everything you've written is absolute shit, and then posting it anyway, hoping someone, anyone, will love those fantasies we think of. And the fact that you, of all people, are not just reading but actually engaging, and making me feel like my words are worth something—that's insane. I genuinely don't know what I did to deserve it, but: thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

Thank you for taking the time. Thank you for your reactions. Thank you for the time, the comments, and most of all—thank you for reminding me why I love writing.💜

[ray935sworld]

hi.👻 I hope you haven't read all the books in your library by the time I get here. There will be quite a lot of words next (I hope you don't mind and you really need it)🥳

"So you are telling me - a rookie and then newly crowned, pregant baby champion, that had a kid at 20 with literally his childhood hero, all while continuing to keep being on top in literally one of the most elite and dangerous sports in the world, was not acting like any other normal, rational human being? Because everyone else of us is 'normal'?" – FANTASTIC. THAT’s it.

"And because he was enjoying some time with his coworkers and making jokes, hugging them - he definitely slept with them?" "Yes! See?! Now you get it." - Well, yes. I smashed the table with my forehead. A mad man. Can anyone hear me? HE'S INSANE!.

«…smashing someone's head against a table in that statement.» = Oh, damn it. Am I predicting the future?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Good God, Dani brought a photo and what the fuck is this man saying!?

"I am sure Marquez has whored enough around that he maybe even sure himself who the father is."

Am I in hell?

"You don't know what to say so you're being an asshole to cover it up." – that's probably true. Someone is cornered.

«…Now look at them and tell me you really can't see the connection!" - See? I'm a seer. Well, tell us something back, old man.

«…and for a moment Dani was sure he was mistaken.» - You won't believe me, dear Dani, but that's how I feel about this whole terrible (ecstatic) story. It's like someone believes that all people have three heads. Well, these kinds of mistakes and follies, you know.

«"Why Luca was so distance after 2015. Why he kept going back to that asshole and the little bastard - He is David's father!" he exclaimed and with no hesitation as if he had spoken a widely known fact.» - Do you know what? They came for me from a mental hospital, it seems that I believe in three-headed people.

«"The fuck you just said?" Dani asked, wondering if he just had a stroke or something.» - I wish I could ask the same thing.

«"You're aware that Luca was just over 16 when David was conceived. Right?!" "Yes! So he was easy to manipulate. Poor boy and now he is stuck as a father to-"» - I've run out of words. Please. Get some help.

«And with that, Vale had managed to do what Jorge until now had failed to do. He found Dani's breaking point. The point where he lost his cool and was running out of patience at once.» -  just imagine Dani being so angry that it must be really intimidating? * sighs enthusiastically*

"YOU WILL ALWAYS BE OUR LITTLE BABY!"  -Oh, that's sooooo cute, adorable little baby.

«He heard a huffing sound, that could either mean begrudging acceptance or frustration» - ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE 😭💞

"Anyway, OUR LITTLE BABY-! is missing his papa and I'm missing my husband. Where are you?" he asked. - Aaaaaa. Stop it, it's so unfair. Why are they so beautiful?😭😭And he said that he misses him too, ahhh. They'll kill me.😭😭😭

"And how did someone even manage to reach his nose? As far as I'm aware you'd need a chair for that" - okay old married couple, i got you. I love you.

Okay, okay. I got you. I understand what you are trying to do (I can quote the following 5-6 paragraphs here, but I won't) - I UNDERSTOOD YOU, I LOVED THEM. I won't do it again, please forgive me.😭🙏❤

They're also flirting, Ray, why are you torturing me like that? (*Even more crying emojis*)

"Luca would never hurt Vale intentionally! Fucking hell, even when he disappointed him the most, he was still trying to help him and understand him! And he accuses him of something like that?!" - I wish I could ask the same thing. x2

"And you think he's still there? Somewhere... Deep under all the shit he's talking?" -  in fact, despite all my screams, for some reason I believe in it too. Maybe because I was promised a happy ending (but that's the least important reason). But something makes me believe it too.

«The boys came up with it after someone said that Vale might be projecting. That he had been the one cheating on Marc and turned it around to not be blamed.» - Can I just say that please don't. It will break my heart. But God, what if Vale was cheating on Marc? I honestly don't believe it. Maybe it's naive, but it's like Vale loved him too much for such a betrayal. Although considering what he really did to Marc (which is really nothing but betrayal), I don't even know... But yes. There were definitely manipulations * Uccio waves his hand frighteningly*.

"I am glad you still have hope, but I don't. I have a son to take care of. I can't afford getting thrown off by Vale. And getting my heart broken all over again. I need to be there for David" - Oh, my dear Marc. It's probably really part of parenthood to give up a part of yourself for the sake of your children's well-being. It's very painful at the same time, because obviously he hasn't stopped loving Valentino and probably now thinks that the broken heart is with him forever. But on the other hand, he must sacrifice all hope and be strong for the sake of David's well-being. And he decides not to try again. It's such a strong act, God, he's suffering so much. It hurts me so much.

«... Do you really think I - I - would abandoned my own child?"» - Well, I couldn't find the words for that. It will hurt a lot when he realizes that he has done just that. It's worth saying that the story with the photos immediately made me think about a paternity test, as it's obviously the easiest way. But what can I say. Valentino as we all can see, just simply denies reality.

«But the facts were proof enough. It wasn't Vale, standing on the side of a dirt track watching David. It wasn't Vale that was there with them, taking time off and using one of their rare breaks to look after a child.» It just hurt and hurt me so deeply that I don't even cry anymore. Please, at least let it end well.

well. Conclusions - pedrenzo deserves a thousand kisses here. They are so beautifully written, little pedro is just their son. I was so into them, all the little details, the jokes, and how beautiful their love is-God, it's just art.

Luca has once again been awarded the medal "the most sensible person from the locals".  I love it when characters in stories (especially side characters) actually do something, and not just be around, because in real life people always have their own opinions about the situation and one way or another they would try to do something about it. Anyway, Luca gets a kiss on the forehead, oh this beautiful man.

Valentino. Well. I wish you well. In hell. God, I felt such a sense of disgust for this man, but I have to say thank you for that. He is so well spelled out here that he almost causes hatred for his actions. Scenes with denial of real things, God he even almost accused Luka = it's just perfectly spelled out. And although I am horrified by his madness, it is perfectly shown here.

The only question I have is how much and for how long he will have to repent. Since the madness of such power cannot be brought back by a couple of even very sincere apologies. So someone will really eat two tons of glass first, and then...Well, let's see. To be honest, I really want to read this.

Well, thank you for agreeing to read my dissertation (takes off his glasses), I hope you were at least a little bit interested, and maybe even have fun.

PS, in fact, I glow every time I read your answers, and they always touch me to the depths of my soul. Thank you so much for your reactions, you make my day better when you respond. And then I walk around and smile.

 A thousand kisses to you and your writing 💖. And now and giving you a big hug)💞

OKAY - WOW. JUST WOW. OMG I am currently freaking out a little bit. So those -

That is my current state. Literally how I feel rn. THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG. I saw your ask yesterday (technically today ups) at like 2am and my brain didn't function anymore and I was just like "HOLY SHIT THAT IS ONE OF THE BEST ASKS EVER!!!!!" (like I'm already super happy about every ask no matter how long or short or detailed or not detailed they are BUT THIS WAS ON ANOTHER LEVEL!) And I read it and I was just grinning but my brain refused to do English so I put answering back to now and that's literally me while reading it.

Actually that's me whenever I see you or anyone in my inbox but that's NOT the point.

I LOVED reading your reactions. That was an amazing insight. Literally AAAAAAH! Screaming out of happiness! I love reading/ hearing people's reaction about certain scenes cause it helps me understand the readers perspective and get more on point with the most important stuff and where to put the spotlight. So THANK YOU for letting me have those insights!!!! AAAAH That's means so much to me!

Honestly that chapter was really more to set the "vibes" and put the positions in check. Spoiler: the next chapter will be out of David's POV and then later in the story there'll be more insight on Vale and his train of thoughts and emotions.

Yes. Yes I love Pedrenzo thank you very much. They are my favorite. I need them with their happy old married couple, playful nagging vibes raising a son that's just as chaotic as themself. Like I want them to influence Pedro like that. Honestly they made their appearance mainly to show that Marc and David get support by Pedrenzo and Pedro. Like David and Pedro basically both grew up in the paddock. (Pedro was born in 2011 btw so he was already 3 when suddenly there's a new baby hanging around his parents garages so he takes an interest in David and they get close and basically they are like brother. Plus Dani and therefore Jorge definitely helps Marc so imagine little David having a happy sleepover with Pedro at the Pedrenzo house (yes in that version they live in Andorra/ Spain not Switzerland) while the Marquez family are sorting out another bomb from Rossi. Basically they needed David out the house to figure out how to deal with Rossi.

Thanks a lot, again. I always try to kind of give the side characters their own storyline even if it's not fully explored because I mean everyone is the main character of their own story so when they get the spotlight I try to treat them like the main character. Really glad it seemed to work :)

Yes yes yes yes yes. Vale is deep down. Like really deep down. But what if I tell you he - AAAAGH There's so much more to his pov actually I can't wait to write it and to see your reaction (if you want to oc, no pressure). I think his pov will slowly start in like 2-3 chapters. I have honestly no idea how long this story will be. Probably long. Like VERY long I hope you have patience 😅

And to answer your question - he's gonna eat a lot of glass. Like A HELL LOT. He is put in every version of his personal hell in every possible aspect. Like I hope to write his own psychological torture when realizing what he did and that guilt WILL stay with him for long, maybe even for the rest of his life, it'll be present in waves, maybe triggers by clear issue his behavior caused in those affected (mainly David and Marc). Like he will face every trauma and trigger he created. And then if course there's the family reaction. Sure Luca is supportive but Alex? Jorge Lorenzo? The man who has an abusive father who knows what's it like to let someone in that has treated you like shit during your childhood (yes it was very different but trust me I'm gonna make it make sense)? Yeah he does has some words to say. And of course Roser and Julia. Not to mention that Marc can't just let Vale back in David's life again. And maybe even David is hesitant? To be fair I really can't promise how much I will actually write but there are a lot of thoughts. I can't say they will all make the final cut or be very detailed and laid out in actual scenes but it won't be rushed (probably)

And................... What if Marc (years after the reconsilation) gets pregant again? How would David deal with that? There's almost as much fluff as angst in that string tbh. I'm only saying it here already because I really don't know if I have the motivation to write that long and that far in this AU.

Well thank you very much for your dissertation. You're getting 18 Points! I have no idea how dissertation are grades so I'm using my uni system so 18 points = A+ so full points! 100%! I really enjoyed reading it, like always. It was amazing. Very Intresting and very much fun. And I hope you have a great day! 💕💕💕

Thousand kisses and a big hug right back ❤️

[theallianceofcelestials]

Hello my dears, it is I, Charlie this week for the yapping :)

I hope both of your weeks were as wonderful as you guys are ✨✨✨

Sugarcake! Wonderful to see you!

I'm sure you saw my posts about AI, which really just ruined my mood. Like it really hit my writing motivation to have ALL my works stolen by someone, even if they won't be used for anything, and now a big portion of my readers is not going to be able to reach my stories, because they don't have accounts, which is a bummer cuz an AO3 account really makes one's life easier. But yeah, I just wish there were no people like this.

On the other hand, I'm thinking how the best way to counter it, and I'm sayin this with discomfort, is to write batshit insane smut fics. With all the traumatising stuff in it. Let's see if they want to get the stuff from AO3 when they'll be hit with the abo Jesus story where he's all the designations cuz he says in the bible how he's the alpha and the omega. Like just make them regret wanting romance stories, because they'll learn some pretty nifty words (by nifty I mean psychologically damaging). Even in the sci-fi genre! :D And all the genres really! I'm just curious how much terribly written explicit fics AI would need to start making the most horrifying shit ever. In short, I wanna traumatise these people, even if it's just a funny thought I have to myself

I've also been mostly spending time doin the end of the year big project, the one I mentioned previously, and gotta say it actually kinda looks professional. Like it's rather cool to look at.

And on last Saturday I went to see the Minecraft movie, cuz one of my friends had free tickets so ya know, why not? Especially because there wasn't anything better. And now I'm trying to decide whether I enjoyed the movie, or if it was a shitshow. So far all I've got is: it was something

We've also went drinking afterwards to BarCraft, which is a cool place where you can play boardgames, video games, both on pc and console, and drink of course! And the drinks are inspired by book/movie/video game characters! :D It's a cool place. Even if we couldn't stay long, and even if I got really late that day. It was already dark out, and I'm terrified of the dark, haha. I'm kinda wonderin if it's a relatively mild phobia at this point :/

But anyway, enough said about me. How are you Sugars? You doin fine? I hope your week was as amazing as you actually are! (which is one the same level as how cool you think we are)

Now let the Sunray yap

Hi Sugarcookie! Great to see you! ^^

I'm incredibly saddened for all those people whose works were scraped by that person. It would be great if people didn't steeal others' hard work :(

Currently it also looks like I'm gonna start working from next week! I got my work clothes today amongst other things I had to do (like a lot of administrative stuff) and boy am I happy I went there with a backpack, cause I had room to put the clothes in. Even if it completely filled up the bag and was very heavy >~< I'm also incrediby nervous and feel like throwing up, haha...

And my brain is at it again trying to make me like a new AU it came up with after I woke up from my nap. Which is another annoying thing! I don't like napping, beccause I wake up tired, and quite grouchy (more like fussy), but for the past 2 days after getting home, showering and eating lunch my body just goes "A'ight, we clean, fed, and cozy, it is eepy time" Which I'd have no problem with. If I was either 4 or 84 and not in my twenties. -_-

I'm also very excited for Moongleam tomorrow! She'll finally be free from that awful school! :D

I'm also sorry I have no idea what to talk about.

I guess I'll talk a bit about one of my newer AUs a tiny bit. It's a TSAMS Gravity Falls AU with Eclipse and Lunar as the protagonist twins. I'm having fun with imagining those losers in scenes from the show, even if some will have to be changed up a bit to fit the characters better. Speaking of characters, I'm having so much trouble pairing SAMS (and TSBS in general) characters with characters from Gravity Falls (only the important ones, the others can be just background OCs or something).

(hi this is the next day now, we just got home from Moongleam's graduation a bit ago, and boy am I happy to be home finally)

So where was I? Oh yeah, so I need at least 10 people from the shows (though it would be best if they were mainly characters from the shows that have their lore close to SAMS seeing as that's the show I mainly watch, but it would be fun to have characters from the other shows cameo, but the problem with them is that I don't know their personalities, so at that point having OCs would be easier I guess)

Anyway, this morning I woke up and when I turned on my phone my screen was all messed up, like from the bottom up something weird was going on with it. Like the very bottom of it in a kind of diagonal area was completely black, covering like a bit over 50% of my keyboard, and completely not responding to my fingerprint to get unlocked, so I struggled writing in my password to unlock it (yayy muscle memory and kind of memorizing how the keyboard looks)

So immediately after Moongleam's graduation not far from her shcool our families did a little detour to shop for clothes for stuff. And my father took me to a shop there that has the same brand as my phone to see if they can fix it, cause when I first got it not long after it had to be taken to a mechanic and during that time this shop still did fixes, but now they said that basically nowhere but one place does this now. Kind of silver lining is that it wasn't that far from the restaurant where we had a reservation for lunch, so after that my father and I separated from the others, so they could go home, while him and I went to the mechanic to see if they could even fix it.

This is where I'd like to mention that throughout the day that blackness spread further up my phone's screen, so by the time we got to the mechanic I couldn't even tell what tthe time was, just guessing based off of the (barely visible) last digit of the minutes, and the very top of the first digit of the minutes. My older sisters even joked that it looked like a demonic virus spreading, and my little sister and Moongleam agreed that it kind of looks cool. And I also joked with Moongleam that, because between the still normal screen and the blackness the screen was actually a specific shade of purple, it looks like a Dark/Negative Star Power infection, lol (I'm crying/jk)

So yeah, dude at the mechanic shop thing said it is fixeable. But it won't be cheap, and I'll be without my phone for at least until next week's Friday (though that depends on a lot of stuff) and of course if they find any more damages they'll fix them and add it to the already moderately high price. Good thing I'll start working from Monday I guess, I'll be able to repay this to my parents, haha! (I'm not laughing)

I'm just happy I managed to save to somewhere at least all the TSAMS related notes in my phone's notes app, because like 90% of them are work in progress fics, and the other are (in some cases for lack of a better word) worldbuilding stuff for fics. And some other stuff.

And because of no phone I'm not even able to watch TSAMS, unless on my laptop, but that's uncomfy. (I was originally watching it on my tablet, but that one's ancient and youtube doesn't even work on it since like 2 or more years ago, so that's why i watch it on my phone)

So I'm kind of devastated, haha...

Anyway! Enough of me, your turn Sugars! Let's hear all the cool stuff amazing people like yourselves must be gettingg into! :D

[bloody-bee-tea]

IntiMarch 2024 Day 19 - Trust me enough

The prompt for this was "I'm here for you"

Suguru is an insanely private person, Satoru had enough time by now to realise that. Sure, Suguru talks about what he likes and dislikes and he shares funny little thoughts with Satoru, but he never ever talks about his childhood, his parents or any other relatives.

Satoru knows that Suguru is living alone, even though he’s never been to his place, and that’s all, really.

It’s not that he minds it, much. Suguru is his best friend, despite the obvious holes in his lives and even though he never talks about any of that Satoru doesn’t feel as if he’s being kept out of the loop or if Suguru is keeping secrets from him.

Suguru is still the person Satoru trusts most. It just seems like maybe Satoru isn’t the one Suguru trusts the most because he very adamantly does not want to talk about why he looks like shit.

“You sleeping okay?” Satoru asks well into their evening, when Suguru is half asleep on the couch, listing more and more towards Satoru, his eyebags so deep that for a moment Satoru thought it was make-up.

“Sure,” Suguru’s non-answer is to that and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Bullshit,” he whispers, which makes Suguru tense for a moment, before Satoru simply pulls him closer towards himself. “Sleep here if you can’t at home,” he decides and Suguru doesn’t even seem to have the energy to protest that, because he goes heavy against Satoru and then that’s that.

He doesn’t even wake when Satoru drags him over to his bed and that, too, is worrying.

It’s not often that Suguru stays over, but it’s by far not the first time they share a bed, so Satoru has no qualms about sliding in right behind him, already thinking about what he could make Suguru for breakfast tomorrow.

These days he’s always buying food for two, because he wants to be prepared for when Suguru drops by without a notice and looking as if he’s ready to keel over at any time.

Satoru is not much of a cook, but during that time period where Suguru lost a few pounds for no reason whatsoever he learned how to cook decently well. It’s still not one of his favourite things to do but he knows enough by now to make balanced meals that won’t kill the both of them in a week or so.

Suguru had regained his weight with Satoru’s constant pestering and so mostly Satoru doesn’t even feel bad about it.

Except for the fact that he needs to pester Suguru in the first place because he’s not taking care of himself. Or he’s trying too hard to take care of himself.

No matter what, Satoru knows he’ll have to bring it up and rather soon, because seeing Suguru waste away in front of him like that is not something he enjoys doing.

But that is a conversation for the next morning.

~*~*~

When Satoru wakes up, Suguru is already awake. He’s still in bed though, and he does seem marginally more rested than the night before so Satoru counts it as a win.

“Had trouble sleeping?” Satoru asks, lazily stretching and daring to throw a glance at the clock.

It’s fucking early and Satoru falls back into bed with a groan.

“No, not when I’m here,” Suguru gives back and it has Satoru perking up, because that is more than he usually gets out of Suguru.

“Listen, Suguru,” he starts and watches how Suguru almost immediately clams down on him.

“Don’t, Satoru,” he warningly says and Satoru shakes his head, his hands reaching out to tangle in Suguru’s shirt.

“No, you will listen,” he orders him and he’s not afraid to stare him down.

Other people might be scared by that gaze but not Satoru, never has been and never will be. Suguru really should know better than that.

Suguru stays stubbornly quiet, but that’s fine since it’s what Satoru expected to happen in the first place and it’s not as if he needs Suguru to talk anyway.

“I just wanted to say, that no matter what, I am here for you. If you ever feel like talking about what the hell is going on with you, then I’m here. You can tell me anything, though I hope you already know that. I just—” Satoru bites his lower lip as he reaches out to push Suguru’s bang away from his face. “I just want you to be okay. And if I can help in any way, then you’ll let me know, alright.”

Suguru continues to stay quiet, which is fine and all, so Satoru gives him a small smile.

“That’s all. Now, any special orders for breakfast?” he then asks as he untangles himself from the blanket and from Suguru and gets out of bed.

“Put some fruit in whatever the hell you’re making, you always eat too much sugar,” Suguru says as if Satoru isn’t the one who has been in charge of keeping both of them healthy lately, but he still nods.

“Sure thing, boss.”

“And Satoru?” Suguru calls out for him, just as he’s about to leave the room.

“Mh?” he asks and turns back, surprised to see the serious look on Suguru’s face.

“Thank you. I—can’t, yet, or maybe ever, but—thanks.”

“Always, Suguru, I promise,” Satoru replies, his heart fluttering in his chest, because this is the very first time that Suguru even so much as hinted at the fact that something might not be okay.

It’s a start and Satoru will gladly take it.

~*~*~

Suguru’s health continues to decline. His face is gaunt, his eyes are tired, the bags are permanent and his appetite is almost non-existent.

Things have never been perfectly fine for Suguru, Satoru knows that because he was already working a job by the time they met and it was more than clear the he kind of needed that one to stay alive but this is reaching new heights.

New worrying heights, Satoru despairingly thinks as he watches Suguru push the food on his table around instead of eating it.

“Suguru,” he carefully starts and Suguru is so out of it that he only gets a weak grunt in reply. “How many jobs are you working?” Satoru wants to know because he suspects it’s no longer just one.

“Two, sometimes three,” Suguru lifelessly replies and Satoru is honestly just waiting for the moment his head drops forward, right into their dinner, like in the movies.

There are a lot of things Satoru wants to ask, wants to know, but he definitely knows that if he pushes too hard or goes on and on with his questions, Suguru will clam up again and he doesn’t want them to fight.

Suguru is so much more prone to fights lately, his temper short and bad and Satoru blames the sleep deprivation and the malnourishment.

So Satoru doesn’t say anything more, and instead puts a few vegetables on Suguru’s plate. He loves those, usually, and Satoru hopes that maybe like this he’ll at least get a little bit of food into him.

It doesn’t work and even though Satoru’s heart sinks, he lets it go.

At least for now.

~*~*~

Suguru’s hands are shaking as he picks up his glass of water and Satoru notices it with worry. Suguru is running himself ragged with whatever the hell he’s doing and Satoru can hardly stand to see it.

“Suguru, are you okay?” he asks, out of the blue and in the middle of a rather dramatic monologue in the movie they are watching but he couldn’t care less.

He only cares about Suguru.

Suguru gives him a warning glance but when Satoru doesn’t back down he lets out a deep sigh.

“I’m staying safe,” he says as if that’s any kind of answer to the question Satoru just asked and so Satoru leans forward, closer into Suguru’s space.

“Okay, but. Are you okay?” he asks again and just like that Suguru bursts into tears.

It’s so surprising that it takes Satoru a few seconds to react but then he’s quick to pull Suguru in his arms.

He shakes and he sobs and he cries for a very long time, and it feels as if Satoru’s heart is being torn into two.

Suguru should never be like this, should never be as desperate and defeated as he is now and Satoru wishes he would just talk to him so that maybe Satoru can fix it.

When Suguru’s sobs die down, Satoru nuzzles the top of his head and asks: “What do you need?”

“To not work three jobs,” Suguru bitterly mutters, his voice still heavy with tears and Satoru nods.

“Okay. Do you need to do that for rent?”

“Among other things,” Suguru cryptically gives back and Satoru sighs.

“If you were to live here, would that make things better?” he asks and curses under his breath when that makes Suguru pull away.

“Satoru,” he warningly says, but his face is still read and there are tear tracks on his face, so there is no way in hell that Satoru is going to back down right now.

“Answer me.”

“I—I could maybe drop one job,” Suguru finally admits, “but I can’t do that, Satoru, you don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me. Why can’t you?”

He’s not asking for the reason Suguru is working three jobs, or what ‘other things’ even entail; all he wants to know is why Suguru cannot move in with him and not bother with rent anymore.

“What if you get sick of me or we fight or something? I’d have nothing.”

It’s a valid concern, even though it makes Satoru wonder what Suguru had to go through so far to have to worry about something like that, but it’s also an easy fix.

“We’ll write you in the lease. That way it’ll be your apartment, too, and you have a legal right to be here, even if I should want kick you out. How’s that?”

“And I pay half the rent?”

“No rent,” Satoru shakes his head. “Absolutely not. It’s not as if—you said one job. Living here with me would only allow you to quit one job.”

“Yeah,” Suguru says, already closed off again and Satoru knows that he’s not getting any kind of explanation as to why he needs the jobs in the first place.

“What if—what if we do the same thing with my bank account?” he asks and Suguru stares at him with huge eyes.

“Huh?”

“I mean—you know I have more money than I reasonably know what to do with thanks to my family, so—why not use that? We can make it a shared bank account and you can take as much or as little as you need. We’d pay the rent from that account too, so it’s almost as if you’re paying your share and then you don’t have to worry about money again.”

“Fucking rich people,” Suguru mutters under his breath but some of the desperation has left his eyes and that’s all that matters to Satoru right now.

“I’d still want to work one job and save that money up in case—”

Things with us go wrong, Suguru doesn’t say but Satoru hears it loud and clear.

“Suguru, I don’t want you to stop working at all, not if you enjoy doing it. I just want you to stop working three jobs at once and killing yourself over it.”

Suguru works his jaw, clearly thinking things over and Satoru—for once in his life—is content to wait him out.

It’s important that he doesn’t push him too far too soon, because he definitely doesn’t want Suguru to shut down on him again.

“I’d—have to think about it,” Suguru finally says and Satoru lets out a breath of relief.

That’s better than he dared to hope for, if he’s being honest.

“That’s fine,” he immediately agrees and tries to pull Suguru into another hug again, but he stops him with a hand on his chest.

“Satoru, I might not ever tell you,” he warns him, without elaborating but Satoru understands anyway.

“That’s fine, Suguru,” he gives back and tugs on Suguru’s arm until he gets the hint and crashes into Satoru’s chest. “You either tell me all of it, or just some or none at all and it’s all fine. If you don’t want to talk about it, then that’s fine, just know that I’m here. If that changes, I’m here.”

“It—it’s not just me, Satoru. I can’t—it’s not just me. If I fuck up, it’s not just me that’s going to suffer.”

A thousand questions are at the tip of Satoru’s tongue at hearing that but he swallows them all down. He already pushed enough for today, Suguru’s admission is proof enough of that.

“Okay. Think about it. The offer stands and it has no expiration date.”

It’s all Satoru can do, at the moment, besides being there for Suguru.

Suguru opened up more to him than ever before and for now it has to be enough.

~*~*~

Satoru wakes up to incessant knocking at his door. He groans as he rolls around to check the time and then he curses when he realises it’s the middle of the night. Satoru has half a mind ignoring whoever it is that’s disturbing his sleep right now but the knocking doesn’t slow down and there’s no way Satoru can get any more sleep like this.

So he rolls out of bed, disgruntled and mad, and he hopes both those emotions show on his face as he yanks open the door.

Only to freeze completely in surprise when he spots Suguru at the other side, with a little girl in his arms and one standing behind him.

Suguru looks scared and tired and weary and both girls are silently crying.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru says when Satoru can’t find his voice fast enough and it finally jolts Satoru into action.

“Come in, come in,” he steps to the side, motions for them to get in, and only barely catches the girl still standing when she falls forward as her support moves away.

“Fuck, Nanako,” Suguru mutters, but Satoru hoists her up in his arms and the girl is asleep before her head hits his shoulder.

“I’ve got her. Let’s put them down in my bed. Do they need something?” he asks, gently pushing Suguru towards his bedroom.

“No, they just—sleep would be good.”

Not just for the girls, Satoru suspects, and so he nods.

“Alright, off we go then.”

They get the girls situated quickly and silently and when Suguru wants to leave the room with Satoru, Satoru stops him with a hand to his chest.

“You, too, Suguru,” he says with a nod towards the bed.

“I need to explain,” Suguru protests and Satoru narrows his eyes at him.

“Is anything you want to explain to me time sensitive? Do you have to be somewhere tomorrow, is something going to happen if you don’t do something on time?” he asks and waits until Suguru shakes his head. “Then off to bed you go,” he says and pushes Suguru back towards the bed. “I’ll be here and we can talk after you got some sleep.”

“Fine, fine,” Suguru mutters and then pulls Satoru into a hug. “Thank you.”

It’s not as if Satoru has done a whole lot yet, but he still hugs Suguru back before he shoves him towards the bed again.

Satoru is burning with questions but Suguru seems ready to keel over at any moment and an explanation can wait until the next day.

~*~*~

Satoru wakes up to the smell of coffee. His back hurts something fierce from sleeping on the couch but he drags himself up anyway because the coffee smells exactly like he usually takes it and he’s not surprised to find Suguru in the kitchen, most of the breakfast already done.

“Good morning,” Satoru says, making a beeline to his coffee and Suguru briefly turns away from the stove to give him a small smile.

“Morning.”

Suguru quickly finishes the last two pancakes before he drops everything on the table and sits down opposite of Satoru.

“Are you awake, like, truly?” Suguru asks and Satoru would be offended if it wasn’t such a valid question.

Suguru has had whole conversations with him he doesn’t remember a word of because he was still half asleep at the time.

“I am truly awake,” Satoru promises him and Suguru sighs.

“Okay, explanations then,” he whispers and Satoru’s hand shoots out, covering Suguru’s with his.

“If you want to. You are under no obligation to tell me anything,” he reminds him because it’s important that Suguru knows that.

Sure, Satoru can’t deny that he has a million questions but if Suguru doesn’t want to answer a single one, then Satoru would rather take a no than make Suguru do something he doesn’t want to do.

“I know,” Suguru quietly admits. “I know that, Satoru. I want to. It’s long overdue anyway, I shouldn’t ever have kept any of this a secret.”

Maybe, Satoru wants to agree, but it’s not his place to say and Suguru will have had his reasons, so he bites his tongue and stays quiet.

“The girls were fostered in the same family that I was,” Suguru starts. “Nanako and Mimiko. I—they are eight now. My foster parents got them shortly before I moved out and I talked to the CPS about it but they didn’t listen. My foster parents—things weren’t nice there,” Suguru admits and doesn’t quite dare to meet Satoru’s eyes. “I didn’t want the girls growing up there but no one was listening to me.”

“So you kept in touch,” Satoru guesses, focusing on that instead of anything else Suguru just said. The girls didn’t seem like they were afraid of a stranger last night. They seemed to trust Suguru.

“I tried to keep visiting,” Suguru agrees with a sigh. “My foster parents quickly caught on and demanded money in exchange.”

“You had to pay to see them?” Satoru asks for clarification and lets out a long breath when Suguru nods.

That certainly explains the three jobs he was working.

“I wasn’t ever allowed to see them at home, though, they always dropped them off somewhere. Nanako and Mimiko are bright girls, lively and wonderful, but they got quieter and quieter the more time passed. They wouldn’t talk to me anymore, wouldn’t mention what was going on at home at all. It worried me.”

“And I’d guess rightfully so.”

“Yeah. I went there, yesterday, without prior announcement. I still know where they keep the keys, so I got in. Satoru, you don’t know—” Suguru breaks off with a sob and Satoru moves around the table to hug him.

“They kept them in a cage,” Suguru hisses out between his tears and Satoru goes cold all over.

“What?”

“There was this huge fucking cage in the living-room, like a kennel. They kept them like dogs!”

“Fucking hell,” Satoru whispers because what else is there to say, really.

“I tried to get them out but my foster parents came home before I found the key. They attacked me with a knife for it.”

“They did what? Suguru, are you hurt?” Satoru frantically asks, moving away to flutter his hands all over Suguru’s body, trying to spot any injury.

“I’m fine, Satoru, I’m fine. A paramedic already checked me out, I got one surface slash; it got bandaged and that’s it.”

“You called an ambulance?”

“And the police, too, after I knocked both of them unconscious. All of this happened in the afternoon; I’ve been at the station since maybe 4pm,” Suguru tells him and it’s no wonder that he seems absolutely exhausted.

“What’s going to happen now?” Satoru asks because if the police is involved things might be difficult for Suguru.

“The girls said they want to stay with me, and I also said that I’m amenable to that. I can foster them, no problem.”

“But?” Satoru asks because he senses a big but coming.

He knows Suguru too well after all.

“I—” Suguru awkwardly clears his throat. “I might have told the police that I’m moving in with my boyfriend and I gave them your address for any further correspondence.”

Satoru’s heart threatens to beat right out of his chest but he forces himself to appear calm, even though he feels anything but.

“Suguru, you don’t have to, you know that, right? My offer stands, no matter what and if we have to move to a bigger apartment to accommodate all of you in separate rooms, then that’s no problem. You don’t have to do that because you think you owe me or anything.”

“What if I’m doing it because I’m in love with you?” Suguru gives back and leans in, almost close enough for their lips to meet. “What then?”

“Then I’d say you’re moving in with your boyfriend,” Satoru whispers, before he closes the distance between them. “But I just need to make it clear that you can change your mind at any time. The last few weeks must have been hell for you and I just want you to be okay, no matter what. If this isn’t what you want—”

“Satoru I’ve been in love with you since basically the moment I met you,” Suguru interrupts him with a chuckle and Satoru gapes at him.

“I see,” he finally mutters, darting in to press a kiss to the corner of Suguru’s mouth. “Alright then.” One more kiss. “Are the girls okay with sharing a room or do we have to move?”

“I think for now they are okay with that,” Suguru replies and pulls Satoru so close that he doesn’t have another choice but to sit on his lap. “Thank you. Seriously, Satoru, you’re the best. I don’t know if I could have done any of this without knowing you’d have my back.”

“I always have your back, no matter what.”

“And me coming with the girls now is not too much?”

“Hell no,” Satoru immediately says because he honestly means it that no matter what, he’ll always be in Suguru’s corner. And if he allows it he’ll always be by his side, too.

“I love you,” Suguru sighs out at hearing that and drops his head to Satoru’s shoulder.

“I love you, too, kids and all,” Satoru replies, burying his hand in Suguru’s hair, and pressing a kiss to it as well.

There will be a lot of phone calls to make—changing the lease and the bank account, first and foremost—before they get Suguru’s stuff from his apartment and buy things for the girls, but for right now, Satoru enjoys this quiet moment in his kitchen.

It’ll likely be the last for a while, he thinks when he hears the tell-tale squeak of his bedroom door opening, but as long as Suguru is here, Satoru couldn’t mind that less.

[skuppo]

Heyy skuppo I like your fanfic a lot and I’ve noticed u haven’t been online at all, u okay? I’m not trying to be pushy for a new chapter, sorry if it comes off that way. I was just wondering if your were alr?

Hi hello! It's very kind that you're reaching out here like this! 💖 It made me happy to see when I noticed, which admittedly took awhile (I'm so sorry!), because I have been very disconnected from everything lately!

This is kinda rambly so I'll give it a cut!

I am doing ALL RIGHT (right now, anyway, because before, I was doing TERRIBLY AHHHH like seriously some of the worst months of my life there for a bunch of stupid and also personally catastrophic reasons). I don't really want to get into all that because it's a huge bummer and it all REALLY SUCKED and I don't want to trauma dump! I'm sure I'll get into it a bit on my next author's note! BUT FEAR NOT, I'm not one of those people who gets upset even if people are like, "YO WHERE'S YOUR FIC" even if that was your intention -- long as it's respectful! It actually makes me more happy than anything to hear people still care about my story when I go into social hibernation mode 😭 selfishly my story means the world to me, so anytime anyone likes it, I'm like, yesssssss, my life is validated!

And on THAT front, I'm done with a chapter! I'm gonna do one quick and final pass-over edit and then it'll get posted tomorrow, either before or after work! (It's currently 11:00ish pm here in CST land, so expect it somewhere between like, idk, 8:30 AM and... 5? tomorrow??) Gonna take some brief time to ramble here because WHY NOT and also I AM ANXIOUS and gotta word vomit to STOP IT (it won't actually stop any of the anxiety BUT I CAN TRY) and am I really myself if I am not taking a short, sweet comment and using it to BLAB FOR DAYS???: it's not as long as my last couple of chapters because those 20k+ behemoths were exhausting as fuck to edit and really killed my drive to write. This is more my old style of 10-14k sorta chapters, and the one AFTER it is also actually written, too, it just needs a lot more editing. And then there's a TON of stuff after it I've also written too. In my long sabbatical, I basically let myself write scenes from parts of my fic as I was inspired to write them and not necessarily chronologically! This kinda resulted in me having TONS of shit written but nothing I could post, but it was also all I could really emotionally manage at the time. Between that and letting myself go back to smaller chapter sizes, I'm hoping it means I can go back to posting with a lot more regularity -- like, idk, once every week or two. I kept falling into this DUMB TRAP where I'd get anxious about a long portion of the story being more introspective/emotion-exploring than plot advancing and think, well, I have to hold on until I get some introspection AND some plot advancing moments, and that meant I'd end up with some INSANELY LONG CHAPTERS and editing those things made me really wanna walk directly into oncoming traffic. They were especially torture when I was NOT doing so hot on the brainmeat front, which is... OFTEN. Like who isn't emotionally and mentally a mess these days, the world is a DISASTER Anyway, long story short, I'm going to stop holding myself to arbitrary goals and allow myself to sometimes publish a chapter that's more about some horror-drenched domestic nightmare-fluff even if it doesn't have anything SUPER plot advancey at the moment because it's what makes me happy! AND HEY, character development is plot advancement too! (THAT'S WHAT I'M TELLING MYSELF ANYWAY AHHHH)

(In actuality I feel like I'm constantly terrified I'm letting the 20 people who consistently read my stuff down, but I gotta like, try really really hard to NOT think about that, HNNGH.)

I really think it'll be better for everyone tho. I'm more motivated to write when things don't take me a month and a half, because when it takes me a month and a half to write ONE CHAPTER I want to take a 7 year sabbatical not only from writing, but from life. I don't tend to get near as exhausted churning through smaller chapters though! Also, I hope you're reading on Ao3 and NOT FF.net cause I probably won't be posting there immediately! This chapter gets more overtly sexual than previous ones and I know FF.net isn't down for that so I gotta... find some way to edit it so it's not as heinous? Which is like HALF THE POINT OF THE CHAPTER, so I'm concerned! 🫠 Not that FF.net has any moderation anymore, but y'know, just in case! PS - for the anon who sent me the ask asking when the fic was getting updated sometime in mid January, the answer is: TOMORROW! <3

[mochegato]

Maybe Lover

“Can you put your phone away, please?” Bruce chided Jason, his voice sounding slightly tinny over the coms.  “It’s rude.  At least pretend to pay attention to the gala and the people here.”

“There is absolutely nothing going on in the gala that’s worth paying attention to,” he grumbled without looking up to acknowledge him as he continued to type, not that there was anyone there to acknowledge anyway.

“Are you kidding me?” Stephanie trilled, excitement bursting through her tone and Jason’s ear drum.  “Selena and Vikki and Oliver are all here tonight.  And none of them are the one Bruce brought.”  Jason snorted and went back to typing with renewed vigor.

“I can hear you,” Bruce cut in.  His exasperation even this early in the evening came through clearly.

“She knows,” Tim answered for her.  “She just doesn’t care.”

“Ooohhh, is that Pixie?” she asked, trying to peek around Jason’s shoulder to see what he was typing.

He raised his elbow quickly, almost clocking her on the chin as he did.  She had to dodge hastily to avoid getting hit.  “Maybe,” he grunted.

Instead of scowling at him, her smile widened.  “Say ‘hi’ for me!”

“Fuck off,” he scowled.

“You didn’t invite her to the gala?” Bruce asked.

“No?” he scoffed.  He desperately wanted to flip him off, but there were far too many people between the two of them and Alfred would be disappointed when he found out.  And he would find out.  He always did.

“Why not?  I thought we were going to get to meet her tonight,” Dick pouted.  Jason could feel the hopeful look he’d worn at the mention of Pixie turn to a disheartened frown from across the room.

“Because then you’d meet her tonight,” he responded flatly, giving his brother the deadest of deadpan looks to go with it.

“So, when are we going to meet your girlfriend?” Dick asked.  The hopeful edge appearing back in his gaze.

“Never if I have my choice,” he scoffed.

“Probably better that way,” Tim teased with a playful smirk.  “Less likely to get attacked in our sleep by some insane assassin that way.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jason growled.  He turned toward where he knew Tim was stationed with Kon and Cassie on the other side of the ballroom to glare at him.  “Maybe this is exactly why I don’t want you guys to meet her.”

“Okay, less chatter, more focus on the gala,” Bruce instructed sternly.  “Tim, stop antagonizing Jason.  Everyone, keep an eye out for anything suspicious and announce it on the coms if you find anything, but don’t forget this is for the Foundation.  If tonight goes well, we might be able to open a new clinic, so be charming… Jason,” he added at the end pointedly.

“Keep your shorts on,” he scoffed.  “I’m here aren’t I?  And not cursing out anyone… outside of the family.”

“And I’m proud of you for that,” Bruce agreed.  Jason almost flinched when his voice reached him in person instead of over the coms.  “Come greet guests with me.”

Jason threw his head back with a deep groan.  “Why am I being punished for behaving?”

Bruce rolled his eyes.  “You’re not.  You’re being rewarded.”

“This does not feel like a reward,” he scoffed, but followed behind him, plastering on a smile as he went.

“I think I see Marinette,” Bruce said consolingly.  “You like her well enough, don’t you?”

Jason studied him for a second before shrugging noncommittally.  “Maybe,” Jason huffed loudly, but his eyes darted around looking for her behind Bruce’s back, “she’s okay.”

He spotted her just before Bruce called out for her.  She looked stunning, which was no great surprise.  She stood out so strikingly, he was shocked he had missed her until then.  She was dressed in a floor-length red dress that skirted the line between sweet and sexy.  But, it wasn’t a bright, ladybug red.  No, it was a deeper, bloodier, Red Hood red.  Her silky hair cascaded down her exposed back, swaying slightly with each minute movement.  But it was when she turned around that truly took his breath away.  Her eyes glowed as reflections of the gala’s ambient lights flickered in them.  Her smile seemed to make the carefully calculated lighting significantly brighter.

“M. Wayne,” she greeted him cheerily, a markedly different greeting than the serious or fake or sultry greetings other attendees had used.  “Thank you for inviting me.”

Bruce raised his eyebrow almost imperceptibly.  To anyone not as familiar with him as Jason, or Marinette, they would have missed it and been taken in by the wide, fake smile.  He took her hand and bowed slightly.  “We couldn’t have a party without you.  You make all of our events that much brighter by your smile,” he crooned so over the top, Marinette almost choked out a laugh.  “Wouldn’t you agree, Jason?”

“Maybe,” Jason shrugged, but his eyes bored into Marinette.

Marinette raised an eyebrow at Jason but smiled for Bruce.  “Thank you, M. Wayne…”

“Bruce please,” he chided.  His charming persona on full blast.  Jason was just about ready to slap his overly familiar hands that were still holding Marinette’s hand like he might kiss her knuckles again, away from Marinette.

“Bruce,” Marinette responded obligingly.  “It really is a beautiful event.”

“Thank you,” he nodded slightly with an easy smile and finally let go of her hand.  “Nothing to do with me, I assure you.  But a great networking opportunity for you so…” he made a shooing motion toward the crowd.

Marinette chuckled and nodded back.  “M… Bruce.  Jason,” she acknowledged enchantingly and disappeared into the crowd.

Or at least she tried.  Jason’s eyes followed her around the room, never leaving her for too long.  She was easy enough to find, her red dress standing out against the rest of the attendees, but even if it hadn’t, he still would have been able to find her.  He always could.  He watched her walk from person to person, anxiety flickering in her eyes for a few moments before meeting each new person.  But she would invariably square her shoulders and march into battle.

He looked away before she could catch him staring like one of the lecherous old men who had been ogling her since she walked into the room.  It took several blinks and a shake of his head before he could focus.  It took longer than he would care to admit to tune back into the conversation he was supposed to be having with whoever Bruce had brought him to speak with.  His eyes found Marinette instead.  He sneered when he laid eyes on yet another lecher leering at Marinette.

His sneer eased into an appreciative gaze as he watched her chat animatedly with Kon and Cassie.  Her arms were flying out as she explained something, probably very simple, not remotely requiring so much expression, except that it was Marinette, so it would have been strange if she didn’t explain like that.  Cassie said something and Marinette threw her head back in a full body laugh that was so out of place in a high class, elegant gala, but was so very Marinette, that Jason’s resolve completely melted.

He stopped pretending to pay attention to the conversation he was supposed to be in when Marinette waved goodbye to Cassie and Kon and made her way in his direction, pointedly not looking at Jason.  Her hips swayed as she moved, not overtly, just enough to make his mind race, which, granted, didn’t require much… or anything really when it came to her.  Just seeing her eyes was enough.  Or her smile.  Or hearing her laugh.  Or… anything really.  And the occasional looks she would shoot him throughout the night, over her shoulder or under her lashes, only lasting a few milliseconds, nothing long enough for anyone else to notice, almost did him in.

He fought reacting when he felt a light touch brushing along his shoulder as a body passed behind him.  It was even harder when her breath tickled his ear.  “Not very subtle,” she cooed quietly enough only he could hear her words, but they hit him like a sledgehammer, driving the air out of his lungs.

A growl worked up from his chest and he spun quickly enough he was surprised his neck didn’t crack.  He shot his hand out to grab her arm before she could get away.  “Would you do me the honor of a dance, Ms. Dupain Cheng,” he prompted louder than strictly necessary.

She raised an amused eyebrow at him and had to purse her lips to keep from smirking.  “Of course.”

He wound through the crowd until they were in the middle of dance floor and pulled her closer than propriety allowed as the music started.  They moved in sync, as though they were one entity.  He relished the feeling of her against him; the heat against him, the way her soft body almost melded to his, the delicate tenderness of the bare skin of her back under his fingertips, the intoxicating fragrance of her perfume.  He brushed his face along her hairline, his lips lingering against her skin.

Marinette couldn’t help the small gasp that passed her lips.  “Careful, M. Todd.  We’re in public.”

He looked around as if only just seeing the people filling the ballroom.  His eyes widened in faux surprise.  “Oh!  That explains all the people.”

Her eyes were rolling before she even realized it, but quickly settled into a flat look.  “Your family is here.”

He made a show of looking around, without allowing his eyes to settle on anything.  “I don’t see them.”

She snorted inelegantly but covered it in his chest.  She glanced around quickly before returning her curious gaze to him.  “Jason?”  Her voice was soft, cautious.  He hummed in response.  “What are you doing?”

He traced the edge of her face lightly, his fingertips barely touching her skin, but still making enough contact to singe her, until his finger rested under her chin.  “I would have thought that was rather obvious.  I thought I was making it clear to the entire room.”

Her jaw dropped just enough for her lips to part slightly, drawing his eyes with so much force, he was incapable of looking away from her Red Hood colored lips.  “You sure about this?” she asked quietly.

He tightened his grip around her waist almost imperceptibly.  “Positive,” he whispered as he leaned down to finally connect their lips in front of witnesses for the first time.  They met in a soft kiss, that looked so intimate, so reverent, it felt like a sin to watch.

She stopped dancing to pull back and glance in his eyes.  “What made you change your mind?” She whispered.

“Maybe I’m tired of hiding,” he commented lightly and if she hadn’t known him better, she might have fallen for the offhanded delivery as he started them moving again.  “Maybe, I want to love you out in the open.  Freely.  In the light.  Maybe I’m done letting how other people will react affect how we love each other.  Maybe I realized you were right and I want this unconditionally too.”  He swept his hand over the back of her head and down her hair, letting the soft tendrils slip through his fingers.  “Maybe I’m done pretending and maybe you mean more to me.  Maybe,” he took a breath and met her eyes with a soft but determined look, “maybe I love you too much.”

He pushed her against himself so there was no space between them.  The soft look in his eyes turned deeper as he licked his lips.  “Maybe I want to kiss you anywhere, everywhere… public, private, on your body…”

“What the fuck am I hearing right now?” Tim whisper hissed, drawing the attention of the people around him, negating the purpose of whispering in the first place.  He offered them a tight smile and pulled Kon closer to him, trying to play it off as speaking to him.

“Oh my God, she’s Pixie!” Stephanie exclaimed excitedly, almost vibrating with excitement, not remotely caring about the stares she was garnering.

“First off, congratulations you two.  We’re very happy for you both,” Dick cut in loudly.  “Second, turn off your coms for conversations like this,” he begged.

“Ignore him, feel free to keep them on.  I’m invested now,” Stephanie cheered.  “I just need popcorn.”

Dick’s frustrated groan could be heard over the coms, even louder than Marinette’s embarrassed squeak.  “Third, how the fuck long has this been going on?”

“’She’s okay?’” Bruce asked, repeating Jason’s words from earlier, his voice mocking but light, an undertone of amusement clear.

“Maybe she’s a bit better than okay,” Jason conceded with a sigh.

“Maybe?” Marinette asked, her eyebrow and lips raised in bemusement.

Jason gently ran his fingers through her hair again as though he were smoothing it down, but in reality, using the feeling to ground him.  His touch was soft and light, almost reverent in his delicacy.  “Maybe every time I’ve said ‘maybe’ tonight I meant ‘definitely’,” he said softly.

Marinette’s smile brightened so much, she seemed to emit light.  Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, almost incandescent in their beauty.  “Maybe I love you too,” she whispered.

His lips widened into a sappy smirk.  He leaned down until his lips were millimeters from hers.  “Maybe?”

“Definitely,” she amended, rising up to close the distance.

[earthdance]

method acting - fox mulder

fox mulder is back after you've come to terms with his death.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

note: i'm not new to fanfic but i am new to x-files fanfic! i hope this isn't too terrible! this is inspired by the first two episodes of s3 because how could scully just accept that he was back that quickly. like he just showed up and she was like "ok" like WHAAAAT. anyways i just kind of reimagined that plotline because it seemed so insane to me.

content tags: SPOILERS for epsisodes 3x1 "the blessing way" and 3x2 "paperclip" , canon compliant but also canon divergent, reader insert, use of y/n and y/l/n (i think it's only y/l/n actually), angst, fluff, mentions of death and mourning, reader and mulder have shared dreams, reader is sad, mulder is sad, everyone is sad but it's okay cause there's a happy ending, this wasn't proofread.

word count: 1,394

cross-posted on ao3 if you prefer to read there!

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

i put the knife in slowly

through the ribcage to your heart

i don't know how we got here

but it's tearing me apart

you don't seem too surprised

i guess that it's become a chore

every tuesday on the hour

you don't feel it anymore

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

you couldn’t handle it. so much was going on and you couldn’t handle any of it. 

you try desperately to recall your lessons at the academy, about compartmentalizing and shoving unwanted thoughts or feelings into the darkest filing cabinets of your mind. 

but right now, all of those neatly closed and sealed drawers were flying open at breakneck speed, undoing years of hard work and meditation to keep yourself stable and able to do your job. 

he was here, in front of you. looking at you with his leafy green eyes with a crazed look as if he had just come back from mars. standing in the archway where the threshold meets the living room of his apartment, soft lamp light beaming off of his face. you’re in your pajamas, work clothes strewn over his floor, throw blanket and a pillow from his bed crumpled on the couch.. you had come here to sleep, as you’ve been doing since he’d been gone. 

it had been 2 months. you had weeped, screamed, sat in sad silence, broken things around your apartment, all to try to close the gaping wound his absence had torn in you. 

it had gotten somewhat easier. you were just on the precipice of acceptance. just on the precipice of finding some sort of strange peace in the storm that you were caught in. your body was tired, and it was begging you to let go of the pain. and you were about to.

but he was here.

“mulder?”

your voice was hollow like a bone. at this quiet utterance at his name, he steps forward, as if approaching a frail deer on the side of the road. prepared for it to dart at any second. he reaches a hand out, too fast.

you flinch hard. he jerks his hand back to his side.

“wh-” you start, willing yourself to make sense of the apparition in front of you.

you were hallucinating. you had to be. fox mulder was dead. you saw the smoke. the remnants. you saw evidence. 

“who are you? what kind of sick joke is this?” you ask, gasping for breath. 

“y/l/n…” he says. sad, regretful.

at his voice, something inside you crumbles, and you crash.

“don’t! what the hell is going on? what is this? why- why is this happening? why now?”

“ i couldn’t risk contacting you. not until they were sure i was dead. not until they had absolutely no doubts.”

“i- i don’t-”

“i want so badly to explain it all to you. what happened to me. but i want to give you time to process-.”

“process!?” you shriek, “i’ve already processed! i processed for 2 months! and now you want me to process more? to believe you’re alive? how do i even know it’s you, mulder? we’ve encountered people that can change shape, that mimic. they’ve fooled me before, i won’t let it happen again-” you’re hand twitches subtly toward your gun, lying on the coffee table. 

he straightens at this. “y/l/n! y/l/n…”

you freeze, ready to grab the pistol if he makes any sudden movements.

“just.. just listen. ask me something, i’ll prove that it’s me. ask me something only i would know.”

your eyes narrow at him. trying to search for any sign that he’s going to switch up on you. 

you try to calm your mind, to think of a sacred situation that you and mulder shared. something embedded deep in you. that you never told anyone about. 

“i- um…” you run a hand over your face, still breathing shakily. 

“what did i confess to you at the hotel in montana?”

his eyes glaze over in sadness. prepared to recite the story you told him. 

“you joined me on the x-files because when you were 13, you saw an apparition of your grandfather three days after he died. he told you someone was waiting for you. and you told me even though you thought it was just a dream, you’re still searching. searching for whoever’s waiting for you. wherever they are.”

you exhale for the first time in what feels like hours. tears prick at your waterline as you struggle to breathe. 

he’s there, then. arms encircling you, hand on the back of your head to pull you into his chest. and you wonder, how you ever could’ve doubted that it was him. he has never been more him than in this moment. his smell, his touch, his voice as he whispers in your hair. 

it’s okay, i’m here now. i’m not leaving again.

still embraced, he leads you to his couch. sits down gently so you can lean into him more. 

he rubs your back, sweeping those beautiful hands up and down your spine. in spite of yourself, you shudder at the feeling. 

“mulder i don’t-”

“i know-”

“no, you don’t.” 

he lifts your head from his chest and holds your face in his hands, wiping free falling tears away.

“you really don’t know.”

he bites his lip, searching for something to say, but you don’t want to hear anything from him right now. you need him to know. to understand. 

“fox,” 

he sucks in a breath at the use of his name.

“i have gone through countless deaths in my life. friends, family, pets. death follows me everywhere i go. i know the routine. i know how to grieve and come out the other side. i know how to be unfazed by it.”

you stop, to make sure he’s still following. he nods. strokes your hair.

“i-” you stop again, to try and gather yourself the best you can with his thumbs on your cheeks.

you look in his eyes now. you need him to know

“i’ve never felt so much pain. your absence… it was- it was so suffocating. so dark. no one could tell me anything. i didn’t have any closure. it was like i was walking in a tunnel, and i kept expecting to see the light. the end of it. but it never came. until last week. i was- i was getting better, mulder. i was starting to feel okay. i was starting to accept, however painful it still was. i- and then you're here?  you're just here all of a sudden? and now you being here, is almost even more painful then before because it doesn’t feel real. my brain can’t make sense of it. deep down i know it’s you. but it still feels fake. i’ve spent two months coming to terms with your death. it’s like a dream.”

you drop your head into his chest once more. he drags a shaking hand down to your arm and pinches you softly for good measure. a very mulder thing to do. 

you breathe a laugh out of your nose.

“see? not a dream” he says gently, lifting your face back up to meet his eyes once more. 

you give him a sad smile to show him you’re trying to be present with him. 

his fingers tuck your hair behind your ears. he takes a deep breath.

“i’m not going to try and pretend that i know what you went through. thank you for telling me.”

he bites his lip and contemplates his next sentence.

“i went somewhere. i didn’t necessarily die but i was close”

his hand holds your wrist, soothes your pulse.

“in the place i went, i saw people. people i knew that had died. but the last person… the last person was you. i wasn’t worried because i could tell you weren’t like the others. you weren't planted in this afterlife, you weren’t dead. you were just there to tell me something.”

you breathe shallowly.

“what did i tell you?”

“that you were waiting for me.”

you purse your lips and close your eyes, overwhelmed. 

“i know”

mulder looks at you, puzzled.

“you know?”

you nod, and open your eyes.

“i had a dream. my grandpa was there. he told me that i had already found the person that was waiting for me. and then i saw you. and i told you what you just said. i didn’t think it was real. i thought it was just another dream. i- i didn’t know it was your dream too.”

he smiles and presses his forehead to yours.

“were we both waiting on each other?”

a kiss is your answer.

[notty-facts-and-other-things]

Notty Fact #7 May 10th

Hey Humans! Today's Notty Facts is a bit of a long one, but a good one imo. Yesterday I did get myself a bit of heat exhaustion so I'm writing this with a HUGE headache and EXTREMELY tired. Also I got over 17 hours of sleep last night which is INSANE considering my max is normally 2 hours (Don't follow my bad example). Anyway, hope you enjoy! Drink water! Don't spend all day in the hot sun and remember a water bottle and sunscreen if you do!

Shower Thought: Why do people say tuna fish but not chicken bird?

Random Trivia: Octopi and spiders have blue blood

Notty Fact: When I tell people I have OCD I often get responses like:

● Oh so you...

- Have a super clean room

- Wash your hands way too long

- Like everything to be the same color

- Can't have anything askew

- Don't touch anything sticky

● Well, we all have a little bit of OCD right?

● Haha OCD, Obsessive Coffee Disorder, me too

● I could use a bit of OCD cause my room is a mess

None of these are very nice nor are they all that accurate. They're actually all pretty insulting.

What I say in response as someone who genuinely suffers from OCD:

● I have OCD so I...

- Need all fonts in a document or slide show to be the same or someone's going to get a really bad headache or go blind from trying to read it

- Can't step on a crack in the sidewalk or it's going to either collapse under me and I'm going to fall in, or the crack is going to spread through the whole Earth and it's going to explode

- Need to count every chair in a theater or classroom 3 times in Danish before I can sit down or it's going to be the wrong spot and someone will get mad at me

- Am not allowed to throw away anything cause every piece of paper might be exactly what is needed someday and if I throw it away I'm not going to have it so the world will end

- Can't have more than 50 emails in my inbox at a time or it's going to overflow and I won't be able to find what I really need, I also need to check my email every 30 minutes or I'm going to miss a vital piece of information

● OCD is not something that everyone has some of, it is a condition that makes some things extremely hard for people to function in some cases. It isn't just the need for everything to be perfect, it is the overwhelming sensation of the fact that if you don't do this, something really bad is going to come out of it. Normally it isn't true, but the feeling is still there.

● It's OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, not anything else, you don't get to replace the C with any other word, it is what it is.

● Having OCD does not automatically make your room cleaner. And, it isn't something that you WANT, trust me. I have never met a single person who actually has been diagnosed with OCD who wants to have it. I honestly wish that I could read a book without going to the last page to see the number, writing down the pages where you reach halfway, one quarter, three quarters, all of the eighths, 10%, 20%, 30%, etc. without worrying that I'm never going to finish the book and I'm going to spend forever on it so I won't be able to read any other books that aren't this one ever again.

Wow that was a lot about my OCD, that's a whole lot longer than the other ones I've done so far. Hope you humans understand a bit more about OCD now, cause the media has portrayed it horribly.

[behindthewox]

Hello, Andrew here. This blog article was sent to me and I can assure you that this is not correct information but a reaction likely of those who were involved. This information likely stems from previous MoM or HM themselves, I guess, seeing that they have been banned properly recently (which I am only stating because you already stated it yourself, otherwise I would not give away who is or is not banned)

When I took over I made it very clear in an NB post that the harrassment of users, witch hunt on site, and generally toxic and disrespectful behaviour needs to stop. Everyone is more than welcome to share opinions, but this was not that, this was simply insanely rude behaviour that was based on wrong information given by the MoM/HM to the other leaders of WoP, who then compiled their letter. Which is also the reason why after all of this these other site leaders were put back into their positions after everything was cleared up.

I have banned a total of 4 people from 800-900 actives at the time for continuing their disrespectful behaviour and outright slandering (one of them later on) despite my very clear warning in the article (I was surprised that it was only so few, but almost everyone was just glad to be able to enjoy the website again). I also made an effort to respond to each single comment transparently and open minded. Many of the people who removed content or joined that group hype have talked to me, told me their opinions, and gave me the opportunity to work on their missing trust together. I am on good terms with almost all of the old staff with maybe 5 exceptions (MoM, HM for being the reason this went down and one old staff on bad terms; the other two people I am neutral towards as I never spoke with them and don't know their thoughts) Every old staff member who reached out to me has their own experiences and opinioms and don't always agree with me, but they are more than valued and often play important roles in our staff as well - whether student or grad. In fact, I really enjoyed every single talk with them and appreciate anyone who reached out despite their fear of rejection, as that takes a lot of courage

The old MoM and HM were banned later on, yes, you can feel free to ask them for the exact reason I put in. The previous behaviour of theirs is unwelcome on site, and they created a horrible environment for people at the time this happened, just because of a "money grabbing" feature that was completely changed back anyway for other reasons. One of them was still logging in on alt for reasons I don't really understand, because they made sure everyone knew their hate towards Dan and the site. So why log in almost regularly even after almost a year? I guess I know why ,but that is just an assumption, so I will not voice it here

Aside from that, if you paid attention to the site development, you would also see that since then (but not because of that), new users got free VIP, people with jobs get discount, linking accounts gets a whole 50% discount, and such

I am mostly replying to clear some things up because I don't enjoy reactions that are based on false facts. I wanted to stay on WoP US as a temporary solution, but the community has been loving and welcoming, which was really unexpected considering the circumstances they went through

This is something that happened almost a whole year ago now, I even unbanned one of the 4 bans that took place when I took over, so technically it is only 3

I hope that this could clear up confusion and misunderstanding. I would like to see this message public because I am mostly writing it for the very few that might end up seeing it. Considering the nature of this post, you already made up your mind about me and that is okay. But I want to give my insight first hand, as I don't enjoy someone trying to slander my name based on more accusations of those people who were banned for false accusations in the first place

Magical regards,

Andrew Sutherland (WoP US)

By the way, I am only asking this anonymously because of privacy concerns regarding this account (never use Tumblr anyway)

Added in a later message: "Andrew here again, please add this xD I saw that you have made clarifications regarding there possibly being more to these accusations, my response was mainly aimed towards the person asking the question, but I do admit that I thought that that message was originally from you, the blog writer, and only saw your response later on (I am not used to tumblr and on phone it doesnt show all on one screen, oops). Just wanted to clarify that as it may explain some wording of mine!"

No hard feelings on my side, thanks for the clarification! If I can share both sides of the story, that is what I want to do and you've allowed me to share yours. It's greatly appreciated and I hope this clears the air a little bit.

NOTE: I can't verify if this person is who they say they are, the anonymous submissions are anonymous to me as well. I have no reason to doubt or suspect that it's someone else writing in their name, but I want to note that with anonymity there is a risk of abuse and impersonation. I don't think that's the case here though.

[melrosing]

MATE I have a feeling I am so late to this but what happened to your job!

lmao! so much! but I don’t have it anymore! ok you didn’t ask for the full story lmao but im always in the mood for venting lately so the full tale under the cut on What Happened With My Job

so without getting into detail they have been absolute asses all year!! like with each other the women in my team are like Bosom Pals but apart from a handful of pleasant people they just have no time for me lol it’s very cliquey??

anyway. we had some really difficult clients in the Spring who were ready to throw in the towel at every stage of our work process bc it was unfamiliar territory for them. I was leading the project but really struggling to meet their insane expectations like it was HUNDREDS of emails a day from like 8AM to 8PM and their ‘head of’ sometimes swearing at me on calls with a dozen other people and thinking I can work magic and get [MAJOR CELEBRITY] involved in a thing for them when objectively I can’t and just scream. anyway my directors get really uneasy because this is a big client and they don’t want them getting scared off so when the client starts reaching a crescendo of frustration they fully just scapegoat me right at the end of the campaign (at which point our results are great! lmao) and say it will be Dealt With

around the same time I start to realise that the business is failing and my ‘specialist position’ is typically the first kind to go and that COINCIDENTALLY they are on my ass day after day trying to insist im not meeting their ‘standards’ and genuinely making up the most insane reasons why not (like I know I’d be biased saying this but SERIOUSLY) so im like ohhh right. I see where this is going

THEN my dad gets goddamn incurable brain cancer and my whole life falls apart. and they suddenly have to be like ‘oh no. I am sorry this has happened. oh dear.’ I’m off two weeks having a complete mental breakdown until im kindly reminded that cough I’ve almost used up my statutory days of compassionate leave! but per company guidelines they do have to manage my workload whilst i er. struggle indefinitely w the emotional burden?? so my capacity is thus reduced and man you can tell they’re not thrilled about it

so they basically check in every Friday for a month saying ‘hope everything is ok can you take on more work yet’ CONSPICUOUSLY never asking how anything is going with dad (like when I first logged back in I had a catch up with my line manager and kind of tremulously started talking about what had happened and she literally said ‘it’s ok you don’t need to tell me the details’)

THEN I get GASTROENTERITIS 💃🏻 god knows how. but it’s a bad one and I physically can’t eat for a week man I eat like a banana a day and even that makes me sick lol. but whatever the first day I phone in and tell my director im not well. she’s like ‘WELL I ACTUALLY HAVE SO MUCH TO MANAGE RIGHT NOW SO THIS REALLY ISN’T HELPFUL LIKE I GET YOU CAN’T HELP BEING SICK BUT I REALLY NEED TO BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY TEAM TO SUPPORT COS WE HAVE A LOT COMING UP’ (I’m not even kidding)

so on the third day I log back in bc I feel like I need to just push through it but oh no im still vomiting my guts out so I message the same director ‘look I think maybe. I am still sick’ and she says NOTHING in response till I suddenly get a text from my LINE MANAGER saying ‘Hi. X says you say you still don’t feel well. We understand it’s food poisoning. That usually only lasts 24 hours’. LIKE??? apparently with all the compassionate leave I’d had to take, the sick leave was just too much for them to bear lmao so i got myself a goddamn doctor’s note and have to announce every day for the rest of that week ‘I’m still not well sorry’ (they never ever reply)

Then finally I recover and I log back in and my director doesn’t ask me how I am or anything literally just says ‘WELL let’s get straight to business’ and explains the status of everything at me for 20 mins going on about how stressful it all is.

And then an hour later I get a surprise call from my head of department telling me unforch they’re making me redundant. can’t be helped. understand this is a bad time for you personally. (said head of department has never addressed what bad thing is happening personally rn). and im in shock. till i figure that what with my dad this is probably an appalling time to make up some performance based reason to fire me so this was their only option

and then finally I see the paperwork and realise severance pay is a third of my annual salary. so i promptly get over it, log out halfway through the month whilst still being paid for my time till the end of it, and NOT ONE of those fuckers has even reached out to say goodbye in all that time but god knows I never want to hear from them again so?? fuck it! i told HR everything anyway I was like look I don’t want to take formal action but?? I think you should know.

and now im just gonna chill for Christmas w my dad and my fam and my pals and my cats and do my weird asoiaf shit on tumblr I guess lol. so there we go that’s what happened!!!!

tl;dr got made redundant lol