#you can *want* to forgive someone and be unable to because they were shitty to you its called

[astralmarionette]

writing an akutagawa-kyouka (not ship) vent fic except its a hurt/comfort vent fic bc its what wouldve made ME feel better if anyone has issues with it GET OVER IT idc this isnt abt you <3

[katszumi]

part one but can be read as a standalone!

today’s the day— the six year reunion for all the graduated u.a students. the day bakugou was internally dreading.

he didn’t want to attend, but because of shitty hair, he basically had no other choice. he thought it was stupid, annoying even considering the fact he still works with some of his old classmates.

plus, bakugou was never the type to attend gatherings. he hated the loud noise, busy moving bodies, and the useless small talk people had just to be respectful. none of it was apart of bakugou’s persona, not even his pr managers could change that.

but, he also knows the slight possibility of you being there. he knows someone extended the invite to you, back then every single classmate loved you.

since the night he rudely brushed you off, you haven’t been in contact with him once. his messages still delivered green, and you unable to show on any of his social media. for him, you only existed as a fragment of his memory other than the times you appear on television or the news.

you seemed to be thriving in america. the first year you went, he remembers seeing an article online on how you quickly climbed the ranks in america, the americans instantly adoring everything about you. despite your hero name and quirk, fans began to relate you to a siren, claiming how you were too captivating and powerful to be true. soon, citizens also began to recognize you as the star-spangled siren.

no doubt, bakugou thought it was hilarious. it was something so incredibly stupid. but it was also a reminder that you accomplished your dream. you were a great hero. all of your fears from six years ago were disregarded, and you proved to yourself that you built yourself up by yourself with no support system.

he always knew you were the strongest within the class. maybe that’s why he always felt so weak in front of you. he didn’t stand a chance against you, especially when he finds your figure standing by the bar.

you were messing with your drink, engaging in conversation with mina and ochako. those were the girls always attached at your hip back then.

at first he questions himself whether to squeeze himself in the conversation, or to leave you be. he figured that if you wanted to talk to him then you would’ve reached out years ago.

but before he could act on anything, your gaze meets his. it feels like time on every clock comes to a halt.

he takes in your new differences from the last time he saw you. you grew an inch or two taller, which he found hilarious since you used to pray to be taller. you’re a little more tan; bakugou remembering somewhere in a textbook that the states received more hours of sunlight than japan. you’ve matured more in your face; you were always the girl he found cute. but now, your gazing eyes were more fierce, your pouting lips that he often found himself sneaking glances at were parted, and your newly developed body; your arms were more toned, your body a tad more curvaceous.

enamored wasn’t even the right word to describe bakugou. an understatement even.

it’s all too strange how he felt a pulsation in his chest, his heart hammering from the small moment of eye-contact. he believed that he got over you, coming to terms that there’d never be a chance that you’d talk to him with dancing eyes and a grin on your face like before. but, oh boy, was he wrong.

guilt immersed him. he was angry with himself for treating you like you didn’t matter. everything you said that day, you were right. he didn’t tell you anything related to his emotions, he was avoiding you for weeks, and he was a dick for simply letting you go. he knew all of this, even years ago he realized. bakugou wasn’t the type to go back on his word nor apologize.

but in order for you to talk to him with even a fake smile on your face, he would have to do just that. though, it was you— he wouldn’t mind getting down on both knees, begging for you to forgive him if he had to.

pathetic, bakugou would say, who in their right mind would do something like that? but he would. because six years later, bakugou was still pathetically in love with you.

mina noticed your shift in eye, so she peered over her shoulder, searching the area for what grabbed your attention. it was quick the way she noticed it was him that snatched your breath. her eyes widened for a small moment before turning her head once again.

mina was probably talking shit about him, that was no surprise. even though he and mina got together well, you and mina were attached at the hip; she valued you more than him. he easily read mina’s body language, you must’ve told mina the situation long ago from the way she placed her palm on your arm and rubbed it gently.

unfortunately, he didn’t care if you or mina would be frustrated with his audacity. if anything, everything he was going to do from this point on was because he cared so much about you. so fuckin’ much he’d drain the ocean dry to prove his love to you.

bakugou had only fallen in love twice. once with you and once with a mirror. one, a destructive on-going path without a clear result. one, someone so far-fetched yet still warm and beautiful. someone that eventually in time becomes part of the oxygen he needs to breathe.

the mirror was the first-choice. becoming the number one hero was his only objective, no matter the opportunity cost, he was going to do anything to reach his goal. halfway through, he realized he chose wrong.

there was no point in reaching the goal without you. you were his hands and feet, so why did he expect himself to be okay with the situation he caused?

bakugou hated defeat, he already knows that. but he’d be damned if he allowed you to slip through his fingers once more.

and just like that, his legs are moving towards you and mina. his mind consisted of nothing; he had no words ready for you, no apology prepared. he just sees you and, like always, he needs to be in your vicinity.

as he marches towards you, he realizes that it’s always been like this, him chasing you to his hearts desire. at the beginning, it was a light jog nothing that would cause him to break a sweat. soon it turned into a full-blown sprint, the gap between you and him seeming to increase every day.

before he could muster anything to say, he makes it to you. he keeps his distance from you so you don’t run away, but enough that he can see the pores on your face.

you ogle at him, your face twisted a bit. mostly likely from the surprise of him trudging towards you as if nothing happened. mina rolled her eyes at him as she folded her arms.

“bakugou, don’t be one of those.” mina started.

“one of what?!”

she scoffed. “one of those obsessive guys when they realized they’ve lost a gem because they were stupid as fuck.” mina him a ‘that’s you’ look. “don’t come crawling back now.”

bakugou opened his mouth to object mina, prepared to go off on her. just a week ago, she was chatting it up with him, kirishima, and denki, no animosity found in any of her statements. but since you were here, she supposed she had to play the part as the protective best-friend.

but before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

“it’s fine, mina.”

your voice was still the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. so gentle and euphonious. he wanted to thank the heavens on the earth for allowing him this opportunity again even when he’s a shitty guy. he didn’t deserve you, he knew that, but he couldn’t bypass the overwhelming feeling of yearning you.

he shifted in his position, clearly shocked that you didn’t seem to hate the fact he was standing within your vicinity.

mina also shocked, raised a brow at her best-friend. “you sure babes?” you nodded in response. the pink colored woman leaned into her ear, whispering god-knows what, before walking away with ochako to leave you and him alone.

you faced bakugou fully now, your eyes taking in the subtle distinctions he’s made over the years. bakugou always was one of the strongest in the class, but even now, he developed into a rigorous man. you can tell he’s shaved recently, the small hairs on his chin slowly starting to form. his eyes are more relaxed, seeming more generous.

alike him, you too kept post on bakugou in japan. you’d frequently find yourself searching him on the internet to wonder how he’s doing. just like he told you and everyone else at u.a, he was now the number one hero of japan. he proved to all his doubters that he could do it.

you were proud of him, internally rooting him on from 6,303 miles away. however, externally, you masked a look of resentment for him.

he broke your heart when he pushed you away. you didn’t understand why it was so difficult for him to come clean about things, especially when it came to you.

you had enough of it.

or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself, hoping for your heart to believe it as your mind did.

“hi,” you said. he could tell you were nervous from the way your hand slightly trembled. “long time no see.”

bakugou anxiously chuckled, “yeah.” he instinctively ran his fingers through his hair as he swallowed nothing. “look, i’m not even going to waste any time with this. y/n, i am so fuckin’ sorry.” his tone softened, coming from the deepest part of him. you can’t recall a time where his voice ever sounded so tender like this.

“kat—” you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“no, i mean it. i am sorry for being a coward. i was a fool for treating you like you didn’t matter to me when that wasn’t the case, it was never the case. you were too good for me and that scared me. i’m rough on the outside, i couldn’t imagine savoring someone so mellow. i’m a pathetic asshole, a bitch, a cunt.”

you reached forward to place your hand on his wrist. “don’t say such things about yourself, katsuki. you are not any of those things.”

“don’t be good with me. i don’t deserve to be treated this way. give me the punishment i deserve for causing you anguish.” he begged. unknowingly, his hands slipped into yours. you could feel his sweat accumulate, his shaky hands.

all of this just for you to forgive him. how could you ever despise him when he’s an emotional wreck in the palm of your hands?

“it’s okay, katsuki. i’ve come to forget about it years ago. you’re one of the best things to happen to me during my adolescence. we were young and we both said things we didn’t mean back then.” bakugou looks at you with a pout. “i forgive you.”

you pull bakugou into a hug, wrapping your arms around him. you almost had forgotten how much bigger his figure was compared to yours until he bear-hugs you.

“how long are you staying until you leave for america?” he asks.

“i was going to wait till the end of the night to share this, but i was never one to hold secrets from you.” you released bakugou from the hug, a smile tugging your lips. “i’m coming back to japan.”

“what? but america… why?” he scrambled for words.

you lightly shrugged, “not my kind of place. i also really missed my home.”

“fuckin’ hell,” his words trailed off. bakugou couldn’t imagine the happiness that was coming from him right now. in his mind, he thanked kirishima for dragging him here. “i’m so relieved.”

you laughed, one that bakugou could tell wasn’t fake. he couldn’t help but to smile. he was finally talking to you, the woman he loved, after six long years. he was unsure if he could survive another minute of you ignoring him.

“so, back then, did you?”

“did i what?”

“back then, did you like me? did i really mean something to you?”

bakugou tried to remember if you were ever this dense? what a stupid fuckin’ question, bakugou thinks.

“you were the first person ever to tell me to have desires and to not hold back.” he explains. “did i like you? y/n, i loved you. every part of you, i loved. hell, i still do.” it seemed easier for him to confess, maybe it was from the adrenaline he was feeling in this moment.

but he didn’t care, if anything he was glad. you needed to hear it just as much he needed to admit it to himself.

“then, let’s start over, katsuki. let’s ditch this place, i know you’re not a big fan of parties anyway.”

bakugou knows all too well, he loves it how you remember the smallest parts of him. he loves your consideration and emotional warmth that you’re always quick to offer. even though, the gates were open for you to leave, you stayed.

he knew that his love for you would last a lifetime and would always welcome you with sweet grace and a humble gratitude.

all he can do is nod in response, hoping to suppress his racing heartbeat.

bakugou takes your hand to lead you to the exit of the party. “my job here is done anyway.”

@b134ch-m4h-ey3z @bsallergy

[lxcalmenace]

I Was Wrong, If Only I Knew.

When the usually so cold and reserved Rin Itoshi agreed to go out for dinner with you, you couldn't help getting excited but also a part in you was awfully suspicious of his sudden change in his behavior. You finally learnt the despondent truth when it was time to meet for the dinner.

A Rin Itoshi series (on-going)

Highschool AU

Chapter 3 Masterlist Chapter 5

Chapter 4: You and your filthy 'sorrys'

Gn! Y/n

Tw: Swearing, Slight angst

Taglist (open)

@hellothere9597 @ririgards @legoome @dtaliah @qyuvna

-----------------------------------------☆

Why? Why now out of all times? Can't he just leave me alone? I've seen enough already. Don't want to see his face, hear his voice. Just be gone already! I hate him- I hate you Rin Itoshi

.

.

.

You and Shidou were having breakfast when someone rang your doorbell. Getting up from your chair, you made way towards the door and opened it. The happiness on your face was now replaced with something representing bitterness. Eyes now wide, your body froze in its place. You never expected this, not once.

There was Rin. Standing at your door, rain pouring down as his wet clothes clinged to his toned body. He knows that he messed up and he also knows that you won't forgive him, but nevertheless, he decided to visit. After what felt like years, your eyes met his. No one uttered a word as the sound of rain pitter-pattered around you. He tried to avoid your gaze, unable to muster up the courage to say anything. Silence followed until finally you muttered something.

"Do you need anything?," You tried to sound calm

"Uhm I'm....I'm sorry I guess. I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright," you cut him off, "I forgot about it honestly"

You shrugged your shoulders and stared at him, internally hoping that your voice didn't give away your nervousness and pain. You heard Shidou behind, he was probably coming to check for the reason of your absence. If Shidou saw Rin he would definitely make a scene, so it was better if Rin left right now. You said a quick 'goodbye' to Rin and tried to close the door only for it to be blocked by Rin.

"Hey wait up! Do you forgive me?"

Too late. The damage has already been done.

"Yeah it's alright. You can leave now."

Too late again. Shidou was already opening the door wide open.

.

.

.

Silence.

The tension in the air crackled like static. Every breath you took seemed strained, as if the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions bore down on the room. Anyone who knew Shidou well could easily tell that Shidou was pissed; Really pissed. Jaw clenched and his sharp gaze fixed on Rin. Heart now pounding hard against your chest, you swallowed the lump formed in your throat. The two taller males just stared down each other, no one daring to utter a single word. Heart now pounding hard against your chest, you swallowed the lump formed in your throat. The two taller males just stared down each other, no one daring to utter a single word.

"You seriously had the audacity to show up today after all the shitty things you did??" The blond's tone laced with poison, "Y/N doesn't need you and your filthy 'sorrys' so get the fuck out from her life."

And even before the Itoshi could say anything, the door was slammed shut. Your eyes widen as Shidou stormed inside. Practically frozen, you stood there motionless because you never saw this side of Shidou. The situation got even more worse and honestly, you didn't want to face neither of them.

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A/n: Omg I am so busy with college that I forgot that I had a Tumblr acc. so sorry for the long absence. I'll try to post atleast one post every 2 weeks. Really sorry because yall had to wait for so long. Have a great day <3

[miss-revy-1412]

Uncle Murad is a terrible dad Mehmed needed hugs and therapy

No, if you think I'm gonna defend his SA attempt on MC then take a chill pill because that's not gonna happen!!!!!

But……..

I might advocate how Uncle Murad was a terrible father to a child who literally went paralyzed for life. and how certain actions can cost your dear ones really badly a.k.a Lale getting nearly r*ped and traumatised for life.

First of all, what as a parent will you do to a chid if they lose their mother aka you lose a wife?

Option A: Try to raise them up by yourself. Option B : Arrange child care for them and listen to their pain Or Option C : Throw them away from your house and then call them back when you lose all your children?

Guess what our uncle did!!!

He banishes this child, doesn't even try to give him education ignores him for 9 years, no contact and has always had low hopes from his own kid because, his favorite kids died one by one like Dominoes falling plus he is the reminder of his wife's death? I mean WTF what did that child even do to you? She's dead and you should instead cope and try to make amends with your kid. Is this what good parents do? Also them he goes roasting his own wife in Season 2 that she was not smart and beautiful woman but, I felt pity

Me: Excuse me her child literally is not such reminder and also if you felt pity why banishing your child like a savage?

Are these signs of ignorant dad? Yes it is indeed. Do you think why Mehmed has esteem issues, behaviour issues, unable to talk to opposite gender in respectable manner and even erratic behaviour for no reason?

All of his sh+tty flaws are result of an ignorant, hostile charged-energy environment and seeing woman just as bodies not getting love or even a break and seeing everything as property to conquer a.k.a : Lale was gonna pay some sh*t for real even if he met her later or soon and that's what makes his character even mid. I want to hate his shitty actions but, as I see this plot sometimes I feel If mental asylum were available he be patient for life and he might have changed for real but sadly 14th century there was no psychology and therapy

The therapy you can give him is: "Awww, he's so tragic let me forgive him to fix him!" Pffft !

An irony even to see is his dream in S4E7 , Lale appears to be taking care of his mental status after her lost his "mind".

Also, this guy was satanized as a child doesn't even remember his own mother well and worse his underdeveloped hypothalamus was f*cked the day Mephis did voodoo magic on his body and mind and hence you have a psychotic son and ruler depending on your relationship with Mehmed.

Perhaps this scene and the actions of uncle literally triggered something in me and I found Mehmed more reasonable for hating his father in my case it was my grandmother.

Seriously, who would think RC would trigger my life event technically I also faced same shit as child as abandoned of someone's love ?

Apparently, this is why I can't love Uncle Murad as a character one point he does something good but, then he also does something terrible too.

And yes he went old he started to realise he did wrong to Mehmed yet, they still have a strained relationship even the adult Mehmed claims in recent update how Uncle never made ammends with him and just saw him his "heir" but not in a loving manner but just a placeholder.

Moral of the story: Don't throw children out when they need you the most or else be ready to have consequences and a very rough and evil offsprings.

Mehmed can be anything depending on you views given he's a complex character

He can be shit He can be redeeming , He can improve, He can be an asshole, He can be a predator, He can be tragic

Thank you !

[obstinaterixatrix]

someone I follow mentioned this being A Formative Movie for them so I made my family sit down and watch it with me. I feel like the pacing is really weird but I actually liked it, it’s a cinderella musical that is *super* fixated on the political side of things lol.

there’s also some pretty interesting character stuff… when the stepmother is being cartoonishly evil in her introduction, cinderella looks So Fucking Pissed, she looks like she wants to kill her stepmom so so badly. the prince has a jaunty song in the family crypt about how he’s going to be buried amongst his shitty relatives, and is also kind of an idiot and it is highlighted—his servant talks about being unable to get married to the woman he loves and the prince is like ‘what! why not!’ and the servant has to go like ‘the class difference.’ also the fairy godmother is an overbooked project manager, I actually quite like how the midnight deadline was explained because she was like ‘yeah I have to borrow magic to pull this off so it’s gotta be returned by midnight :/‘ and in general she’s kind of a little shit on purpose so that’s fun.

oh, also, cinderella’s really short. it’s actually so funny, when they have the glass slipper the king is looking at it like ‘holy shit this is so small. it’s like half the size of your mother’s. this is disturbing.’ like honestly I do believe there is one (1) woman in the land who can fit in this shoe. oh also-also when cinderella is leaving her stepmother she says “in my happiness I forgive you :)” DAMN!!! PETTY!!! I loved that actually.

there were also some really cool shots, like when the clock’s striking midnight there’s a shower of petals as she runs down the stairs. I wasn’t really compelled by the music, I liked the instrumentals and the lyrics were serviceable. The one song I really liked was ‘He/She Danced With Me’ because 1) it’s a charming tune, 2) there’s a part where cinderella sings:

Though this lovely night was only a fantasy

And I know tonight is all there will ever be...

Dancing in his arms forever

My heart will never be free...

and she’s singing it joyfully, twirling in a field and having a great time while being very Yep That’s It! One Nice Night! At Least It Was A Good One. meanwhile the prince is in an empty ballroom, cinderella’s shoe on the floor while he does their dance alone, utterly despondent while singing:

Could it be that she was only a fantasy?

Could it be tonight is all there will ever be...?

Dancing in her arms forever;

My heart will never be free...

really liked that part :)

[julian-jacoss]

I forgive you (or another theory, of which there are already many)

So, we all remember Aziraphale's phrase "I forgive you". There was a lot of speculation, the whole fandom is still guessing why he forgives Crowley, and I don't know if someone has already expressed the opinion that I'm about to write, but I haven't seen it (because I don't watch the whole tumblr), so I can speak up. (Actually, this is my friend's opinion, and I, like most of the fandom, sat in tears and couldn't understand why he forgave Crowley.)

Let's look at this whole scene again. Maybe what I'm about to say will make sense. Or maybe it won't. In any case, you have nothing to lose by reading this.

The first thing I want to say is that no one betrayed anyone. They just didn't hear each other. And that's why all this shit happened.

Let's go back to the beginning. When Metatron offered Aziraphale to return to Heaven, and with such a great condition as the restoration of Angel status for Crowley. We can see how happy Aziraphale was to tell Crowley about it. After all, the Angel realizes that Heaven is shitty, at the moment, and he believes he can fix it all. Together with Crowley. And Aziraphael runs to tell Crowley the news that they can build a new Heaven together, and thinks that of course Crowley will be excited about the prospect of returning to Heaven with him and changing it together. To make everything the way it really should be. Aziraphale remembers how happy Crowley was when he created the universe, the stars, how he enjoyed and rejoiced in it, and he was an Angel then. And he also knows that Crowley doesn't like Heaven now, so he thinks, he believes, that he can make a Heaven in which Crowley will want to be an angel with him.

But this is not the message Crowley sees in his words. From his words he draws the conclusion that Aziraphale is not satisfied with the fact that he is a demon. That he wants to remake Crowley to become an Angel. Do you see the line? Aziraphale wants to remake Heaven with Crowley, but Crowley understands it to mean that Aziraphale wants to remake HIM in Heaven. And so he gets angry. He feels betrayed, because they were friends for so many years, they had a connection, and then he hears Azirafail say "go and become an Angel again".

So he gets upset, reacts very negatively to this proposal and refuses Aziraphale, and now at this moment the Angel feels betrayed, because he ran to Crowley to say that they could make the world a better place together, but he realized that Crowley did not want to make the world a better place with him. Aziraphale is also offended, and he feels sad.

So Crowley suggests that they run away together, just like Gabriel and Beelzebub did. He literally almost says, "Man, we can run away and live together. Just you and me. Without Heaven and Hell. We can be free together, without any restrictions." This is his idea of their happy life together.

And again, I emphasize, Aziraphale feels betrayed, and Crowley feels betrayed.

They are not selfish, they want happiness for each other. They think about what is best not only for themselves but also for the other. However, they did not hear and understand each other. They heard and understood something completely different, something that their partner did not mean at all. Both saw the other's proposal as a betrayal. And this ruined everything.

It happend. They are both offended and unable to accept any new arguments. When people are offended (we will exclude the fact that they are not people), they are not able to digest new arguments that the other person can tell them to explain their opinion. That is, no matter how many arguments they bring up after the point of conflict, they will still not see any positive aspects in them. They will only feed their resentment, aggression in a sense, and so on.

A kiss takes place. We can see how much desperation and pleading there is in this kiss. Perhaps this is the last attempt to leave Aziraphale on Earth, perhaps it's just desperation, perhaps it's some other option, which are enough on the tumblr and I don't see the point of writing them.

And this phrase "I forgive you". It doesn't refer to the kiss at all (he doesn't forgive him for the kiss), because a few seconds ago he was offended (they both were). He forgave him for WHAT he was offended by.

He realizes that Crowley loves him and that's it.

That's all I wanted to say. They just needed to cool down and talk again. But that didn't happen.

(And if it had, it's unlikely we could have had any hope for a third season. Their story would have ended. The end of the Good Omens.)

And now we have this interesting thing that makes @neil-gaiman do a victory dance.

(Якщо ти зараз читаєш цей текст без перекладача, значить розумієш українську😏 а це значить, що я можу запросити тебе на наш канал по добрим передвісникам у телеграмі😚 Місце, де ти можеш покричати на другий сезон, і поусміхатися з деяких едітів та артів, та, звичайно, поплакати. Лиш поглянь на це🙃👉 https://t.me/good_omens_ua )

[faerieinferngully]

trigger warning (just overall)

even tho i hope nobody rly sees this i just want to say SOMETHING even if it's to a void.

i can't get over it. i can't get over how many times i tried to tell someone and then nothing happened, and when i finally just came out and said it, i was called a liar and am still being called a liar. how nobody could see what was going on. is it because i couldn't remember the details correctly? im sorry that 12 year old me couldn't recall the rape an molestation of what started when i wasn't even potty trained yet. im sorry i couldn't give exact dates and im sorry i didnt save the underwear he took off of me. im sorry that your kids having a father was mor important than getting them away from a rapist. im sorry for my siblings for backing out and being called liars and being told that i was the one that told them to, i didn't. i told you to ask them because i fucking knew what was happening every time you were gone and he wanted to play hide n seek n he switched from counting with me in the room with all the lights off to one of them. he was doing the same thing to them. you can even see the effects of it in them. one is too scared to go anywhere and hates being away from home or her family and the other has been hypersexual and hyperfixates on sex since he was little. you can see everything i am in him and i dont know if it's because i know why i was like that when i was little that i see it so clear or if it's just that blatantly obvious that you're choosing to ignore it. i don't know if you really thought i was lying or you just didn't care and wanted a family that wasn't broken. you didn't get it. im sorry to my siblings and friends for when i was stuffing powder in my nose and swelling down little pebbles and drinking fluids i thought would make it go away. i was a shitty person and there are people im unable to apologize to and i respect their need to be away from me. i know im better off without the medicated candies and the sour liquid, but i can't help but miss it. it made me feel better but it was at the cost of others. i can get past the people that have beaten me, but i can't get past being raped and i don't know why. maybe it's because the first one who did it was someone who was so loud about hating it. did he start when i was a baby or did he wait until i was a toddler because he liked seeing me try to get away from him? everyone knows i "lied" about him doing it, very few people know that it was never a lie. i remember in third grade when we lived in the townhouses, and i told my neighbors. one of them told me her brother did the same thing to her, we told our friend. we both went back and took it back. i didnt know why she did it, but now i see it was the same reason i did, that we were scared. we were scared of what was going to happen to us. we were scared of what was going to be said, what our families were going to do. i wish i protected my siblings from it. but i didnt, and i couldnt. i know people have told me i was a baby myself, it wasnt my duty, but it was. i was the oldest, i am the oldest. i shouldve made sure they were never alone with him, but i couldn't find the courage to get us out. i was a fucking coward and i'll never be able to forgive myself for it. i hate myself for letting it happen to them. i hate myself for so many things but that is the main thing that will always be burning within me. i wish i told her sooner, because even though she got back with him, he stopped afterwards. something i've always found funny was that when he was allowed to be with us again, he took me to the store with him alone. i remember being terrified he was going to go off the path we were walking to touch me more. but he asked why i lied. we were alone. he had no reason to accuse me of lying when he asked in the same townhouse if i "like what we're doing" and acted hurt when i said no. we always called it "tickling" because that's what it started as. he would always start tickling me and then pul my pants and underwear down and start rubbing it there. then he would keep going until the time we were alone and quiet (when someone else was in the house) would seem weird, because none of us kids were

[ram-de]

[read] white trash warlock

idk when I'll be continuing good omens and evelyn hardcastle im sorry christian apocalypse and murder time loop... I'll get back one day

ANYWAY

After reading extraordinaties, and then all of us villains (and demise) I think I'm growing fond of the fantasy as a genre. I've read several pjo books and I think Harry potter in my teenage years but my English comprehension wasnt as good as how I am right now (writing is a different thing) so I think I missed a lot of clues and all lol there's always stuff I get confused and read back. I wondered what the hell happens at some points. I've read more contemporary dramas the past few months. BUT... Damn fantasy opens up a lot of interesting scenarios... And... I crave for more👉👈 good thing there's a basically infinite supply of fantasy stories

What I know about this book? White trash warlock... Is well, it's an urban fantasy. Meaning, as far as I understand it, a lot of fantasy tropes are implemented in the more usual contemporary setting. Did I get that right? I dont know.

The premise is... Some peeps can see through The Sight, a different kind of dimension(?) that dwells and live in basically the same place. The main protagonists are this guy Adam and his brother. They were estranged until one day Adam's brother asks him for help.

-----((++-------

Alright. COOL LIZARD PEOPLE... I can't really image what the hell cue is. My English comprehension isn't as good as I thought💀 alright. So theres this stuff that a guy made out of like, magical peeps creatures remains to make some kind of magical items. Cues? And Adam is pursuing the guy making these things. He's also been thrown away by his family simply because he has an affinity with magical entities, albeit weak.

His brother Robert is a guy with a wife whose unable to have child for like three times. And she's... She's nursing a blob of magical creature... Uh... Why am I doing a summary... BACK TO THE PROGRAM...

Ouu I like myself some groveling plot, asking for help after you kicked your brother out is low. I expect some good asking for forgiveness... Lmao

_-_---------------

There's gonna be a lot of angst isn't there sghsgshsh like family drama

So people just powers up (Sight) randomly from genetics?? Witch > warlock > whatever Adam is. Living with someone that can predict the future must've sucks like dont spoil me old lady💀

Why does the story gave me the shivers im lowkey scared it's making me think of my own future shzgshhs fiction is supposed to be an escape stopppp

Oh bobby is an ass screw him I'd call him another slime but he's probably gonna have a redemption one way or another and I know it's gonna be good

_--------_______----

I didn't miss that Aunt Sue didn't promise him anything when he asked if she'll be there when he returns. This lady can see the future (tho idk if it extends to her own's) OH SHE'S GONNA BE DEAD...

The Liberty House is some kind of a conversion therapy esque kind of school? oh the mom and the bro is shitty fr SLIMES YOU ALL

Adam my skilled ghostbuster son🤲 (I've never watched ghostbuster) ((he's older than me))

I don't actually know if I can read through this estranged distant painful family drama (for Adam, screw his mom)

Ouu... That's a bit chilling. WORLD BUILDING... LORE... APOCALYPSE INCOMING...

Bob guy irritates me as he should. Excellent characterization! I want him eradicated!

Is this an insta-love trope um😭 not too fond of them but dhsgshjehd ill muster through...

Idk bob sending ur brother to something akin of a conversion therapy just because he had something akin of a mental illness (it's not mental illness it's magic though I'm sure with how it affected Adam that much it'd get him some) (even if it's mental illness, do you really send them off and never check up on them?...huh... Wait some people do that?😭)

----------------

One thing that I thought in stories is, in this modern age of cameras and CCTV, there's no way strange occurrences can be kept hidden to the rest of the world. What do you mean reaper came in the form of human host that awoke when someone is gonna die? Wouldn't someone bat an eye for public death if a stranger suddenly grew and turned their pencil into a schyte... In the broad daylight? He'd be the killer, then! (technically not but also, that's how grim reaper reap souls?) but what if it's just an accepted normalcies... If so why is this guy Adam thought as if it's a hidden secrets only witches knows. This felt like a nitpick😭 im sure there's like an in-world answer idk why this one stucks lol

Also Adam is a witch that's good to know

OUUU time stopped for the mortal side. I see. I'm stupid.

Nitpicking is fun because I act like I'm a better writer than wrjtert who put love and sweat into their creation, in the product of their world building and lore. Im sorry😔 So the next nitpick is, does the non-mortal magic creatures speak English?

Oh their dead is a cheater AND a deadbeat I NEED HIM TO PERISH

Ok not a cheater (yet, idk)

Adam and Bobby seems OK-ish during their childhood who wanna bet it's something with their dad that made them estranged

Imagine waking up with a stranger memories damn Adam this is why you don't tether your life to another... ARE THEY BASICALLY SHARING A BRAIN NOW

That's some body horror right there like whatever you thought about the other guy knows too and nothing to hide or nothing to keep to yourself no personality whatsoever and also no individuality LIKE... Maybe it's good if they're like a good person but what if they're doing it to rob your bank account or steal whatever

So they're like fated mates now ok ig

Bob my even if you think sending your bro to a mental institute is "the best" thing to do, why haven't you reached out to him after, like all this time.

I like that Adam kept reminding Bob of how much he hated him, like yea deservedaushhshsushsh the elves are such cool creatures argent is a queen silver is a king and yes. What question? Uh, any. Yes.

This guy hasn't moved on from his ex😭 get over it smh

Bruh I though he's offering his own car lmaoo Adam you're such a menace and elves are car thiefs!!

Is this a meet-cute? I don't know if it's a meet-cute but I liked it. I'm eating. I'm thriving so much. Vics accepting magic just like that contrasting to how Adam's bro and mom denied it all his life😭 augshsh

WAIT THIS IS CUTE I'M SOLD.... WHO CARES IT ITS INSTA LOVE ITS INSTA CUTE and I love cute things except real people's. Real life kinda sucks. But this... This is soft and fluffy😭

Bobby's reluctance and Adam's attunement to magic reminds me of kids stories. I mean, like Peter Pan, maybe? I don't know, I haven't watched Peter Pan. Like this one kid movie about a kid that have monster friend in the forest. They're like a big monster doll. I forgot what the movie is called. Or like this one show where a kid (human, live action) can visit his animal friends (cartoon, animated). Or like Narnia. Um... What's my point. What I'm saying is that fantasy is just a temporary thing, and how kid grown out of them after they're an adult. Bobby wanted Adam to have a /normal/ live, despite magic and magical world present and real and exists. In a way, Adam is stuck on his affinity with magic (and partly that's because his family rejected it in the first place. When he's scared of it, they put him to therapist and give him drugs, diagnosing it of something he's not rather than listening, helping him in a way that would accepts him too.) and contrast that with Bobby who's just over all of it (partly because his father, deadbeat and abusive, also have an affinity to magic)

Vic is a cutie😭

Hm... Silver can't be Perak, can't he? W. DNDHSHS WTF. UM. UMMM.... WHAT IN THE TRANSLATION IS THIS. UM. Silver is literally Perak in Indonesian😭 like that's the word translation. UM.????

Ojh my god A LOT OF LORE DROPPED

Huh... Wait. That's weird. Silver is Argentum in Latin...😭 Okay, that's three. A pattern. What does this means. Does elves names themselves after a variation of the word 'Silver' in several languages. Is Silver and Argent the same person? WHAT IS HAPOENDJNG

So Perak is just a different guy and elves just named after Silvers ooooookay

Oh there is it is I have zero skills for implied clues haha😭

Bruh the King is mad stupid for locking the single practicioner left alive to fought the spirit😭 like my man that thing lolled elves and humans and there you have a guy willing to fight for it, and you locked him and your son because they had a thing in the past?

31----- AHHH soft soft and fluffy my heart is warm

I think I'll explode if Adam ended up with Silver, dont pursue the immortal/mortal angst PLEASEEE vic is good, no, GREAT even

Vicente... Dreamy

So all this time Bobby's doing is just an influence of a higher being? Aw that's strangely unfulfilling, now the groveling doesn't seem justified and I'm not excited for, if it'd happen, anymore. That's disappointing.

Surely Argent isn't going to be ded right..

This flashback is painful😭 I can sorta get why Bobby would send Adam to the house but really he's sending him for another years of hurt. Adam:( His dad is abusive. His mom is passive. And his brother no longer protects him.

Okay... So it's not necessarily a higher being puppeteering Bobby, sort of give him a way, leading him into it. That makes it better. Because what Bobby had done is still horrible.

AAH it ended. It's a HFN, definitely. And I'm... Why do I felt like I expected more of an ending? It doesn't really tie up a lot of loose knots. like his family problem (which is fair, since it's taken a lot of time.) I DID NOT SEE ANY GROVELLING, HMM? even the sorries felt lackluster like it's just unsaid and they just accepted it for what it is. Which is also fair, since they've been through a lot. but ALSO... the thing with Vic. Like... We don't even see him in the last chapter😭 and this guy Adam is going to go again to look for the warlock. UM. DO I READ THE SEQUELS...

Yes. Yea I will be. But I'll pace it out... I can do self-restraint (I can't)

[alextheavoidant]

Blah blah blah

Well, this blog is pretty much just a dumping ground for my thoughts at this point, so I might as well just get as much out as I can. Easier said than done though. Kind of like having to take a real big shit. There's so much of it because you've been holding it in for so long and that pizza just had way too much cheese. But there is no pizza just a moldy block of shitty cheese that was force fed to you by someone else who can't shit out their own cheese. Yeah... that's an analogy.

Forgive me if I don't put too much thought into what I'm saying. I really don't care. This is the first time I have given myself permission to express myself, unfiltered and uninhibited by what others might think. So if I find that I am eloquently vulgar and unpleasant, well I guess that's just me. Hope you don't mind.

One of the most unpleasant things about life is the functions of the body. I often wish I just simply be a mind, unattached to the physical realm, but still a part of it. If that makes any sense. There is so much about life that I love and enjoy. So many things I appreciate and can't imagine living without. So many things I am grateful for and wouldn't change for the world. But there are also many, many things that make living nearly unbearable. I'd be lying if I said there weren't times when I wanted to give up. Many times. But suicidal ideation has never been an issue for me, thankfully. I could never kill myself. I'm far too squeamish when it comes to my body. I couldn't even climb the monkey bars as a kid because I was worried about getting blisters on my hands.

No, my self-harm, rather than coming from action, comes from a place of inaction. Of... well, avoidance. Depression and anxiety caused me to take very little care of myself. As a result, my body has been damaged permanently as a result of simply not taking care of it. In ways that are not only painful and difficult to manage, but embarrassing as well. And it's only recently that I am really starting to see just how severe my mental health has been for... pretty much my entire life.

I was a selective mute in school, starting in first grade. I had a few friends, but none that carried over into adulthood, and I never felt like I was ever able to effectively connect with them or really be myself because I was always so worried about what people would think. Even those close to me, I feel, even to this day, has never really known the real me. The only person I think who has ever really seen me is my therapist. As they are the only person who I have ever really been able to be honest with.

I always felt the need to like what others liked or disliked what everyone else hated. It took a long time to really find the ability to gauge my own feelings about things. This could become very awkward when I found find myself in a situation with two people in a disagreement who wanted my opinion. I would completely short circuit and be unable to answer, as I knew either way I would make someone upset. And that scenario is one of many reasons I found to isolate more an more as social interactions were a mine field of inner turmoil, even with the most minute of interactions.

I am happy to say that today, I am much more connected to my true, authentic self. In a way, as my therapist puts it, I always have been. I've just been too afraid to express it. I never felt like I was allowed to express it because I was taught from a young age that everything about myself was bad and wrong. Every single thing I did and said was scrutinized, scoffed at. Glared at with distain and asked how I could be so stupid. She still does this to me, to this day. My "mother".

It's taken a lot of hard work to try and tune her out, as I am too damn broken to live and exist on my own at this point. I have spent the past ten years trying to "reparent" myself, through therapy and education and a lot of self-help and self-care. I have successfully managed to rewire my brain in many aspects of my thought processes, but it was not easy. And I'm still working on it. It is an amazing thing through, when I stop and realize what I have accomplished. I have achieved things I never, ever even imagined I would.

Like self-love. That's a big one. A huge one, in fact. To know I no longer hate myself. To know I am worthy of being my number one priority. To know I am not exceptionally disgusting, annoying, defective, unworthy. That I am not uniquely deserving of scorn, contempt, hatred and distain. That the agony of loneliness and the despair of feeling trapped does not have to be a running theme for the rest of my life. I can make it. I can change it. I have come this far and I am nowhere near stopping. I have been on this road long enough to know that it won't stop. It can't stop. As I, just the person that I am, am uniquely predetermined to move forward. As that is just my nature. That is the blessing in this hell. The solace in all this chaos.

I understand, now, the many things that have come before me. What lead to all this and where it might go. And while I cannot control the road that others choose to take, I can carve out my own path. Through the brush. Through the jungle to which they fear and dare not venture. To find something better. Something sacred. Something whole.

Thanks for reading. Going back to my cave now. Baiiiiiii

[lighthousegod]

Hiiiii this was over a year or 2 ago I think but I have an update !!Huge giant tw, this is a Vent Post and a huge bummer!! I am focusing on negative interactions with one person and a decline of my mental health (not bc of the relationship, but definitely not helped by it). Depression can make you think your friends don't give a shit about you, but remember this isn't everybody. If you're depressed or generally insecure, I'd click off of this, fr. Official trigger warning ⚠️

-

I was reading my old post abt this person cause I remembered it, and I wanted some perspective.

To the person who reblogged,

Thank you for the advice!

Seeing your advice now, I kinda wish I would've seen this and taken it more to heart. I'm not sure when you reblogged, but our situations WERE(are?) Weirdly similar (hope that worked out better on your end, btw). Only thing different was that my friend is ALL about cutting ppl off. If someone does something, anything, deemed toxic and abusive to her or somebody else, she can just start hating them. Like a switch. Crazy shit, but anyway-

So. I did not get rid of the friend. And I'm still having issues with her. Surprise fucking surprise. Except, get this-

WE'RE ROOMMATES NOW. ROOMMATES.

IM SUCH A DUMBASS, MAN.

*Thomas Sanders Voice* Storytime!

Here is a timeline of the last year or so

-we both have a shitty encounter (not criminally shitty) with a guy from previous university. She gets a lot more hateful about it than me. She lies to me to go hang out with friends the day after who give her a shoulder to cry on, while I sit alone in my dorm the whole rest of the weekend. I tell her she's an ass for that, and she apologizes. I forgive her.

-me and friend's major gets cut from our university, forcing us to leave and find somewhere else to go. I had just made new friends.

-I move back in with my parents and my mental health takes a dip. (I'm transmasc and closeted, and they are very much unsupportive/conservative/alittlebitinsane)

-I hang out and sleep over with her frequently through the summer, and she claims to be a safe haven from my religious and conservative family (her family is supportive of her lgbt identities)

-I apply to a diff university for an animation degree and get in. She applies way later, for a different degree, and gets in as well.

-I tell her my depression is getting really bad and into suicidal ideation territory, so I need her to give the constant complaints a rest. She says shes sorry and agrees. She says she will try to be more considerate (this is the third time she's said this to me so far). She doesn't.

-one night before we leave for college round 2, at a sleepover, as we discuss our respective bad father figures. She drops an "oh, but mine was worse." I make an annoyed face and she immediately backtracks. Says she didn't mean it and that she actually thinks mine is worse (??). I tell her I forgive her, but I'm lying.

-we decide to get an apartment with a couple in a complex near the university. There's a shuttle that drives to the school, and I drive myself to night classes. Friend can't drive, doesnt have her license. She's 22. I take her everywhere else she needs to go as long as she asks.

-its okay at first. Made some friends, but they're her friends too. My depression is somehow worse. She doesn't really know. I stopped talking about my issues after the summer. Her complaints are worse because she's unable to find a job.

-our relationship turns into one where she brings me food at work (part time at uni) and barely speaks to me for days besides that. She randomly becomes very friendly at times and I soak it up like a fucking sponge, until we stop again. Goes back to one word replies.

-my new friend I met thru a classmate looks at her the wrong way and she tells them they triggered her ptsd at the fucking dennys dining room table. We're all uncomfortable. I tell her that was fucked up on Halloween night and she cries in my car. She says she's spiraling because she can't accept when she does something wrong. So she's at least a little bit aware. We go watch rocky horror at midnight.

-I go home for Christmas. I have a huge falling out with my dad. I start having what I call "grief episodes" where I mourn nothing for days at a time. I don't tell her. I visit her for her birthday and hang out a few times.

-one night, me and her go to meet up with some ppl from out of town. It's raining heavily on our way back and she has the map. I run right up on a median, where the road split. I couldn't see anything and already have bad anxiety around driving, she is aware. She didn't have the map up. She was texting when it happened. I stop letting her navigate.

(She did ask me if I was alright the day after. I tell her no, but there's nothing she can do about it, so "its whatever". I don't want her support anymore, but im still angry i never had it. I want to leave her, but I don't want to be alone. A standstill.)

-i get a good psych appt. Before driving us both back for the next semester. First few weeks are fine. Friend gets a job waiting tables at a new spot a mile down the road from our apartment. I drive her to and from every chance I get. She pays for gas every other refill.

-i tell her she could walk to work during the day, since theres sidewalks all the way there. She won't. She gets rides from coworkers when I'm not available, and complains about the ride when she sees me next.

-i ask if she's still saving for a car. She's been giving me gas money, and occasionally covering the 10 pm "dinner" we have after her late shifts, since the job started, so I'm not pushy about it. She says no, and that her dad's getting her an electric bike instead. I know I will be giving her rides until we graduate, unless I just stop answering texts. She continues to give me little to no notice before she needs rides despite me asking for it.

-she complains about walking, biking, and the job itself. She brags about how she's androgynous when I try to bring up gender dysphoria. She goes on rants about my own parents even though I haven't talked about them in months. At this point, I'm very short with her most of the time. I don't like getting to comfortable.

-I start new meds and start having bad nightmares again. I still pick her up on nights, but I tell her I can't go get food every evening because I have to fix my sleep schedule. She says "that's fine." She tells me I should try a new medication. I've tried at least 6 in the past year, but she didn't remember. She says "I think it's depression."

-I start going to group therapy for depressed/anxious college kids. I connect to them more than I ever have to friend. She's going too, a different session than mine. "Time management" or something. I don't ask about it. She doesn't ask about mine.

-she sent me a text saying "did you eat" last Sunday after she gets home from a morning-afternoon shift. I replied "why are you asking me that." I Hadn't. She knows I struggle with food, but she's never asked that, so I was taken aback. Almost offended that she'd try to care, and then-

"cause if you don't actually need food rn i'm not gonna ask you to drive somewhere for me only"

-i take us to dennys to eat again, and think about the Halloween before. I'm not sure if anything has changed.

- sometimes we laugh and it's like we're back before, when I didn't know she was this way. So selfish and focused on being liked. She's shown me how fake she really is over these years, and I'm desperate to have a real friend. I don't trust a word she says. I'm really reluctant to trust any of my friends and acquaintances anymore when they say they care. I worry they just want to seem good, but they don't actually care about me. She's said that to me before. "I care the most about seeming like a good friend to people."

-im dreading summer again, but I'm not letting myself run to her like I did last time. No fuckin way.

I don't say this for sympathy, and I don't really consider it a full on vent (it's more coherent, I hope). I don't want pity, even tho this post is a total fuckin bummer. It's more for me to remember how this was. And how a hard time showed who I could and couldn't rely on.

To the person who reblogged this, I really hope you got some better friends. If you're still around that person, do not base your whole being on them. Don't let yourself revolve around them. They are not a baby, or made of glass. If you can separate, do it. Please try to build up a real support system if you don't have one.

And that goes to whoever else is reading this. Fr, if you relate to my ass you prob do need to seek our a professional, but also.

This is a genuine fucking cautionary tale. If you have friends that seem legit, please hold onto them. Tell them what's going on. Make sacrifices for them, stay up at night when they're sad even if it's gonna make you tired the next day, tell them you love them even if it feels weird, go get them if they have car trouble, give them hugs as often as you can. If they can't do the same, don't wait. Don't let them talk you into second chances.

And if you have any advice on how to change- be more friendly, more open, less bitter, and able to build real supportive friendships and relationships- drop the recipe pls 🙏 I got a lot of work to do

This isn't miraculous related, just a vent. Using this site like reddit cause reddit sucks.

So like. Hear me out here.

I've had some shit friends before. Like, the gaslight, gatekeep, getawayfromme kind. And I ended that relationship, and the friend I have an issue with now is WORLDS better than the toxic ones I've had in the past. So trust me when I say I know this could be worse.

However,

Every time I talk to this friend I just get SO pissed off. She has PTSD, as well as OCD, and she just got taken off of some medication a few weeks ago, which has made things really hard for her. And I've been trying to be patient and be there for her. But I'm about to be at my mf limit y'all.

So the main issue is the complaints. Usually, I dont mind complaining, I'm pretty pessimistic myself so I do understand. It's hard not to. But god, every conversation we have is about how horrible her life is. Any time we talk, it always wraps back around to how "her brain hates her" and she can't catch a break. It's exhausting.

It's pretty clear that shes not lying, though. Something really is wrong. She has been missing class cause she has trouble making herself get out of bed, and her grades are steadily dropping. I know she doesn't want that and really beats herself up about it. And I have empathy for her, because I really do understand. I'm diagnosed with depression myself, and man, it takes me a LONG time to get myself ready in the mornings for that very reason. I take a lot of steps to make sure I have no other choice but to get out of bed. I even tried to share some of those strategies with her, like setting your alarm or phone far away from where you sleep so you have to at least get up to turn it off. Of course, she provided an excuse to why she cannot do that.

Now, more recently its gotten worse. I can't tell if I'm fed up or if she's gone downhill, or both. To preface, we spend a LOT of time with each other. We're both in college, and we're basically each others only friends. We knew each other in high school, so this isnt a new friendship. I could go on for another essay length post ab how I wish I would've forced myself to make friends at the beginning of the year instead of relying on her, but that's not what this is about.

So, she has OCD. She also has a lot of health issues, like allergies and asthma and all that. Pre-serum steve rogers comes to mind, except not that severe, of course. So, with these things combined, she's become a bit of a hypochondriac. Any time she has a cold, it's basically the end of the world. She'll convince herself she has a fever even if she hasn't taken her temperature, and hole herself up inside her room saying she's too sick to walk. Of course, when it all comes down to it, she usually doesn't have anything specific wrong with her, just a bad cold. Or maybe nothing at all. Now, I should preface that with this pandemic, I am certainly not saying she shouldn't be cautious. However, at this point, she has been tested and she is indeed negative for covid. She didn't even have a fever. And yet, I am still eating lunch alone, like I have been for days. I'm still receiving texts about how miserable she is for having to do her laundry or attend class in her state. I'm not her, so I can't say that this sickness is being blown out of proportion or not, but man is it exhausting anyway.

This situation where she leaves me to fend for myself for days, complaining the whole time, only to come back and have me by her side to keep her company, has become a trend. It's hard to let her wallow in her dorm alone like I do, because I'm usually so sick of sitting with my own thoughts that I take any opportunity to have some human interaction. If she's done self-isolating, I'm there. Even if I leave her company feeling worse than before. This is a weird issue to deal with as an introvert, so I'm navigating is as well as I can.

The last issue I have is the one I'm the most unsure about. This is because, as much as I've been complaining about her, she is actually a good friend to me most of the time. She is one of the only people that has ever let me talk to her about my problems, and recognized them as real problems instead of dramatics. For a while, I thought our relationship was strong, considering how many times we had talked about our respective traumas to each other. I truly can't thank her enough for letting me talk through some hard times over message with her.

But it's been a lot different lately. When I talk about my issues, it always circles back to hers. Her past is horrible, and the reason for her ptsd, so I completely support her talking about it openly instead of internalizing it. But man, she talks about it a LOT. I think its partly my fault, as I have trouble controlling my tone when talking about my mental health, past, etc. Its hard for me to be vulnerable like that, so I usually have a sort of neutral, emotionless tone. Even leaning towards the lighthearted side sometimes. Because of this, I assume she thinks its fine to talk about her problems too, because I dont sound upset. But when she brings up her issues, it does usually end up with her being sad or angry and me replying with a lot of "yeah, that's awful" and "man that really sucks, why would he do that to you." Its not that she DOESN'T listen to me, like I said, I do talk about my problems to her. It just feels disingenuous when the conversation always ends in us talking about her trauma, even if I started it by opening up about my own. And because I talk about mine some too, it feels wrong to tell her I'm not in a good place mentally to talk about hers. I'm really not in such a bad place that I cant handle her talking about her past, or even her present struggles. But it feels like mine are just- idk, overlooked? (Not to mention, any time I've confronted her about these things she apologizes profusely, but ends by telling me she's already internalized what I've said to her, and that she needs to talk to her therapist. Of course, she covers it with a lighthearted, self deprecating tone. But I still feel like shit. And somehow, she's the victim again.)

I've been struggling a lot lately, with a lot of similar issues (depression especially, although I have mental illnesses that she doesn't share, and vice versa. I realize our situations are not the same.) And I've even told her, or tried to. I know that people deal with depression in all different forms, but it's hard not to feel a bit of resentment when she complains about not being able to get out of bed. Like, god, I know. I really, really do. I have to scare myself awake with my alarm and force myself out of bed to turn it off. I have to wake up such a long time before my class starts because I get stalled with every step I take. So much of my mornings are spent staring at the floor in a loop of thoughts about how badly I want to get back in my bed and pretend I don't exist. But, lo and behold, I get to class. I cant afford to miss. And I know skipping class isn't good, it feels awful, I know that guilt well. But still, listening to her complain about not going to class feels like listening to someone complain about not being able to run into fire because they're not fireproof. No one's fucking fireproof. But still, here I am, covered in burns every day. Listening to someone whine about how horrible it is to watch everything burn from their window.

No, I don't feel the guilt of not trying. But that doesn't mean it's easy. That doesn't mean I come out unscathed.

[ihaveabsolutelynoideas]

Alright let's just get one thing clear here-

Four is 100% right here. Wild absolutely needs to be stopped. By force, if necessary (and it looks like it will be necessary).

Twilight is hanging on by a thread. Last we saw him the guy was barely conscious, unable to even keep his eyes open. He's making death speeches that may or may not be because he's delirious. He's drifting in and out of consciousness. He has no strength to waste on anything but breathing.

He most certainly doesn't need Wild bursting in and stressing him out. Let's not forget; Twilight is Wild's emotional support wolf. He's there when the champion has nightmares and stays with him through his memories. He's been there for Wild all through Wild's known life. He feels responsible for Wild's emotional state, even stating that he wished he could do more.

You really think seeing Wild so distraught is going to be good for him? Because it won't. The only one who'll benefit is Wild, and even that is questionable at best.

Because Wild is living in denial. He's insisting that no one can die, refusing to even hear Four name it as a possibility. He's volatile to the point of manhandling Four out of the way and shouting at anyone who doesn't give him the answers he wants to hear. Can you imagine the damage he could do just by being in the room? Yelling at Twilight to get up, yelling at Hyrule to heal him, yelling at Time for getting in the way?

Any extra stress could tip the scales when Twilight's on the razor's edge.

Four sees the writing on the wall.

"I can't let you go through like this"

Wild is in no state to be around someone so weak. If he were calmer then there might be an argument here but as it is Wild is just too wound up.

And what Wild wants right now is, frankly, selfish. He isn't listening to Four and choosing the best course of action for Twilight; he's thinking about himself. He's worried for Twilight, sure, but it's a selfish worry. Instead of wondering "what can I do to maximize the chance Twilight survives" he's instead thinking "I need to see him no matter what". No matter who he has to abandon, walk away from or fight through. Even though he's told, in no uncertain terms, that it wouldn't be helpful unless he knew a way to help Twilight heal (and he's given no such indication).

He is straight up told that Twilight "doesn't need this right now" but still insists on seeing him anyway.

Because he wants what he always wants from Twilight: comfort. He wants to be told that it's all going to be fine and the longer he's denied the crutch he's been counting on the more hot headed he gets. Because he's freaking out, in a full blown PTSD meltdown and of course he's searching for support in the once person he’s always counted on.

Which is understandable, but not excusable. Trauma explains shitty behavior but it doesn't vindicate it; You can't endanger other people just because you're triggered - it doesn't work like that.

And let's not forget he's not the only one suffering right now. He might have the strongest bond with Twilight but he doesn't have the only one. Every Link is Twilight's friend. Each and everyone of them would miss him if he were gone. Wild does not hold the monopoly on grief and it's not fair to forgive Wild's actions while damning everyone else.

Four himself is pretty close to Twilight and he had enough sense to tell Twilight not to worry about them. If Four can look past his own wants for Twilight's sake then why is it too much to ask Wild to do it too?

So I'm not hoping Four kicks his ass because I want Wild to be hurt, okay? I want Four to kick his ass so that he's forced to confront his own selfishness. Because no matter how sad or distraught Wild is it does not matter more than Twilight's life. Even if seeing Twilight will help Wild a lot and only hurt Twi a little, that little is still much more important in this scenario.

Because feelings can be fixed later. Death is permanent.

(To be very clear I'm happy Wild is being selfish here from a narrative standpoint. I love my characters flawed and I think it's good for Wild in the long run. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a character making a bad choice in the heat of the moment. Even on my personal favorites I welcome character flaws because overcoming those flaws make for stronger characters. I just typed this up because I don't like that some people are acting like Wild is a victim here when he is very clearly the aggressor. Because that's not a bad thing to be! It just means there's character development in the works!)

[harrystyleseditsx]

If you need me

SUMMARY: A one shot of where y/n experiences something that reminds her of her traumatic past and Harry’s 5000 miles away

based on the song If you need by julia micheals

WARNING: Angst with fluff :) 

pairing: Harry Styles x uni y/n 

wordcount: 2.3k

A/N: Welcome to my first fic, I needed to write something to get in the flow to write my 2000 word story so here it is :)) ily guys <3 (also would you prefer y/n or an oc, please let me know!!)

Y/N was very happy about how her morning had been going.

She had woken up early, worked out and made her favorite breakfast. She had also gotten herself some flowers to celebrate the fact that she had submitted her 10 page essay early. The only thing that would make her morning better would be face timing harry but she knew it was 1 pm here meaning it would be 9 pm in London where Harry was and he had a concert to perform. She threw on one of Harry’s treat people with kindness hoodies over her sundress as she headed to the library that would often get chilly or she was just always cold as harry often teased her. She smiled as she remembered harry telling she would overheat if she continued to wear zip ups and pile blankets on herself even during summers. 

She had by now almost reached the library when she suddenly bumped into someone causing the other person to drop some of their stuff. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I should have paid more attention-” it felt as if the words were stuck in her throat as she glanced at who she bumped into. 

“Oh hi Y/N” Asher taunted, her ex. She hadn’t seen him since the break up when he told her that he needed space and took off to France only to send her the infamous break up text. And, here he was 6 months later, looking the every bit same. She felt a feeling of anxiety creeping up on her as she started playing with her fingers trying to stop when she saw Asher’s eyes drop to her hands. 

“Are you nervous y/n? Always played with your fingers when you were” he said with a hint of smugness, as he reached his hand forward trying to grasp hers. She immediately pulled back, crossing them against her chest as she took a deep breath. 

“What are you doing here Asher? Aren’t you supposed to be in France?” she snapped at him, her nervousness quickly turning into anger. Asher raised an eyebrow as if surprised at her response. 

“Been keeping tabs on me?” he smirked. “Well forgive me if I wanted to know where my boyfriend, sorry, ex-boyfriend ran off too on our 1 year anniversary” she scoffed.

“Finally grew a backbone y/n?” he drawled looking her up and down. Y/N had never felt the urge to pull someone’s eyeballs out more than she did now. She found herself thinking what she ever saw in this piece of shit. She snapped back to reality as she heard him droning about something.

“..you need me, so I’ll take you back-” he was in interrupted as y/n threw her head back laughing. When she looked at him again, he had an annoyed look on his face. “I need you? Well, I’d like to inform you that you’re wrong again. I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone. I managed myself when you left and I’m doing so now too. So, you can see yourself out of my life again” she reiterated. Asher now looked furious, he lunged forward and grabbed her by her wrists as she tried to free herself from his grip.

“Is all this attitude because of her famous singer boyfriend? Yes, I know all about him. Is he telling you that you’re beautiful? or that you’re important? because news flash, you’re not y/n. You’re worthless, stupid, ugly and you’ll be nothing without me. You’re a whore” he growled. Y/N felt herself flinch as she heard his words before she composed herself and kicked him in the balls. His grip on her wrists loosened giving her the perfect opportunity to attack. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and jerked it forward, raising her knee and smashed his face against it and then shoved him backwards. She heard Asher yelp in pain as blood gushed out of his. One of his hands was on his dick while other on his nose. She felt a sense of pride and satisfaction rush through her as she looked at him. 

"You bitch, you broke my nose. You'll pay for this" Asher yelled at her. She decided it was best to kick him one more time for good measure and she did, smiling as he groaned in pain. "No, you listen to me. If you ever come near me again or try to hurt me I will fuck up your life and I'll get my famous singer boyfriend to help too" y/n taunted as she turned out to head back to her apartment, she had never been more glad to have her apartment be a 5 minute walk from campus. The whole incident had taken a huge toll on her.

She locked her room as soon as she entered it, leaning against the door as she slowly sank to the floor. She took a deep breath before the sobs broke out. Her entire body was shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself trying to feel as if she wasn't alone in the world. Y/N picked up her phone to send a text to harry but she try made her feel even more shitty. What if he realized she wasn't worth it, what if he had enough of her breakdowns. She pressed her nails into her palm, hitting herself to try to stop herself from feeling too much. She had come so far and now all it took was one interaction for everything to come crumbling down.

//

She didn't know how long she had been sitting like that but her phone rang, she looked at the clock to see it flashing 5 pm. Realizing that it must be harry on the phone, she got up and rushed to the bathroom, quickly washing her face, she laid down on the bed so he could only see half of her face and then accepted his call.

Harry appeared on the screen all smiley and sweaty. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him. All she wanted to do was hug him. "Finally picked up, huh? I thought y'were gonna leave me hangin' lovie" he teased her. "I'm sorry, my phone was on silent" she said softly.

Harry realised the change in her demeanor, his smile turning into a frown. "Y'alright honey? Not even showin' me y'pretty face" he said to her. She tried to smile as she moved the camera a bit so he could see more of her face. "I'm just tired H" she whispered. Harry had been moving around, probably trying to find a quieter area. He shut the door behind him as he entered what looked like his dressing room.

"Have y'been cryin' y/n?" he questioned as he saw her red nose and faint traces of year marks on her cheeks. y/n knew there was no point in lying because it was pretty obvious. "Yeah, I didn't do very well in one of the assignments my economics professor had assigned but I'm fine now" she told him adding a smile in the end to make it more believable and maybe Harry would have believed her had he not caught a glimpse of the nasty bruise on wrist as the sleeve of her (his) hoodie slipped down when she was pulled the hood up. Harry was furious and the visible anger on his face made y/n want to curl up.

"What the fuck is that y/n?" he questioned furiously. "What are you talking about? "y/n replied looking genuinely confused. "The fucking bruise on your wrist” harry snapped, by now he had lost all his patience. No one gets to hurt his lovie. 

Y/N was at a loss, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want him to worry about her but she couldn’t come up with anything to say. “Asher came back, he cornered me and when I tried to go, he grabbed my wrists” she mumbled, playing with the hem of his sweatshirt. She dare not glance his way, afraid of his reaction. After a minute of silence, Y/N glanced at her phone only to find the screen to be blank. Had he hung up on her? She stared at the blank screen of her phone in disbelief. She felt as if she was having an out of body experience. Opening her gallery, she started scrolling through the numerous photos and videos of her and harry. It was at this time that she was grateful with her obsession of taking pictures and photos. A few tears escaped her eyes as she realized how much she missed him and how he probably didn’t want to talk to her ever. Was he going to break up with her? Y/N’s heart clenched at that thought, she put on harry’s playlist on her spotify and laid there. 

//

She must have fallen asleep because she woke up to the sound of pots clanging. Her heart sped up, no one besides her and harry had the key to her apartment and harry wouldn’t- 

She threw the blanket covering her aside (which had not been there before) and rushed to the kitchen. And sure enough there he was, her boyfriend, with his back facing her. Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes, he came here for her. Harry  turned around to see her standing in the entryway of the kitchen, crying. He reached her in three quick strides, pulling her in a hug. She tightly wrapped her arms around him, fearing he might disappear. Harry pulled back after a few minutes, cupping her face in his hands he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. 

“Gonna properly tell m’what happened now bubs?” he urged. Unable to say anything at that moment Y/N just nodded. Grabbing her hand, Harry led her to the sofa, grabbing her by the waist and seating her on his lap. He patiently waited her to start talking. For a while Y/n just played with his hair, then she took a deep breath and told him everything that happened. She could feel Harry’s grip tightening on her hips, not to the extent that it was painful, when she told him what Asher had said to her. 

“M’gonna fuckin’ kill him” Harry cursed when she had finished. “I already did some damage” Y/N told him, smirking as she remembered Asher’s face. Harry looked at her questioningly, “I might have kicked him in the balls and broken his nose and added another kick for good measure” she admitted. Harry grinned, “that’s m’girl” he said proudly, pulling her in for a kiss. They sat like that for a while with Harry telling her about tour and she filled him in with other things that she had forgotten when they had their facetime sessions.

Y/N told him that she wanted to report Asher, in case he ever tried to pull shit like this again. Harry not only told her but also showed her how proud he was of her, how brave she’d been and how much he loved her in multiple ways. 

//

The next day they headed to the dean’s office, where Y/N saw two officers sitting outside. Luckily there were several camera’s in the hallway where Asher had cornered Y/N, so by noon, with all the available proof, she’d gotten a restraining order against Asher. If her were to come within a distance of 6ft with her, he’d serve jail time. As they left the dean’s office, Y/N saw Asher standing , she could feel harry tensing up, so when Asher looked Y/N up and down and smirked, Harry lunged forward punching him in his already swollen nose. Asher yelped in pain, he tried to fight Harry back but by now the officers had restrained him, taking him away. 

Back at the apartment, Y/N tended to Harry’s bruised knuckles as she felt a hollowness knowing he’d be leaving soon. By the look on her face, Harry knew what she was thinking about, he took the cotton swab from her hands, placing it on the table before he kissed her. 

“I’ll be back soon, it’s only a matter of two months now and by then you’ll  graduate and I’ll be done with tour and we can  have everyday to ourselves” harry told her, wiggling his eyebrows. She lightly smacked his chest, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “I know, It’s just that sometimes I miss you” she commented. “Only sometimes?” Harry pretended to be offended, “Well a bit more than sometimes” she retorted. “Just a bit more? I miss you so much, it hurts” he admitted. Her shoulders slumped a bit as she pulled him in a hug. “I love you Harry” she whispered and heard him softly whisper I love you too sweetheart. 

That evening Y/n drove him to the airport, they knew they couldn’t outside for long so Harry pulled her in a kiss before he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Promise me you’ll tell me anything that happens, I don’t care if it’s just a paper cut or not. Just don’t hide things from me, If when you need me I'll be there" he blurted. “I promise” she said firmly, showing him she was serious. She didn’t want him to worry but he’d eventually know something was up and it was better to sort things out. He kissed her again before he went in the airport. She stood there until he was no longer in her sight before she sat in her car and started driving off. 

Her phone chimed, picking it up she saw that Harry had sent her a image. It was a very poorly drawn graphic of a guy lying on the floor with a crooked nose and blood around him that she assumed was Asher and a girl stood over him wearing a superhero cape. He had written, ‘my hero’. She smiled fondly before sending him a picture of her reaction as she increased the volume of her radio and driving off. Soon. 

. 

This is my first time writing a harry fic/blurb. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, I’ve turned on the asks (I didn’t know they were off) so you can send in your requests!! Thank you :))

[magickastiel]

Somewhere Off in the Dark (Dean/Cas) 7.3k

It’s easier to be with Cas in the dark.

Dean hasn’t got to see those eyes at full brightness, boring into his soul. Instead he can just talk and not worry about the embarrassment scalding his face or the discomfort twisting his spine.

It’s dangerous being with Cas in the dark.

Gift for @jackttwist for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! ✨

mild warning for a scene during early s13 so dean is very self-destructive and doesn't care about his own life. It's along the same times as the show but if you're triggered by that, skip from: 'Dean is sick' and pick up again at: "The Empty?" Dean whispers, feeling cold' for the cute stuff!

a03 or keep reading 💖

_

Dean will never get used to waking up and seeing eyes peering back at him.

He starts awake, half-reaching for the gun tucked under his pillow before he can pull himself back. He glares and throws the blanket off his lap, immediately regretting it when the cool night air hits his legs.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel says, voice dry and face impassive. He watches without shame as Dean clambers to his feet, eyes skimming over his legs, his rucked up t-shirt, the scowl on his face.

A chill shoots up Dean’s back and, not for the first time, he wonders how many pairs of eyes Castiel really has. He walks from the couch to Bobby’s kitchen for something to do with his overly observed body.

“I’ll shoot you one day.” He says over his shoulder. “That’ll show you.”

“What will that show me?”

Dean wants to be annoyed but instead he snorts with laughter. Castiel seems to have this affect on him.

“Nothin’. Forget it.” His eyes itch with fatigue and he rubs them with the back of his hand. “You want coffee?”

“I have no need for - ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Dean turns to lean his back against the counter and almost jumps again when he sees that Castiel has silently followed him to the kitchen. He can count the number of worn tiles between his bare feet and Castiel’s shoes. He has to swallow before he speaks. “Didn’t ask if you needed it. You want some?”

The angel’s eyes travel over him again and Dean feels like an ant under the hot glare of a magnifying glass on a sticky summer’s day.

“Yes.” He says eventually.

“Right.” Coffee.

He potters about, feeling eyes on him wherever he goes. He doesn’t let his hand shake.

By the time they’re sat back on the couch with two half-empty mugs, Dean’s body has loosened as he becomes accustom to the silent scrutiny. There’s no looming threat and no harsh judgement because Castiel is as he always is – curious. Every movement is apparently fascinating to him, every sentence Dean says is worth contemplation and every sip of coffee is a new experience to mull over. Again, Dean is surprised how little it annoys him.

“You remember the first time you woke me up here?” He says after a long pause. “You threatened to throw me back into Hell. Real nice of you.”

In the dark, Dean has to rely on Castiel’s voice to judge his expression. “Yes.” The word sounds solemn, like he’s disappointed that Dean remembers it. “I did say that.”

Dean takes the last glug of coffee to think. There’s an obvious question that’s been lingering between them for the last ten minutes.

“Why did you come here tonight?” He asks and doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be.

Even though he can’t see him properly, he’s sure Castiel is staring straight at him even as he ponders his answer. It’s another reminder of how alien he is. He doesn’t have that need to look away, to hide his face as his mind races to find the right way to say the right thing. Dean envies him that.

“I wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise for what?”

When he speaks again, his tone is unnervingly soft. “Your friends.”

Ellen. Jo.

Dean’s heart clenches and he feels the urge to move, unable to sit still in his grief. His knee knocks against Castiel’s solid thigh but the angel stays perfectly still.

“I should have been with them.” Castiel continues his voice low and smooth. If it wasn’t for the subject matter, Dean might think he was being read to sleep like a troubled child. “I should have protected them.”

“Not your fault.” He mumbles and means it. It never occurred to him to blame Castiel. He’s been too busy blaming himself to consider anyone else’s actions.

“I arrived with them and I should have stayed with them. I let them down. I – I let...”

Castiel is hesitating. This is new behaviour for him and it’s dangerously human.

“I...let you down.”

Dean feels like he’s been doused with cold water. He doesn’t blame Castiel for not wanting to say that. It’s so ridiculously untrue and so goddamn weird to say that he let Dean down specifically. It’s too much focus on him, on them.

“You didn’t let us down, man.”

“You are being kind.” Castiel says in neither admonishment nor gratefulness. He just states it like it’s a sure fact. “Thank you. But I shall endeavour to make it up to you.”

“Oh.” Dean says feeling dumb and strangely warm. “Right. But like I said, nothing to make up for.”

“You are not sleeping.”

He almost gets whiplash at the sudden change in conversation. “Uh well, no, not right now. You did wake me up.”

“Allow me to clarify: you do not sleep enough.” The still air is disturbed by the rustle of his trenchcoat and the sharp clack of the ceramic mug being placed on the table.

“Kind of a lot going on, dude.” Dean says, trying to protest as Castiel pulls his mug from his hands and places that on the table too. “Uhhh, what are you doing?”

“Lie back down.”

Dean does as he’s told but frowns too. He tells himself it’s a good compromise. “You gonna stare at me until I fall asleep or something?”

“I could but I believe that will be unnecessary.” He stands and looms over the couch. He looks intimidating from down here – tall as a skyscraper and dark as a void. Dean clutches at the blanket for something tangible to hold on to. “Your body still hasn’t recovered from the physical and emotional trauma of the last week. And when you sleep you have nightmares thus reliving the pain. You must rest completely to correct this and regain your full strength.”

Dean snorts. “Oh, yeah? So what you gonna do – zap me to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Wait – ”

Two fingertips brush his forehead and he sleeps.

_

Dean can’t stop looking.

Even as Benny regales them with some batshit story, even as he eats his handful of berries, even as he wanders the perimeter of their little camp.

Cas is here.

Like, actually here.

He hadn’t let himself lose hope but it had been slipping. Just around the corner, he’d think. One more fight and he’ll be there. On and on.

And then there he was, alive and washing his face like he’d just woken up after a bad night’s sleep at a motel.

Dean’s eyes flit over to him again. He isn’t used to it yet. They only found him a few hours ago. Man’s gotta bask in having his best friend back.

“Dean? You hear me?”

He sighs and turns back to Benny who, to his credit, doesn’t even look annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Sleeping, shifts, food.”

He snorts. “Got the gist, at least.”

“I’ll take the first shift. Gotta...” He glances over his shoulder at Cas again. He isn’t quite sure what he’s got to do, but he knows it involves Cas.

“Like that, huh?” Benny says, a slight smirk on his face.

“What do you mean?” He mutters, grabbing a stick and poking the meagre fire for something else to focus on.

“Nothin’, nothin’.” He waves a hand, but the smirk hasn’t left his face. “Just startin’ to feel like a third wheel, is all.”

Dean’s face heats unpleasantly. He knows it’s not like that but he can’t quite bring himself to argue about it. Instead he stares into the fire as Benny wanders off to rest. He feels horribly cracked open. He’s gotten used to his hardened shell – Purgatory took all the resilience he had and coated him in it. But the first sight of Cas had split him apart and now his usual racing thoughts have come rushing back with the force of a ten tonne truck. He almost wishes he could go back to how he was yesterday, pure focus and drive.

Now he feels small next to the fire, between a vampire and an angel.

He’s just one slightly shitty human lost in Purgatory.

“Dean?”

Cas joins him suddenly, with that eerie angelic stealth. Dean only just manages to stop himself from jumping like a kid. Cas sits on his left, watching him intently.

Everything is kind of colourless in Purgatory. It drove Dean insane for the first few days; everything seemed slightly off and unreal. Then he got used to it – the lacklustre trees, the blank water, even the fire looked kind of grey.

Cas’ eyes are still very blue.

It’s the first real colour he’s seen in months.

“Dean?” He says again, sounding slightly alarmed. “Are you alright?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah. Just...weird to see you, I guess.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks. “I...I suppose it is strange to see you too. I have seen you from a distance a few times. If several leviathans caught me at once, it would take me a while to kill all of them. Each time, I was very aware of how you were likely closing in on my location. Then I would catch a glimpse of you through the trees and that was when I knew I needed to get ahead again.”

“You what?!” Dean hisses, only keeping his voice down for Benny’s sake. “You mean you’ve been in spitting distance before and you didn’t say anything?! You could have...” He thinks about the sleepless nights, the desperation to find him alive. “I was afraid you were dead.”

“I am sorry, Dean.” Cas squints and tilts his head a little. Dean feels his anger dissipate. “I wanted nothing more than to join you. Together, I am sure we can conquer almost anything.” Right. That’s a total normal thing to say to someone. “But I was the one who released the leviathans. It was my responsibility to deal with them. If they got to you I would never be able to forgive myself.” His gaze drops to the fire. “I will never be able to forgive myself.”

“Don’t.” Frustration pushes at Dean’s skull, making his eyes water. “Yeah, ok. You did something pretty dumb. But you did it because you were trying to save the world. I should have...if I hadn’t been so damn caught up with other stuff. If I had just been there more - ”

“Dean, you cannot blame yourself.” Cas sounds genuinely horrified at the thought. “It was my decision and the consequences are mine to bear. All I can hope is that you can find a way to forgive me. And Sam - ”

“Sam’s good now.” Dean says quickly, half to reassure himself. “You screwed him over, not gonna lie. But at least you fixed it.”

Neither of them speaks for a while. Cas seems intent on watching the fire while Dean’s shell shatters a little more. Had he really had forgiven Cas just like that? He thought of what John Winchester would say about that. To say Cas had ‘screwed Sam over’ was a bit of an understatement. He had totally destroyed his mind. And here Dean was, casually forgiving him like it was no big thing.

It isn’t just words either. Dean really doesn’t feel any animosity towards the angel at all. Look out for Sammy. That had been drummed into him since he was four years old, when he carried his baby brother from their burning home. He still lives by it too. So it’s unnerving to forgive someone who hurt Sam. He’d been angry at first, sure. Upset, if he was being honest. He’d been hit with the double whammy of worrying about Sam and being betrayed by the only real friend he’d ever had. The only one that sticks around.

Well, that isn’t quite true. Cas always leaves but he always comes back too.

Now Dean just feels happy. And tired. He’s pretty tired too.

“You should sleep.” Cas says, softly. “I can watch over you.”

His knee jerk reaction is to tell the angel that’s weird. In any other situation it is weird. But here, he really does need someone looking out for him.

“’Angels are watching over you.’” He says, thinking of soft blonde hair and a warm smile. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “That’s what my mom used to tell me every night when she put me to bed. Guess that’s true tonight, huh?”

“I suspect she did not imagine that to come true in Purgatory while you are travelling with an angel and vampire, but the sentiment is lovely nonetheless.”

Dean can’t stop himself from grinning as he settles down, wedging his jacket under his head like Benny did.

“Do we have to travel with the vampire?” Cas grumbles beside him, sounding wonderfully like himself.

Dean raises his eyebrows against his makeshift pillow. “What, you don’t like Benny?”

“I don’t like the way he acts.” His eyes narrow, glaring at the sleeping figure the other side of the fire. “He looks at you like he wants to...consume you.”

Dean laughs and, for a moment, the clearing rings with it. “Dude trust me: Benny ain’t gonna eat me. He’s got plenty of food around.”

But Cas still looks unsure. “That’s not...” He sighs. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” He gives Dean one of those rare, small smiles as he looks down at him. “Sleep.”

Dean does as he’s told for once, letting his aching limbs stretch out next to the warmth of the fire and under his best friend’s watchful gaze.

But after a few moments, he can’t resist another look, even as his body succumbs.

“You can sleep, Dean.” Cas says, almost chastising. “I’ll watch over you.”

“Ain’t that. Just...” His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his heart feels too heavy for his chest. “Just checkin’ you’re still there, is all.”

As he falls asleep, he hears his voice one more time.

“I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”

_

When Dean asks Cas where he can drop him, the ex-angel avoids his eyes and says something about being ‘between places’.

Yeah, Dean’s the worst friend in the world.

He drives them to a motel because that’s the least he can do.

He mentally berates himself on the drive there while Cas is quiet in the passenger seat. This really is the least he can do. He should be driving Cas home to the Bunker, buying him dinner on the way back. He should be apologising for throwing him out. But if he starts apologising that means he’s got to start explainingand that’s something he really can’t do. Not yet.

So he drives his awesome best friend to a shitty motel and books them a shitty twin room and orders a shitty pizza.

Once they’ve eaten in relative silence, Cas perches on the edge of one of the beds staring wide-eyed and blank faced at the television. Unfortunately, it’s not Dr. Sexy. Just some grim drama about murders and family betrayals. Like they don’t have enough of that to deal with already.

He looks small and Dean has the sudden urge to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Dude,” He says, busying his restless hands with clearing up the greasy napkins and tossing them into the bin. “Don’t sit that close to the TV. You’ll get square eyes.”

For what seems like the first time in an hour, Cas blinks. “Is that possible?”

Dean chuckles and settles back on his bed, kicking off his boots with a groan. “Nah, just somethin’ parents tell their kids. Dad used to say it to me all the time.” His smile slips as John Winchester’s dark eyes narrow in his mind. “Used to watch so much Scooby Doo it drove him mad. ‘Turn that TV off and do something useful! Ain’t got no use for a son with square eyes!’” He fidgets on the bed, fighting the urge to pull a blanket over himself.

“Oh.” Cas half turns away from the TV. “That seems unnecessarily harsh.”

Dean shrugs. “Just watched it when he was gone.” Had plenty of time.

“I assume you had plenty of time to watch it then.”

Huh.

Dean’s stunned into silence long enough for Cas to look over. Something on his face makes Cas look guilty.

“I’m sorry. It isn’t my place to comment on your father.”

“No.” Dean says but isn’t sure if he means it.

Cas stands, flicking off the TV and sitting against the pillows of his own bed. The quiet makes Dean realise that he’s alone with Cas in a motel room. He isn’t sure why it sets his teeth on edge – it shouldn’t be any different from sharing with Sam. So why does he feel a bit too hot under his shirt?

“Family is a complicated thing.” Cas continues, oblivious to Dean’s discomfort.

“Y-yeah.” The word sticks in his throat. “You miss ‘em? The other angels?”

In the soft lamplight, Cas’ profile looks striking as he thinks. “Yes and no. I miss the simplicity of being with them.”

“Simplicity? Can’t imagine Heaven ever being simple.”

“Oh, it’s not, not really. But I knew my place and I knew what I required to do. And I was known. Understood.”

“You think I don’t get you?” Dean asks before he can stop himself.

Cas leans back further, turning slightly to rest his head on the pillow. His eyes look almost velvet in the soft light. Dean finds himself turning a little too, cheek brushing the cotton pillowcase.

“I think you understand me more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“Oh.” Dean feels struck dumb and something inside his chest clunks. “That...that’s what friends are for, I guess.”

“Yes.” Cas smiles, gummy and a little crooked where he’s resting his head. “It is.”

Dean rolls onto his back, heart hammering as he stares at the ceiling. Cas’ eyes are still on him – he knows the feel of that gaze like a dangerous coastline knows the relentless glare of a lighthouse.

The silence drags and his fingers itch to switch the TV back on.

“Coulda got you your own room.” He mutters, almost to himself. Least I could do. “Give you some privacy.”

“No.” Cas says firmly. “This is...this is good. Thank you.” He sounds so earnestly grateful Dean almost cringes in shame. “I spend quite a lot of time alone. It’s good to have company.”

“Right, yeah. Of course.”

“But if you’d rather - ”

“Nah, it’s all good.” He says and is surprised that he means it. He’s counted the stains on the ceiling three times and his heart is slowing to its normal pace again.

“Dean?” Cas sounds a little slower now. “Tell me something?”

“Uh, sure. What?”

“Anything.”

“Like a story?” Dean frowns and looks over to see Cas’ eyes are already half-closed.

“Hmm.”

“Uhhh...” He flounders. He hasn’t done this since he was a kid, making up stories for Sammy to fall asleep to in the back of the Impala. “Ok. Once, this guy woke up. Let’s call him...Dan. He woke up and realised he was underground, being suffocated. So after he panicked a bit, he dug his way out and almost goddamn blinded himself ‘cos it was a sunny day, right? He walks to this old gas station and keeps thinking ‘how am I alive?’ ‘cos he’s pretty sure he was dead.”

He knows he isn’t telling it well but it doesn’t seem to matter because Cas hums again, sounding pleased this time. Dean feels his own body melting like hot wax into the bed as he watches Cas’ eyes close.

“Then he looks in the mirror and sees he’s got this mark on his shoulder. A handprint. So he’s like, ‘who the hell left that there?’”

Cas chuckles, mouth thick with sleep. Dean pulls a blanket over himself and wraps an arm around one of the pillows.

“Turns out, his best friend left it there. But here’s the thing: he ain’t met him yet.”

Dean smiles as Cas’ breathing gets even and heavy. He watches for a moment and squeezes the pillow tight against his chest before turning out the light.

He dreams of Hell but when he wakes, all he can remember are dark wings beating hard against fire.

_

Dean is sick.

He throws up until his body is shaking, until his throat is raw and his eyes are bloodshot.

He slumps down next to the toilet and takes in breaths he doesn’t really want. The cool title presses against his burning back and he closes eyes. Which is a horrific mistake.

A beam of light streaming from his mouth, from his eyes, from the hole in his chest -

His body jerks and his foot knocks the empty whiskey bottle with a jarring clatter. Yeah, that’s rule one, buddy. Don’t close your fucking eyes.

He stands on shaking legs, picks up the empty bottle and goes back to his room where he’s stashed another. Thankfully, he doesn’t pass Sam on the way. He can’t deal with the pity, he can’t deal with the logic and he can’t deal with his stupid, childish hope. Mom’s gone. Ain’t no sense in pretending otherwise. Gone just like –

Nope.

He opens his door and chucks the empty bottle down again, letting it roll off to some dark corner of his room. He scoops up the next one and cracks open the top, taking a deep swig. It hits him hard; neat alcohol on his turbulent stomach makes him gag but he perseveres. He’s exhausted but he can’t close his eyes.

So he’s aiming for blackout.

It can’t be too far away – he can’t remember when he last ate. He’s aching all over, boiling hot and he’s...

Sobbing.

“You...you son of a bitch...” He sways a little when he looks up at the dingy ceiling but he’s trying to talk beyond that. “Whydya hav’ ta...fuck!” He rushes over to the sink and throws up the whiskey he just swallowed. It burns even more on the way up.

Once he’s stopped retching, he tries to take another swig but his body won’t let him do it. He collapses onto the floor again, legs too weak to stand. The bottle clangs in the sink, probably spilling all of its contents down the drain. He makes a weak sound of protest but doesn’t move.

His eyes feel tight and dry against the salty wetness on his face. He wonders how far above him Heaven is. If he’s even there. Something tells him he isn’t. If he is, surely he would have found a way to get back.

Dean whispers his name, a private prayer of desperation. There’s still some dumb part of him that thinks he might just appear again, slightly dishevelled and annoyed at Dean for not looking after himself.

But he doesn’t.

The silence stretches and Dean contemplates hitting his head on the floor. If he does it hard enough, there’s a good chance it’ll knock him out for a while, maybe a few days if he’s lucky.

He tries to lift his head but it’s too heavy. A wave of panic rushes over him as he starts to feel paralyzed – trapped in his own body and smothered with grief.

“Cas?” He chokes, a fresh wave of tears rushing down his face. “You...you’re meant to come back. You always come back. You gotta...you gotta come back, man. Please. Please, I can’t - ”

I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to. Don’t make me.

With all his might, he rolls onto his side before he’s suffocated completely. His head spins as he turns, his stomach churns and his eyes roll back. When he finally passes out, he doesn’t see anything at all.

_

“The Empty?” Dean whispers, feeling cold.

“Yes.” Cas whispers back. He’s only whispering because Dean is. Dean feels completely normal about that and not giddy at all.

“What was it like?” He doesn’t want to know but has to ask all the same.

“Empty.” Cas says, deadpan.

“Oh ok, smartass – thanks for clearing that up!” Dean huffs good-naturedly and has to grip the railing until his knuckles turn white. He’s got so much happiness in him his body doesn’t know what to do with it. He feels energy thrumming through him and he has the sudden urge to start sprinting and laughing.

They’ve stopped at a motel on the drive back from Colorado to the Bunker. Sam is already asleep, hair all splayed out on his pillow like Sleeping Beauty. But Dean...well, Dean was dead for a couple of minutes today so he figures he’ll enjoy being alive for a bit longer. He leans on the rail overlooking the parking lot and lets the cool air fill his lungs.

He’s got company.

“How is Jack?” Cas asks, obviously expecting a better answer than the quick reassurance they’d given him earlier.

“He’s doing ok. I was...” Dean trails off, his good mood momentarily dipping into guilt. “I was kind of a dick to him at first - ”

“What a surprise.” Cas sighs, world-weary and affectionately irritated. Dean wants to make him sound like that every day.

“- but we’ve gotten better.” He knocks Cas’ shoulder with his. “I’ve gotten better.”

“Good.” Cas smiles at him and he has to grip the railing again.

Dean watches him stare up at the moon, the pearly light making him look as otherworldly as he is. Dean is reminded there are wings somewhere behind Cas. Broken, yes, but still there. It’s weirdly exciting that Cas isn’t human. A strange thrill shoots through him when he really thinks about it. He feels like one of those people who inadvertently tame some dangerous beast and have their photos taken with the thing sat on their couch with them. It’s that precious feeling that you’ve been chosen, that something that would normally kill you with a snap of jaws or a click of its fingers saw you and thought you were special. So it decided that it wanted you to live. That it wanted to spend time with you. That he wanted –

“Dean? You’re staring.” Cas turns back to him with a raised eyebrow and a slightly smug expression. “You usually tell me off for that.”

“Right.” Dean doesn’t stop looking. “It’s just...you’re back.You came back again.”

Cas’s expressions softens and he edges a little closer. Suddenly – wildly – Dean thinks if Cas kissed him now he’d be fine with it.

He doesn’t.

“It was suffocating.” He says instead. “The black emptiness was...all encompassing. Like no matter what I did or where I went, I would never escape the feeling of total despair. Of being painfully alone. It was like - ”

“Choking.” Dean says and swallows hard against his healing throat.

“Yes.” Cas’ fingers twitch on the railing and Dean thinks that if he moved his left pinkie, he could feel his skin. Cas’ hand drops before he can really contemplate doing it. “But I did escape.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s full of energy again, happiness buzzing around his body like a swarm of bumblebees. “You got out, man.”

“I was afraid that feeling would follow me. That I would still feel that fear no matter how far I ran.”

“And?”

“I don’t.” Cas turns to the moon again, bathed in pure light, eyes shining as bright as his grace. “I don’t feel scared at all.”

Dean blinks back the sting in his eyes and smiles. “Me neither.”

_

Dean pushes open the door with a sweaty palm.

Cas stands next to him, staring into the room with his lips slightly parted. Dean’s gaze lingers on them for moment before he drags his eyes away.

Just because Cas...said what he said, doesn’t mean he wants that. Maybe he didn’t really mean it. Or maybe he did mean it but like...friends. Best friends love each other. Of course they do. Sure, it did seemlike a momentous romantic confession made by a guy madly in love with his best friend before he sacrificed himself to save said best friend but maybe...maybe it wasn’t really like that.

“You did this for me?” Cas sounds almost tearful and Dean can’t look at him like that. It reminds too much of –

“Yeah.” Dean clears his throat. “Well, Sam helped too. Turns out he’s kinda nerdy about plants too. But I bought ‘em all and watered ‘em and...Jack got you that stuffed bee, by the way.”

Cas steps inside the room and Dean can finally look up from his feet. His eyes go straight to Cas’ broad back, casually dressed in one of Sam’s sweaters. The sleeves are too long but Cas says he likes it. He’s wearing a pair of joggers that Dean kept aside for him and a pair of socks with a hole in the toe.

“I love it.”

Dean’s heart literally skips a beat. Great, he loves it. Loves it in the way he loves –

“Wanted you to have something to come back to, you know? I know this was always kinda your room but there was nothing in here and I thought...after what you said before about the Empty...thought you’d want something good to come back to. Bright and full of life...or whatever, I dunno. Just thought you might like it.”

“It’s incredible.”

Dean thinks that’s over stating it. It’s not that good. Not nearly enough to repay his debts. Not anywhere near what Cas deserves. He deserves a real home, a huge garden, a fucking mansion with butlers and people who bow to him and call him ‘sir’. Instead Dean has given him his old room back. Sure, it’s got a few shelves up, a new rug, bedding that Jack picked out called ‘jungle dreams’, a load of plants and a tall lamp that gives everything a nice glow but it’s still the same room.

Dean has never felt more pathetic.

Castiel is an angel. Ok, barely an angel now (and whose fault it that?) but still a celestial being. He might get tired sometimes, he might get hungry and he might be able to get drunk but he’s still an angel.

He’s still better.

Better than this stupid room, better than this miserable Bunker. Better than Dean.

“Is this your blanket?” Cas asks suddenly, plucking the Scooby-Doo fleece blanket from the bed.

Oh, that. “Uh, yeah. Thought you might get cold now. Don’t want you to get numb toes or nothin’.”

“That’s...” Dean isn’t prepared for the open, raw joy on Cas’ face when he looks up. It almost sends him reeling backwards out of the door. “That’s very kind of you. You didn’t have to do all of this. It’s...”

Stupid. Stupid plants, stupid lamp, stupid goddamn blanket.

“It’s wonderful.”

“It’s stupid.” Dean blurts, feeling awkward and childish. “Shoulda done something more. Shoulda got you - ”

“You got me.” Cas says firmly. “You got me out, Dean. You and Sam and Jack...I will never be able to thank you enough. And then to come back to this room that you worked so hard on, that you filled with things you knew I would like...there is nothing better than that in the whole world. The whole of creation. To be known and to be wanted is the best thing there is.”

Fuck.

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. What can he say to that? What can he say that would ever compare to what Cas said? What he said before –

“Right. Ok. Great. That’s...good. I’ll just...” He gestures over his shoulder to the door. Being in here with Cas is too intense, like staring at the sun or holding your hand over an open flame. “You probably want to rest.”

Cas hesitates before saying, “Yes. I suppose I should. Thank you again for this. I really love it.”

“Yeah, man.” Dean almost winces. “No worries. I’ll just...leave you to it.”

He steps back into the open doorway, unwilling to take his eyes away from Cas because he’s here, in the room Dean has imagined him in for weeks. It’s kind of annoying that Cas doesn’t have the same trouble. He turns his back, wandering towards the plants on the shelves and gently touching the leaves.

Dean lingers, like a moth perched on a lightshade.

“Are you - ” Just leave. “Are you gonna be ok by yourself? I mean, you said before that it was lonely being in the Empty. Thought maybe you’d want company?”

Cas seems surprised when he faces Dean again. “Oh. Well, yes, of course. I would enjoy you staying for a while. But please don’t feel like you have to.”

The idea of Cas thinking he’s keeping Dean against his will is laughable.

“So, er - ” He sits on the bed, fingers clutching at his blanket. “What do you wanna do? I could get my laptop and we could watch a movie? Or we could watch one of those nature documentaries that kinda send me to sleep? You know the ones with the British guy with smooth voice - ”

“Actually, I should rest. I am quite tired.”

“Oh.” Dean tries to not look crushingly disappointed. “Right, yeah.”

“You could rest with me.” Cas says, just like that. Like it’s not a big deal at all. Like guy friends just clamber into bed with each other all the time and die for each other and confess their love for each other...

“Sure.” Dean’s mouth decides for him. “We could – we could do that.”

So they get into bed together.

Cas slides in as though this is his regular night time routine, looking totally at ease in his new ‘jungle dreams’ bedding and borrowed blanket. Dean’s hands shake as he lifts up the covers and slides in too. He waits for it to be weird, waits for discomfort and his father’s face swimming in front of eyes.

Instead, he just feels warm.

They’re led next to each other, unmoving and flat on their backs. Dean’s right leg is about to fall off the bed and Cas’ shoulder looks like it’s digging into the nightstand. Maybe this bed wasn’t made to fit two fully grown men too afraid to touch.

“Dean, are you comfortable? I am not.”

He laughs and rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, this isn’t great. Maybe if we...uh - ”

“What about if we do this?”

Cas’ hands are suddenly everywhere, manhandling him in a way that Dean has never experienced before but wouldn’t mind experiencing again. He ends up with his head resting on Cas’ chest, forehead pressed against his neck. His right leg has nowhere to go but to hook around Cas’ legs, entwining them together.

And Cas is holding him.

His arms are wrapped around him and not just because they haven’t got anywhere else to go. Because he wants them to go there. Because he wantsto hold Dean. Possibly all night.

Dean starts to panic.

Led like this, his ear is pressed against Cas’ chest – his heartbeat the loudest thing he can hear. What if someone breaks into the Bunker without him knowing? What if something is happening to Sam? To Jack? And he hasn’t even brought a gun with him. He squirms a little, debating on popping back to his room to get one when Cas says,

“Are you thinking about getting a weapon, Dean? I promise you, you won’t need it.”

Cas’ deep voice rumbles through his body, rocking him out of his spiralling worry so quickly Dean briefly wonders if he used some of his remaining slither of grace to do it.

“I would never let anything happen to you.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“An intruder? Judging by our current position, I assume I am the being most visible from the door.”

Dean’s fingers curl in Cas’ borrowed sweater. “You mean you’d be shot first?”

“Yes.” Dean feels his arms tighten around him for a moment. “And I believe my body would shield you from the vast majority of attacks.” He sighs and his breath tickles Dean’s hair. “Of course, if someone were to gain access to the Bunker, it’s likely they would be a supremely powerful being. That would reduce our chance of survival by quite a lot. However, if you really insist on being armed, I am confident that in the few seconds I could shield you, you could at least reach for a makeshift weapon. Whatever good it would do.”

“Right. But...” Dean doesn’t really feel comforted. “I don’t want you to...” He can’t quite say the word.

“Die?” Cas finishes for him as his fingers begin to move, leaving warm trails over Dean’s back. “No, I cannot say that I am enthused by the idea either. I have no desire to leave you again.”

“Not ever?” Dean asks and despises himself for the needy edge in his voice.

“Not ever.” His hands are moving now, big and slow in soothing motions against Dean’s back. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this. Mom, he thinks. When he was a kid. He knows he must look pathetic – six foot plus guy that’s been to hell and back being held like a baby. He should move, should pull away, wipe his eyes and tell Cas it’s time he went back to his own room.

He doesn’t want to.

“You love me.” He says instead, face burning and mouth dry.

He feels Cas smile against the crown of his head. “Yes.”

“You’re like...in love with me.”

One of Cas’ hands moves higher, fingertips trailing over the back of his neck leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Yes.”

Dean will never admit to the half moan, half whine he lets out. He buries his face in Cas’ chest and breathes him in. The smell of him fills Dean’s lungs and Cas’ arms start to feel like a weighted blanket, pressing gently on his body. It makes his eyes soft and his limbs heavy.

As he drifts off, he feels Cas’ lips brushing against his temple.

Dean wakes slowly.

He’s cocooned in softness and warmth and he has no desire to rush anything anymore – least of all to the leave the comfort of his (new) memory foam and his angel. He shifts a little, nuzzling his nose against stubble.

“I thought you were making breakfast.” Cas’ voice rolls over him slow and sweet like honey.

“Hmm.” A murmur, breathed into Cas’ neck, is all Dean can manage.

“Dean, you did promise them.” Cas says, with barely a hint of firmness. His voice is a little husky, like he’s still battling the urge to sleep.

“Oh, yeah? When?” Dean’s lips brush over warm skin.

“Last night.”

He pretends to forget. “Can’t take anything I said last night serious, Cas.”

“Oh?” He sounds a bit more awake now – that familiar dry, teasing tone creeping in.

Dean feels a pang of something in his chest so intense he almost squirms. “Alright, maybe some things were serious.”

“Hmm.” One of Cas’ hands rubs languid strokes up and down his back. “I should hope so.”

The memories come back easy and bright, playing like a dream behind Dean’s heavy eyelids. The stillness of their bedroom is punctuated by the sound of quiet voices in the living room. He grins at that, relishing waking up with the love of his life and his family just in the next room. Happy. Safe.

“Screw ‘em.” Dean says, more to himself than Cas and rubs his foot along his leg a few times, settling down again.

Cas doesn’t seem to have any objections. His hand strokes higher, fingers brushing through Dean’s hair and his blunt nails lightly graze his scalp.

Dean almost whines, his head lifting to follow the touch. He half opens his eyes again and sees a smile, unhurried and adoring. Cas leans down a little and kisses him, stubble rough and lips soft. Dean’s fingers curl against skin and his legs squeeze a muscled thigh beneath the blankets.

They stay that way for a while – bodies warm and entwined, gently greeting each other as the new day dawns. The rising sun has drenched the room in rich yellow light, soft and muffled through the curtains.

Cas’ hand is just caressing his hip and his tongue is getting hotter and more demanding in Dean’s very willing mouth when there’s a knock at the door.

“I know you’re both awake.” Sam’s voice rumbles through the door, amused and still a little sleep rough. “And don’t think we forgot about breakfast either. Eileen wants pancakes and she says I don’t make them right.”

“Not unhealthy enough!” Eileen voice calls out, a little further away.

Dean laughs against Cas’ lips.

“Alright, alright! Gimme five.”

As they slowly detangle, he catches a glimpse of silver as Cas stretches. Dean’s hand feels heavy and warm, like someone’s been holding it for hours. Dean yawns and dangles one leg out of bed, then another. He’s easing himself into the day, taking it a bit at a time.

He can do that now.

He laughs as Cas drags him in for one last kiss before he slides away, shoving his feet into his slippers and tugging on his trusty robe. His ties it around him and wanders, a little stiff-legged, to the window. He pulls back the curtains and from the bed Cas both grumbles and raises his face to meet the sunrise.

Dean watches the sun bathe him in bright light and remembers seeing him like this before. But then it was moonlight and he and Cas were at some shitty motel just out of Colorado. Not in their own house, not in theirbedroom. Dean has his first unbearably intense wave of wild happiness. It won’t be the last one today.

“I like having a window.”

“I liked having eyesight.” Cas mutters, burying himself into the covers.

Dean laughs and thwacks him on the thigh as he passes out the door. Cas’ll be up in his own time.

Four steps and Dean’s in the kitchen.

His brother is perched on one of the chairs at the little island separating the kitchen from the living room. Eileen is signing at him and he’s watching, completely enraptured, with a look of total adoration on his face. Dean would have laughed at him for that once. Now, he knows what it’s like when someone looks at him like that. Now he knows what it’s like to look at someone like that.

But he might still laugh a bit. That’s a big brother’s right.

“Mornin’!” He calls cheerily, rummaging in the fridge for eggs and milk. He emerges triumphant, plopping them onto the counter with a grin. “If the lady wants pancakes, the lady gets pancakes.”

“Best brother in law ever.” Eileen says and Sam almost falls off his seat. She just shrugs cheekily. “Unofficially.”

“For now.” Dean winks and Sam splutters.

“Right, well. Once you’ve finished marrying me off, can we get some breakfast?”

“Alright, alright!” Dean glares but he’s itching to get started. “Goddamn demanding baby. Eileen you could do so much better. Sadly, I’m already taken - ”

She laughs and so does Sam. He wraps an arm around Eileen’s waist and she plays with his hair as they all talk. They talk about Jack getting hyperactive on sugared almonds, about Claire and Kaia wearing matching suits, about Jody and Donna getting drunk and singing karaoke until they were booed off the stage.

Then Cas stumbles out of their soft-lit room; hair wild and face crumpled. He bids them all good morning in a slightly rough tone before shuffling over for coffee. He cradles his mug in both hands as he leans against the corner counter, basking in the sun with his eyes closed.

Dean watches him, aching with joy.

Being in the dark with Cas is easy. But being with him in the light is better.

He twirls the whisk in his hand and it knocks against the ring on his left hand, so new it glows against his skin. Cas kisses his neck as he passes into the living room and Dean grins, looking up at his family.

“Hey, Eileen. What’s the sign for ‘husband’?”

[thejudgingtrash]

Annabeth is a good person,but not a nice or pleasant one,IMO.

YES.

That’s it. That’s the post. Pack it up everybody, we just cracked the case and cleared up one of the most compelling fights in the PJO fandom since forever. Good job everybody, clap it out and there’s the door! Don’t forget ordering the drinks at Starbucks, Mitch! They’re on me!

Okay, but on a more serious note: YES. YES EXACTLY.

And before some of you roll your eyes or grab your pitchforks – put your biases aside and hear me out for once. I like Annabeth. She’s my in my top three characters only second to Percy himself. I love Percabeth. It’s my favorite ship in the entire series and to be frank, the only ship that I care about PJO wise. Hell, I spend my time creating my own headcanons or writing my own fanfics with Percabeth being the star in them.

But that is not to say that I’m unable to see how certain things have developed over the years or where they stand now in regard to Annabeth. I’m not here to ignore things that have been said and/or done due to or in the name of Annabeth and I’m not here to vilify anyone that doesn’t like her. And I’m here to admit that I’m guilty of some of the things that may be addressed in this meta essay that you will read in just a second. However, I try my best to assure you, that I’m for once able to recognize my own bias.

Warning: a monster essay lies right upon you.

This should count as a paper of its own.

Back to the statement on top: I would go out even further to reframe your claim, anon:

Annabeth Chase is a good character but not a nice or pleasant person.

Annabeth is a wonderful character but she isn’t a nice one. Or at least not nice to everyone. She is (construction wise if I dare say) the best character out of the series. She has her positive traits (she’s caring, she’s emotional, she’s encouraged and volunteers, she fights for what she believes in, she forgives (even if doing so begrudgingly)) but she also has her negative traits (she’s stubborn, she’s brash, changing her mind takes forever, she is prejudiced, she baits others). That balances things out. She is branded as the intelligent kid but does irrational things (like I’ve just said a) she’s a kid and b) she’s not a robot). She should probably know better, but we all make mistakes and hopefully grow and learn from them. The clouds in the sky do blur and cover our visions sometimes.

Annabeth had clashes with other characters or was about to have fights due to her stubbornness or jealousy (Rachel, Reyna, etc.) and has of course her problems with the mortal world and her family but she also found new friends, some things cleared up throughout the narration and she was/is quite popular in Camp Half-Blood.

The thing is: she doesn’t have to be nice or pleasant (as a character). Or at least not all the time. Her character is humanized. That is what or who she is. Human. She does stand out as a character, not just because she’s the (future) love interest. She feels like someone you could meet in real life and either adore from the top to the bottom or declare as your biggest enemy. And that’s totally okay if you lean either way – liking or disliking her. Or even feeling indifferent about her. Also great!

To say that she has been the best character that Riordan has crafted is easy to say, because she has been sculpted after Riordan’s wife. He had a model he could rub some of real-life events or traits on. That’s not the problem. The problem truly doesn’t lie on Riordan’s side for the most part for once.

The problem is inherently on the fandom’s side. What the fandom does, how it acts and how it treats Annabeth as a character is the problem. The problems vary but it’s mostly the mischaracterization of Annabeth, starting fights and fan/ship wars, internalized misogyny (in some cases) and how some of the Annabeth stans lash out (ha, got firsthand experience in that field among many of my friends and mutuals!). There is a reason why many people are wary of people that have Annabeth or Percabeth related URLs.

The fact that we see Annabeth mostly through Percy’s lens and (until the Heroes of Olympus saga hits) we never really see her in chill everyday situations is essentially Riordan leaving the back door of the house open, ready for all of you asshats to rob his mansion in Boston. Because a frame on a character means that we don’t get to see the character in its entirety (unlike we do with Percy in PJO for the most part). That means a bunch of stuff is left open for interpretation which is the reason why Annabeth gets so many polarized headcanon and opinions tossed around. I think that is one of the true appeals of Annabeth. You can add on stuff and it necessarily doesn’t have to contradict itself.

We have people calling her abusive due to a (n admittedly stupid and unnecessary) judo flip and we have people that act like she’s never done anything wrong. People sorta use this excuse to form and shape Annabeth however they want and distort her characterization.

People in the fandom act like Annabeth is some weird prized possession. We perceive Annabeth mostly through the eyes of others (Percy, Apollo, etc.) and when we had some sort of insight in her ways (MOA, HOH) it felt… weird? Somewhat? Like Riordan left two bullet points of her characterization and told the ghostwriter: aight, fuck it up, gringo, see you on Tuesday and greet Fred the next time you see him for me. 

There have been many posts lately (by Tharini, Simi, Sawasawako, Jewishpercy and Annie I believe?) that HOO Percabeth felt weird. That they felt weirdly constructed, that there was no conflict, no growth. It felt stagnating, like we’re turning back. We had five books prior where we had Annabeth and Percy slowly shifting from disliking to liking and crushing each other. True development. And when we finally got the cake it felt… dissatisfying. Like the cheap box stuff and not the delicious exquisite taste that we were promised.

I said it previously in my Percabeth ship roast, but let me repeat myself: many Percabeth related things are straight up fanon. Some of it is very old fanon so that’s been unable to distinguish unless you’ve read the books recently and subtract nearly 99,9% of things you see on Tumblr (and occasionally the other shitty parts of the fandom like Reddit, IG, Twitter. Although they mostly steal and recycle tumblr stuff oh well. But back to the topic).

The way people treat Annabeth is so strange. She’s either an innocent fluffy smush baby that’s never harmed a fly and all that she wants for Christmas is being Percy’s lapdog or she’s the devil incarnate, broke into your house, killed your parents Batman style, kicked your puppy and didn’t flush the toilet on the way out. I think this is what mostly makes people hate her or the ship Percabeth. And both extremes are wrong and right at the same time? She is multifaceted so both stereotypes are true and untrue and sorta cancel each other out in the same way.

The true reason why people dislike Annabeth is because the stans are doing the most. (The haters as well, don’t get me wrong, but oh boy. Piss of a stan and you’ll know what I mean). That isn’t inherently new. Are you guys old enough to remember the ship wars that have happened cross platform? Perachel vs. Percabeth? Oh boy, oh boy. I saw some kids on tumblr a few months ago trying to infiltrate both tags and start shit (and also fail). The fact that Rachel still gets used as the bitchy (ex) girlfriend in fanfics? It’s 2020 guys. I know this apocalyptic year is far from perfect and over but I think we can let this trope die, right? Right? I thought we’ve established that Rachel is a pretty chill charcter by now… right?

If you posted your stuff on FFN back in 2010-2013 and it wasn’t the typical cutesy Percabeth story (Goode High, the gods read TLT, punk/prep Percabeth, college AU, etc.) people would’ve come for your fucking throat. Not because the story or the narration was shit. But because the pairing wasn’t Annabeth and Percy (in the sense that Annabeth had to be paired with Percy. I mean Percy gets shipped with everyone and their mother but for Annabeth it was strictly Percy. As annoying as this whole Connabeth thing is – the people behind it actually had a point. She never had a different love interest unless it’s a Percy centered story and he goes off dating Athena, Artemis and Zoe at the same time for some odd reason. Yeah, FFN Percy ships are something). Or it wasn’t the action filled canon compliant story or it wasn’t an AU that was popular.

People were really stubborn, snobbish and wanted their stuff in the four five boxes that were the most popular ones and that’s it. People have been bullied off the site in many fandoms, so it’s not a PJO-only thing but it’s still sad that it happened. (Off-note: most of these FFN tropes are still alive and well and thriving on AO3. Don’t be so snobbish and pretend that every piece you’d find there is a holy grail. There’s a lot of trash you have to waddle through. Same with Wattpad, Tumblr or anywhere else where fanfics get posted. Also had this discussion with Annabeth stans. Sigh).

And Tumblr back then? Forget it, wasn’t much better.

That view has sorta changed (at least for people that have been in the fandom for several years or have managed to find a way to navigate through it) but some of the negative sentiment from back in the day has survived. Be it by new fans coming in or from old fans that never let their stance die. The aggression feels differently and somewhat not. (I don’t know if the anon function had been abused that much back in the day. I was an observer not a participant in the fandom).

Crack a joke at Annabeth’s expense (Kal’s famous “Annabeth is a Republican” post or Dee Dee’s and many others “Annabeth has the education of a second grader, chill with the college plans, girlie” stance) and you have people insulting you, making callout posts, unfollowing and blocking you (based on only that? Okay, honey), making aggressive counter-posts, etc. in a minute. If you respond with “It’s a joke, it’s not real” you have a 50/50 chance of either getting blown off or embarrassing them so that they apologize for once.

This isn’t just about jokes. You can make a headcanon that’s not the cozy cute convenient mainstream saga and people would react the same way. Or art piece (no, not including the whole Tannabeth Blackchase shtick done by Viria and others) or fanfics.

People project so much onto the unfinished canvas that is Annabeth Chase that any form of negative sentiment as little as someone not liking her to straight up criticism, regardless of how tiny it may be, seems like an affront. Like an invitation to a fight. Like an insult to them, their character, everything they believe in. Let me state something:

You are NOT Annabeth Chase. Annabeth Chase IS NOT you. Annabeth Chase is NOT real. Her feeling cannot be hurt. Someone criticizing, disliking, joking about her or even insulting her will not bother her. Someone making a statement about her is not an insult to YOU.

Let me repeat that:

Annabeth Chase isn’t real. Annabeth Chase isn’t you.

So think a little before you act? I get it when you’re a kid and new to fandoms or haven’t been up with fan cultures in the past and are back in the scene. But if you’re in your late teens or even older as an adult and you’re unable to understand that you aren’t what you like – you aren’t the extension of a fictional character – I feel incredibly sorry for you. Because that’s just incredibly sad. Someone disliking something you like isn’t an attack of your character. It shows you that you are you and the other person is a human just like you. That they just have different taste. Disliking something you like isn’t a crime, you know? But me feeling sorry for the way some of y’all act won’t mean that that’s even remotely okay. Especially if you’re no longer in the intended audience for PJO age wise and should know better.

This isn’t a “white stans” only thing. I’ve seen and witnessed firsthand how people of color, mainly women of color, act the same or not even worse when it comes to her character. People have projected their problems and real-life occurring events into her character (I’m sure that she isn’t the only character nor that this is the only fandom where this is happening) and in some cases like I’ve said cannot separate their own personality from the fictional world. Fights with woc happened because of Annabeth fucking Chase. So many things have happened in the fandom the past few months, mostly due to people being forced staying at home because of the quarantine but I’d say it’s 10% on quarantine and 90% on people for acting up like this.

So here’s a little story: There was the act of Riordan blowing the fandom up because of his own stupidity and being unable to apologize for his mischaracterization and lack of research (the whole Piper fiasco) back in June (?) and admits the upset fandom, people on Twitter, Tumblr and Discord legit thought that none of that mattered and that the outcry was destroying Annabeth Chase’s birthday. That’s right. People thought that Annabeth Chase’s non-existing birthday because she’s a fictional character had a higher priority than the rupture and prevalent racism in the fandom. Okay. This isn’t a great look, Annabeth stans. And this of course pissed a lot of people off. I made a post about it and someone not only berated three other people on said post but no, we had a mighty argument which had disrupted many friendships in our circle which haven’t recovered until this very day. We both had our parts in it and no one is innocent. But the cause of this still remains Annabeth Chase or how people prioritize her non-existing well-being. Anyway. I’m getting agitated just thinking about it.

Let’s go back to the characterization thing with Annabeth. Let me remind you:

Annabeth Chase is an asshole. There I’ve said it in a post ages ago (too lazy to look it up, sorry) and I’ll say it again. And that’s not me insulting her. That’s me actually loving that about her. Annabeth is one of the very few unapologetic female characters that really showed all young readers across the world that you can be a girl, a badass, smart, strong, standing up for yourself and what you believe in. You don’t have to be nice. You don’t have to hide your feelings. You don’t need a man in all cases but it’s also okay to accept help and defeat.

A large reason why I think she’s an incredibly important character in children’s literature/YA because many other novels (mostly (sadly)) have the “Oh, I’m a white skinny dark-haired girl that likes unconventional things like READING. I’m not like the other girls, that take care of themselves and pamper themselves by enjoying shopping and wearing make-up. No, I’d rather be one of the boys but a sweet cute little boy and not the jock fuck that drank vodka shots out of a filthy shoe once. Despite me calling myself hideous every man in a 10-kilometer radius falls in love with me and tells me I’m oh so sexy and by the way I’m only 16 years old” shit going on for no goddamn reason.

Yes, I do blame Twilight for this mostly in recent years, but this trope isn’t by any means knew. Pretty sure that you could even use classics as Pride and Prejudice and dissect them in the same manner (Bold statement: Lizzy Bennet is the OG Bella Swan. There. Go fight somewhere in the corner, people). The new wave of YA focuses on girls belittling themselves and only starting to believe in themselves because someone else (mostly the male love interest) tells them they’re worth it. And these books hit the mainstream because they’re incredibly bland and picture perfect white.

With Annabeth it’s different. She shows up for the job and is done with it. (Brie Larson would probably be the perfect in real life version of her. You either like or dislike her. Or you really don’t care). That is what is so refreshing about her. Her unapologetic nature. Can it be off-putting? Yes. Is it annoying? Yes! Hell, every time I read The Lightning Thief, I want to rip her goddamn head off. And it’s just so well written. Her shift from mistrusting Percy but secretly still believing in him to her opening up. Wow, Riordan did something right there.

Annabeth Chase isn’t a young character. She has existed along with PJO for 15 years. She’s on her way to the second decade. I’m pretty sure that with the success of Percy Jackson (and Harry Potter) many lives have been warped and shaped.

But when I say the problem lies mostly in the fandom, it doesn’t mean that Riordan’s completely innocent. The only problem that I have with Annabeth lies not truly with her but the fact that Riordan is only able to produce three variations of female characters:

The sweetheart (Hazel, Silena, Calypso, Hestia)

The strong feminist (Annabeth, Piper, Thalia, Reyna, Artemis)

The bitch (Drew, nearly every female goddess in the goddamn Riordanverse next to every female monster)

And these female characters only know three endings:

End up married with a mortgage, three kids, two dogs and a cat somewhere in Connecticut by the age of twelve

Get dumped into the hunt

Chill on Mount Olympus and only come down to be a nuisance and/or give a cryptic message before going back and doing a godly rave party or something

We know Annabeth as the badass strong female first (or the bitchy character we’re supposed to actually like. Choose your approach), the blueprint so to speak, so some of the other characters feel almost pale in comparison and almost not needed? Doesn’t mean that other characters can’t behave similarly, but it feels kind of redundant especially if their character arcs end in a rather anticlimactic way (Thalia, Reyna). The new additions are the much needed woc as the main story with PJO was inherently white (anyway stan black!Percy and Grover, folks). So it’s not to bash on the new characters, it’s more Riordan’s fault more than anything.

Since Riordan only knows three female character arcs it feels like he tried to copy the formula several ways with different nuances. Some more or less successful. This is where fandom actually comes in handy and helps create more distinguished and fleshed out characters in form of headcanons or fanfiction.

But even in these cases people still make it about Annabeth when it’s time for characters of colors to shine. Remember that whole spiel and discussion that broke out when people (Kal, diver-up, Caitlyn, Bee, reynaisalesbian, etc.) joked about or criticized that Annabeth thinks that she’s having it harder because she’s a blonde? In front of Hazel and Piper? If she would’ve been a real person that’s an invitation for getting decked. And then all hell broke loose because Annabeth stans couldn’t accept the fact that in the real world and/or in fictional worlds the woc/coc have it harder? That the white woman wasn’t the victim that needed the coddling? Yeah, that was mad pathetic.

I hope you people get my point?

Well fuck. I wrote so many things and have the feeling I’ve said nothing. Anyway, I hope I made sense. This is way too long.

TLDR: Chill about Annabeth please. She’s an important character but that doesn’t mean that everyone has to like her, regardless of being a character in the books or a reader/fan of PJO in real life. She isn’t nice or a sweetheart all the time. She also isn’t the monstrous asshole that some try to make out of her.

Peace out.

[reidsconverse]

memories • spencer reid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none! just 4000 words of pure angst

This was an old fic reworked to be about around spencer so its taking a lottt of creative/artistic liberty with the character, so it kinda sucks im sorry! 😁

Every moment you had with him was one to be remembered and cherished for better or worse.

It had been a few weeks since Spencer had officially ended things, he had moved all of his stuff out of your apartment and now it seemed as if he had never even existed in the same place as you, as though you two were strangers. That is had it not been for the images of memories the two of you held. So, here you were sat alone in your room, your only company the half-empty bottle of wine and photographs of the two of you which sat strewn carelessly across your floor.

You picked up a picture and stared at it realising you both looked so happy. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, a cup in his hand and his signature grin sitting across his face. Your head was leaning against his shoulder, the smile on your face reminding you of how free you had felt that night, you had never felt happier and you recognised that night as the night you realised...you were so in love.

"We should have a party," Spencer yelled despite there being no one else other than the two of you in the room.

"Right now?" You looked at him as if he was insane, not only was it completely out of character for your boyfriend but also, it was 1 am on a Wednesday and although your friends weren't those with a regular schedule you presumed most of them would decline a house party in the middle of the week.

"Yeah right now, c'mon doll I'll call Derek and some of the others and you call your friends." His hand was already on his phone texting Derek before you could protest so you followed his instructions and went ahead and invited your friends before getting up and preparing for this impromptu party.

It had only been 10 minutes when you heard Derek and some others open the door shouting for Spencer and you walked over with a grin on your face, "Hey D, Spencers being a diva and redoing his hair, he'll be right down." You said, rolling your eyes as Derek pulled you into a hug, he may have been Spencer's best friend but he thought of you as a sister and always treated you as such.

"Well I have look good for my girl," You heard Spencer say from behind you quickly placing a kiss on your cheek before doing his weird handshake with Derek, "Hey, thanks for coming'."

The three of you made your way to the kitchen to grab some drinks and greet some more guests who had congregated in that area and before you knew it, you were 4 shots in, feeling way past tipsy and in the mood to dance.

"Hey Spence," You said walking over to where he was now sat, a cup in his hand as he held a conversation with JJ and Emily about something that you didn't care too much about. You waved a quick hello to the girls so as not to be rude and then placed your head on his shoulder to let him know of your presence.

"Hey darling, you feeling good?" He turned his face and flashed you a wide grin before wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to him. He enjoyed being near you whenever he could, when he was away he would long for the days where all he did was sit and hold you close to him regardless of what the two of you were doing, so now whenever he had the chance he would hold you close.

"Feelin' great Spence.. wanna dance with you..."  You said pulling out of his hold and grabbing his hand leading him onto the 'dance floor', which was just the open space in your living room. He laughed and quickly finished his drink, discarding the cup somewhere in the room and held you as you both danced to the music playing through the speakers.

After a couple of songs, you both made your way to get another drink and get a break from the crowd, you sat at the kitchen island and passed him a drink."You know, considering you're a genius, I would've thought you'd be able to coordinate a bit better."  You said teasing him about his choice of moves which had essentially been him waving his arms in the air attempting to be in tune with the music.

He looked at you in fake shock and scoffed, "Yeah well it was still better than whatever you were trying to do." Referring to your horrendous attempt at trying to be sexy which in truth was never going to be anything but embarrassing. You stuck your tongue out in a childish manner causing him to laugh and quickly move to place his lips against yours giving you a soft kiss.

You jumped down from the counter after pulling back as a couple of your friends walked in and struck up a conversation about nothing interesting yet you made the effort to look engaged as Spencers's arm slipped over your shoulders and you placed your head against his shoulder.

"Hey guys, look here." You both turned to see your friend Harry, as always with a polaroid camera in his hand. You and Spencer gave each other a quick smile before grinning wide for the camera, both your faces full of love and happiness.

You sat there thinking about how quickly things can change, the people in the image you held so young and naive to the struggles the future would hold. Taking another sip of your wine you skimmed through some more pictures before stopping at one that held a bittersweet meaning. A picture that was taken a few days after what had been your worst fight, you both looked happy but all you could think about the events leading up to the image being taken.

It was your and Spencers 5th anniversary and he had promised he would make it to dinner. You hadn't seen each other in weeks because he was away on a case but he had promised he wouldn't miss this day, he had asked for permission from Hotch to leave for a couple of days so he would be there. "No excuses, No ifs and buts...I'll be there babe. I promise."

But there you were, alone at a table for two. The look on the waiters face held nothing but pity as he walked over for the fourth time to ask if someone would be joining you. Finally, you gave up and shook your head to let him know you would be leaving and would like the cheque. You had never felt so humiliated walking out of the restaurant head held high but tears building up in your eyes and so you cried. You felt so broken, almost as broken as all those promises Spencer had made you. The word promise and sorry had lost all meaning in the last 5 years, simply a courtesy rather than meaningful.

The minute you got home your phone began ringing, it was Spencer.

"Hey doll, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it, the team wanted to go out last night and I kind of missed my -." He began to explain causing you to scoff, 'no ifs or buts' my ass.

"How could you?" Your voice cracking as you tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill for the second time that night. "I waited for 2 fucking hours Spencer, I felt like a fucking idiot."  

"What? What are you talking about?" His voice was full of confusion. "Didn't you get my text?"

"No, I fucking didn't. I didn't get a fucking text. But that's not the fucking point, You should've been here, you promised you would be here."

"Babe, I'm so -," He began but you knew what he was gonna say. The only conversations you seemed to have were stuck on a loop like a broken record.

"Save it. Don't say you're sorry when you don't mean it, stop saying sorry and show it instead."

"Look, I'll get on the first flight out. I'll see you in a few hours, I'll make it up to you I prom-." You hung up the phone before he could continue, his promise worth nothing to you anymore. Walking over to the couch, you fell asleep the minute your head rested against one of the many cushions populating the seat.

You woke up to keys jingling in the door, yet you made no effort to move from where you were. The sound of his footsteps got louder as he approached.

"Babe? I know you're up." He said, kneeling beside you making you sigh and sit up. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

You just stared at him, it might have been petty but you didn't want to give in to his apologies just yet, he had to understand just how much he had hurt you first.

"I couldn't care less anymore, Spencer. I just need to remember that I'll always come second to work and that's fine, it's important to you and I understand that." You got up and walked over to the kitchen to gather yourself.

"Babe you are the most important thing to me, I'm sorry-."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Here we go again, Spencer there's only so many times you can say you're sorry before it loses all meaning. I'm sick and tired of this, I don't know if I can do this anymore. You're never here, you make promises you can never keep and I'm pretty sure you've told me you're sorry more times than you've told me you love me."

"Please don't do this. I love you." His voice was shaking, breaking down at the thought of you leaving him. He moved over to you and turned you so you were facing him. "I know this means nothing to you but I am so sorry. I've been so shitty to you and I know it."

"Spencer, I deserve better than this and I'm sick of forgiving you and acting like I'm fine with how you treat me, you might not mean it but it fucking hurts. I love you so much and I know you love me but would it kill you to put me first for once in your fucking life."

This annoyed him, the lack of sleep and being overworked leaving him less patient and more irritable, "That's not fucking fair, you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating me, I'm doing my fucking best. I go to work for US, to support US. If I could devote all of my time to you if I could, but I can't and it fucking kills me. You can't understand how much I miss you when I'm not here."

Tears welled in your eyes seeing him breakdown, unable to keep up the unbothered facade you had on, "I just...Spence, I miss you too. It hurts not being able to be near you and so when you're not there when you promise you will be, it hurts it really fucking hurts not to mention it's terrifying, how am I supposed to know you're ok if you do shit like that."

He pulled you into his arms as you sobbed into his chest, all the emotions you'd kept bottled up during the argument letting go. "I know baby, I'm so sorry I hurt you. I promise, and I mean it this time, I won't let you down again. I love you." He mumbled into your hair, slowly kissing your forehead whilst consoling you and holding you like he never wanted to let go.

The two of you went to bed that night in silence, not a word was spoken until the next day wherein Spencer switched off his phone and dedicated the whole weekend to you and only you. He kept his word once he had to leave, always fulfiling his promises, never pushing you to the side and communicating with you always. The two of you felt strong again, you were happy.

You put your glass down and walked out of your room and began pacing around the living room, pictures of you and him still up on your walls, the walls that no longer belonged to the both of you. You thought back to when he asked you to move him, how nervous he was and how excited you were.

It was movie night at Spencers house. Each week he invited everyone over to watch a film, everyone taking it in turns to select a film. This week Emily had chosen Midsommar, a film you were yet to see so you were excited. You were sat beside Spencer on the loveseat, his arm around you and your face resting against his chest, a blanket covering you both for extra comfort. You looked up and saw Derek and Penelope lay spread across the floor whilst JJ and Emily sat on the sofa. Bowls of popcorn and sweets were scattered around the room and beer bottles were piling up. It was nights like this that you wanted to treasure forever, for the first time you felt like you had a family, people to call your own, people you could trust.

"Watcha thinking about?" Spencer asked, glancing at you and realising your mind wasn't directed at the movie anymore.

"Nothing, just really lucky to have you in my life," You reached your hand up to hold his face and gave him a soft kiss. "I love you."

He pulled you in closer if that was even possible, "I love you too."

"Ugh, get a room." Derek groaned making you both chuckle.

Spencer responded by throwing some popcorn at him, "Aw is someone jealous, don't worry you'll find someone soon enough."

Derek murmured a quiet, "Fuck off" before turning his attention back to the movie, making everyone laugh.

The movie ended shortly and everyone was discussing what to watch next, you were in the mood for a comedy but Derek wanted to watch Die Hard for the millionth time. After several minutes of slight arguing, you finally decided on rewatching Moana for the 12th time.

Everyone was pretty much settled, drinks refilled, popcorn replenished and everyone back in their positions. Emily was about to press play before JJ stopped her, "Wait before you start I'm kinda cold can I borrow a sweater?" She asked Spencer.

"Yeah sure, take one from our room." He said casually like it was normal but it made your breath hitch in your throat, did he just say our room? As in, yours and his. Unofficially he wasn't wrong, it was your room as much as his, you spent pretty much every night here making having your own apartment redundant, but he hadn't yet asked you to move in with him. You couldn't help the small blush on your face and the way your lips turned upwards at his words. It made you happy knowing he thought of it as something for both of you.

"What has you so happy?" Penelope asked in a teasing tone, she'd picked up on Spencer words and knew exactly why you were smiling.

You just stuck your tongue out at her and looked up at Spencer, "Our room huh?" You asked making him smile.

"Yeah I mean, you're here every day, maybe more than I am. You should just move in at this point." He let out a little laugh after he said leaving you confused as to whether he was being serious, so you just laughed along and waited for JJ to come back so you could start the movie.

A couple of hours later almost everyone was half asleep, everyone apart from you and Spencer. You began making your way to his room followed by him carrying the blanket he had taken from his bed. The two of you went about your night routine, Spencer had insisted on keeping at least half of your things at his place hence why you never had to leave. You quickly changed into one of his shirts which fit you just right and climbed into bed where he was already sitting, reading a book.

"Spence, were you being serious...earlier when you said I should move in?" You asked him, making him put down his book and look at you.

"Would you like that? You don't have to say yes but I would love it if you moved in. The mornings when I wake up and you're still next to me, are the best mornings. Honestly, knowing I'm going to wake up next to you makes falling asleep easier. Plus Tesla and Edison love you, maybe even more than they loves me." He asked, the mention of his fish making you laugh despite the fact your eyes were welling up, what had you done to deserve the sweetest man to walk the earth.

You shifted yourself so you were straddling him and held his face in your hands, "I would love to move in with you." You answered placing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you so much," He said as you moved back to laying down next him. "You make me the happiest man alive and I'm so lucky to have you."

"God, Spence you gotta stop before I start crying, I love you too." You said, as he laughed and pulled you into a comfortable sleeping position.

"Goodnight love." He mumbled, already falling asleep.

"Goodnight Spence." You responded, closing your eyes and beginning to drift off but not before saying, "By the way, the fishies definitely love me more."

You hadn't realised you were crying until a tear fell onto the frame you were holding. The image just as blurred as the memories it held. You carefully placed the image face down onto the table rather than placing it back up. Making your way to the sofa, you got your phone out and glanced at the image that had left you in this state. A picture of him and her, his hands holding hers as tight as they once held yours, the grin on both of their faces wide. He was happy, only it wasn't because of you anymore. You closed your eyes again, remembering how it all ended.

He had been distant since he had come back from this last case, he had been away for almost two months trying to catch this unsub and you had thought he'd be more excited to come back to you and finally be home. But he hadn't spent more than 10 minutes with you, the only time the two of you were in the same room for longer than that was when you fell asleep. Recently that had also stopped, he spent more nights away from home and at clubs with Derek and Emily , only coming back once he knew you weren't there. It was killing you but every time you questioned it he shrugged you off, telling you he loved you.

You wanted to scream at him if he loved you why isn't he showing it, why does he refuse to acknowledge you. You knew he was lying to you, he didn't love you anymore, you could see it in his eyes, how he never looked at you as he used to, he never held you like he used to. It was killing you and you knew you should ask him but you also knew that would lead to conversation you didn't want to have, an ending you didn't want to happen. So you kept quiet, went about your day and didn't question his actions, you had decided you would rather have the worst of him than not have him at all.

But that didn't last long. A few weeks later something happened, something you could ignore. Spencer had barely been home, only coming back to grab new clothes and leaving again often returning at 4 am or not all. The nights you spent alone, his side of the bed going cold broke your heart bit by bit. But you weren't ready for it to completely shatter, the images Penelope sent you of him holding that girl, a little too close, a little too tight, a little too much, start to fill your screen causing a lump in your throat and tears threatening to spill. You walked to the kitchen, surprised to see him there, he was sat at the counter head in his hands and a coffee in front of him.

"Spencer, what fuck is going on?" You all but shouted.

"Shh, my heads killing me." He said, burying his head in his hands attempting to block you out.

"You fucking asshole." You screamed at him, the pain and hurt evident in your broken voice as you tried your best not to cry.

This made him look up, far quicker than he should've causing his head to fill with pain and throb, but he didn't care, the memories of last night were coming back he knew he had fucked up. "I-I'm sorry, I was drunk and she was just there, nothing happened.

"You're sorry? Are you fucking kidding me?" You said, moving away from him as he got up to come closer to you. "No, don't fucking touch me. I'm done."

"What? No look I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I love you." The words were said, but the tone held so much uncertainty you couldn't tell if he was trying to convince you or himself.

"No you don't Spencer, not anymore. I know you don't and I've been lying to myself, saying that I'm ok with it when I'm not. I love you so much but I can't keep hurting myself by pretending like we're fine, We're not fine, we haven't been for a long time. Yes that fucking hurts, I thought we were forever, I thought we were going to grow old together and have kids and show them that we were soulmates. I thought we were perfect but we aren't."

"I never wanted to hurt you, I love you so much but-" He started with a sigh.

"You're not in love with me anymore..." You finished for him

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different, I wish I could control how I felt. You were everything to me, I really did picture a future for us but things changed, I don't know why and I don't know how. You don't deserve this, I'm so sorry."

"I know Spence, I know." You moved closer to him and he held you like it was the last time... because it was. "I'm sorry too."

You pulled away from him."I'll grab some stuff and go stay at my mom's for a few days. I just need to find a new place to move my stuff to." You said, trying to brush some tears away but failing as they kept falling.

"No, it's fine. I'll go, this is just as much your home as it is mine. I'll stay with Derek for a bit, you take your time sorting stuff out ok?" He said, using his thumbs to attempt to wipe away your tears. You sighed but nodded knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer.

You sat down as he went to the room to gather some things, your mind reeling from the last half hour. How could so much change in such a short period of time, years spent together thrown away so quick.

"I'm done, I'll get going ok?" He said placing his duffel bag down beside by the door.

"So this is it huh?" You said, with a sigh. You felt him walk towards you and take a seat next to you.

"The last 10 years have been the most incredible time of my life, you put up with so much of my shit and loved me unconditionally and I can't thank you enough for giving the eager 25-year-old who wanted nothing more than to impress you a chance. I'm never going to stop loving you, you know that. I'm never gonna forget about you, my first love, the first woman to capture my heart. I'm so sorry things didn't work out like how we'd imagined them. If I could change how I feel I would, I wanted nothing more than for this to be a silly phase, for me to wake up one day and feel how I felt again. But it didn't happen and it fucking sucks."

"I get it, Spence, you have to do what makes you happy and I'm not gonna stop you. I'm just sorry it wasn't me that could give you want and need, but you're gonna make some girl out there very happy if you're even half the man you were when you were with me." You gave him a soft smile as he stroked your hair and kissed your forehead.

He stood up and walked to the door. "Call me when you're ready ok? I love you." He turned and gave you a soft smile before picking up his bag and walking out the door.

You just broke down, you don't know how long you sat there sobbing your heart out but it felt like forever. Everything hurt so bad you didn't think you'd ever feel any emotion other than heartbreak for as long as you lived.

You took a deep breath as your hand hovered over the delete button on your phone, it was time to move on just as he had. As you released the breath you were holding, your finger pressed against the button, deleting all the pictures you had with him and you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and the realisation sunk in.

You loved him so much, but he wasn't yours to love anymore.

He was just a memory.

-

tagged: @gcblers​ @187-reid​ @mgg-theprettiestboy​ @mggbler​ @snitchthewitch��

[dynyamight]

10

send me an otp ask & i'll answer

10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.

The lights in the kitchen turn on. “You’re late.”

Midoriya refuses to meet the sharp gaze pointed at him. Instead, he focuses on setting his keys and wallet on the counter beside the doorway. “Long day.” He states lowly, as he shrugs off his winter coat.

“Long day.” The voice mocks,“That’s all you’re gonna give me tonight? Just, ‘long day’?”

He shucks off his shoes, not bothering to neatly set them. “Kacchan, please. Let’s talk about this in the morning. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, and I’m tired of your bullshit!” Bakugou spats out, his fists banging on the kitchen table. The sounds of plates and silverware rattle violently. “I ain’t passing this off to tomorrow, because you say so! Where the fuck were you!?”

The headache in his head booms loudly, in sync to the yells. “They needed someone to work overtime.” Midoriya sighs, looking down at his hero costume. Charred edges. Ripped sleeves. Dirt all over. God, he’s a wreck. “So, I had to patrol another twelve hour shift..”

“No, you don’t.” Bakugou growls, “You could have easily declined, and they would have found some other extras to patrol the city.”

Midoriya really doesn’t want to look over at him, nor at his surroundings. Because he knows he screwed up, big time. There’s a fragrance of cinnamon and spice filling the room, and there’s a lovely, cozy warmth airing in the apartment. Midoriya can only assume there’s candles everywhere.

So, he doesn’t look. He can’t. “Yeah, I could’ve.”

“Could’ve!?” There’s a sharp, terrible screech of the chair sliding off, and it immediately clatters onto the ground. “No, Deku! You fucking should’ve! You should’ve told the agency off. Should’ve gone home, the moment you had the chance. Should’ve made it home, like we had fucking planned!”

“You can’t possibly think you’re more important than the citizens that need to be protected, every day!” Midoriya voices out, glaring down at the countertop. “There’s always another day for us, but that’s not guaranteed for the people out there!”

“You’re acting like there ain’t other heroes out there!” Bakugou shouts back, "There's plenty!"

“Yet, there’s only one inheritor of One for All! You know, better than I do, that I need to be there, if something happens!”

“Everything you’re saying means nothing to me!”

The yelling finally irks him. Midoriya grips at his curls, shaking his head. “Then, what the hell do you want me to say?! Anything I tell you right now, is just going to make you more upset!”

For a moment, nothing else is said. Instead, the only noise that emits between them is the ticking of the clock, and the deep breathing from each other.

Midoriya plans to start walking to the bedroom, when finally Bakugou mutters, “Say it to my face.”

His mind is left blank. “..What?”

“Say it to my face.” Bakugou repeats, never once raising his voice. Though, the heat of his frustrations still linger. “Say your damn, stupid excuse to my face, Deku. Say it with the straightest face you can pull. And, if you can, I’ll fucking drop it.”

He knows he’s being baited. “You’re lying.”

“Me? A liar?” Bakugou barks out a laugh, “You know I don’t say shit I don’t mean. Every word I say, I fucking mean it. Unlike you.”

Despite the small clapback, Midoriya can’t help, but want to take on the challenge. All he had to do was repeat everything he said to Bakugou. Look at him right in his eyes, and just repeat his words.

And, then, Bakugou will forgive him.

Yet, when Midoriya finally raises his head up to right in front of him, he knows it’s impossible.

The dinner table was fully set. Cold miso soup. Untouched katsudon. Empty wine glasses. Melted candles. And, a bouquet of roses in a vase, wilted, with fallen petals.

And, Bakugou stood at the end of it all. Already in his tank and sweats, the only tell that it was switched was the gold chain around his neck that he always wore on special occasions. Even his nails, painted black and pretty, was only something he did when he was properly dressed to the nines. Something that was reserved for a special night.

Yet, none of that was what pained Midoriya. It was his eyes. Red, swollen, and tired. And, despite the narrowed, pinched expression he gave, Bakugou’s entire face was rosy and damp. Tear tracks were obvious on his cheeks.

“You can’t possibly think you’re more important than the citizens that need to be protected, every day!”

God, Midoriya’s the absolute worst.

Bakugou’s the first to speak, scoffing. “I know I will never compare to hundreds of lives. I fucking know that, Deku..” He admits in a whisper. “You think I ain’t a hero, either?”

“That’s not-”

“But, when I said yes to this relationship,” Bakugou hisses, his brows furrowing. “I was very aware that not only I had a responsibility as a hero, but as a partner. To you. There’s now things I have to be willing to sacrifice, and things I can’t, because I chose to be with you ”

“So, tell me why I have to pull in my weight in our goddamn relationship, making time out of my schedule, making sure I’m there for you, when you’re out here, treating me like shit!”

The ache in his words leaves Midoriya unable to breathe. He feels so bad, it hurts. His stubborn, cold stone resolve melts. “K-Kacchan, I’m sorry. I-”

“Shut up!” Bakugou bangs the dinner table, once more. Harder. Louder. He shoves a pointed finger right at him. “I have listened to every whiny ass apology that comes out of your ass already! You have left me in the dust, countless times! Making me look like a fool, out at restaurants, parties, and everyone!”

“I know! And, I feel terrible every time!”

“Our anniversary! All I asked was for one night! One damn night! And, you still say the people are more important than your boyfriend fucking waiting for you at home!”

“You are important to me!” Midoriya insists, feeling tears well up in his eyes. “I just, I don’t know how to manage all this!”

Immediately, Bakugou starts walking up to the front door. He shoves Midoriya by the edge of his shoulders, as he slides aimlessly into some slippers. “I’m going to Shitty Hair’s place.”

Midoriya lunges over, grabbing the arm that’s outreached for the door handle. “Kacchan, please. Let’s talk about this!”

“You know what,” Bakugou snarls, pushing off Midoriya, “Let’s talk about this in the morning. I’m tired.”

Like an arrow to his side, Midoriya winces at his own words being used against him. “Please.” He begs, “I don’t want to let you go, when you’re like this.”

Breathing a long sigh, Bakugou pivots around him, sternly staring right up at Midoriya. “24 hours. By then, if you don’t find a way to manage your ‘symbol of peace’ mantra, without fucking me over, then I’m letting you go.”

Even hours after Bakugou goes out into the winter cold, leaving him alone in their apartment, Midoriya stays by the front door, seated on the floor. Tears flowing out him, with nothing to stop them from falling.