#brother is graduating for the second time and everyone’s showering him with love and praise but I had to fucking struggle to even get my GED

[milo-is-rambling]

I know I should be excited for my brother but this whole thing feels like it’s going to be hours and hours of me feeling like a failure while my brother is happy and it’s so hard to step out of myself and be fully happy for him without feeling like a shitty disappointment

#still so upset i didn’t even get the fun graduation or prom or anything parts of high school bc I dropped out and got my ged and here my #brother is graduating for the second time and everyone’s showering him with love and praise but I had to fucking struggle to even get my GED #and no one really celebrated at all #idk. I just don’t see myself going to college really so it’s hard to think about one never getting any of this for me and two my dad not #being here to see it bc normally he was the one who would understand when I was being selfish and he would talk me out of it or at least try #while my mom was just praising my brother and being happy for her son my dad was always comforting me #ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh I feel like a failure who’s dad is dead #crying in the car waiting for my mom to get to graduation #vibes are bad but I’m so happy for my brother and so proud cause this whole thing kicked his ass and to even be in a place where he can walk #at graduation and do summer courses is incredible #like even tho he struggled he really pulled thru and I love him and I’m so proud but also why am I such a fuck up and why does no one #celebrate when I do well especially after being such a fuck up #ugh. #so sick of crying I’m gonna be crying all day #fuck this fuck this fuck this fuck this I want to stay in the car forever and do nothing

[nhebi]

a win | w. ushi | angst

❥ warning : unrequited love (?)

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There you were, Shiratorizawa's manager and also a second-year who able to find a gap into the heart of the cold, distant third-year ace, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

As the twin sister of Shirabu Kenjirou, Ushijima never paid any attention or bothered to show one when you were introduced to the team (except when he tried to find a similarity between you two) . After all, he'd soon graduate and become a professional athlete, letting go any shackles he had in this academy.

Unlike him, his teammates showered you with abundant amount of affection, especially Tendou, Kenjirou (well, he's your brother, after all) and Semi. Three of them would never leave you without a small pat or a praise for being a good manager at least once in a day.

"Shirabu-chan!" Tendou called out, pulling you into a tight hug as Kenjirou looked at him with a sigh.

"Senior, I'm a Shirabu, too. Also, let go of my sister," he rumbled, changing into his uniform as Tendou let you go and smiled at you.

"(y/n)-chan, do you wanna play a game?" he asked in a hush tone before you nodded, agreeing on it.

"Alright! That's what I like from you,"

Ushijima looked at both of you and began to think about 'like', which was such a strange word to fill his ears. But for once, he felt a warm feeling lingering around his heart. For once, feeling curious about what'd you and Tendou do.

It seemed like Tendou gave you some tricky questions because your nose and eyebrows scrunched up lightly. A habit you always had when you had a hard time to solve a difficult math homework (he saw you almost beat Kenjirou up for getting two points more) or had to think Tendou's harmless questions.

A clap brought him back to the reality as you smiled at the small box Tendou held, asking for you to open it before you let out a small gasp, looking at anything inside it with awe. Taking it out with your dainty fingers, he noticed that Tendou gave you a handmade chocolate as you took a bite and hummed in delight, praising him for making a delicious sweet.

"You'll be a wonderful chocolatier, senior! I'm sure of it," you smiled at him before thanking him for the chocolate and went away to wash your hand.

"Tendou, what did you do with her?" Ushijima looked at him in silent, but couldn't help but felt a small pang on his heart whenever Tendou mentioned your name, showing him how happy you were around him.

Ushijima could never done anything that was comparable to it. Hell, he couldn't even smile at your direction when you smiled and waved at the entire team, making them smiling again even after a really bad event.

When you came back to the gym, Ushijima noticed that your hairs was a bit messed around. So, he walked to your direction only to find he was late. He didn't notice Semi, who was few steps behind you, stopped you from walking to fix your hair and telling you how beautiful you looked.

'Yeah, she's very beautiful,' Ushijima thought to himself as the coach called out for them to practice while you were busy taking care of drinks and towels for the team.

It had been days and days. Yet, Ushijima couldn't shake you off from his thought and it made him worried that he might have something wrong in his head and coincidentally, it stuck in the thought that only had you on it.

Talking about it to Tendou, he was stunned when Tendou laughed into his direction and told him that he had been in love with their manager and just acknowledged it. Ushijima, who was new to it, couldn't help but kept being denial about it. Telling him that it'd be impossible for him to feel it in a short amount of time.

Unbeknownst to him, you had decided to resign from your position as a manager and recommended your junior to replace you. Not knowing the reason why you wanted to resign pretty early, the coach asked you for an explanation before let you bid your last farewell with the team.

Entering the gym, Ushijima looked at everyone who had been there before him. Looking at the clock, he wasn't sure why all of them already came when practice would start in an hour. Looking at the spiritless Tendou, he noticed that everyone almost looked lifeless, especially Kenjirou before he opened up his mouth, asking where the manager was.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Shirabu told me practice usually would start in an hour. Forgive me for being late," a first year said while stood up in front of the gym's door, looking at the team in fear as Tendou smiled, hiding away his feeling and calmed the poor junior.

"Where's she? She's supposed to be here and take care of our needs as her job," Ushijima asked before threw a question to Kenjirou.

"Mm, my sister got her scholarship. So, she left to Germany and bade her farewell around an hour before you came, senior,"

Ushijima cocked his head, feeling both confused and disappointed that he was the last to know about it. Yet, he knew he couldn't blame her for that, as he was the one who always avoided you like a plague.

The pain on his heart was nothing new when it was about you, but watching you left before he could make you smile for once. It made him so angry to himself because he couldn't do anything right to you. At least to repay your efforts as a manager for the team.

Brushing off his thoughts, he told everyone to tell the new manager what she'd need to do before they started a warm up and practice with a local college student afterwards.

Unfortunately, it was already past eleven and soon would be midnight in this empty gym. Yet, Ushijima still couldn't shake you off from his head as he picked a carriage full of ball and practiced by himself, trying to forget pain that he caused by himself.

'Just maybe, but if I'm stronger, maybe I can meet her and tell her how I love her,'

Hoping he could take you into his arms, to tell you how you won over his heart once he could see your face again.

[dickspeightjrs]

Money and Misunderstandings (au / 4k words / lawyer!cas / kindergarten teacher!dean)

Prompt 10 from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ for @destielfactory

ao3 link

Dean pulled at his tie again. He could swear they were designed originally as a way to torture people to death.

Sam turned to see his brother fiddling with the knot. “Dude, stop it. The party has barely started, you can’t take your tie off yet.” He slapped Dean’s hand away. 

Dean grumbled. “Fine. I’ll keep it on. But I ain’t gonna act like I’m happy about it.” 

Sam just rolled his eyes in response.

It was looks like the bitch-face Sam was giving him that made Dean almost regret being proud as hell of his kid brother. 

Sam had just graduated from law school and managed to get an internship at the extremely prestigious Novak & Sons. Dean knew that the company must be a big deal because it had recently been splashed across the news. 

Apparently, the super old guy who owned the law firm had bitten the dust and left the whole thing to one of his sons. Dean couldn’t see the big deal about it all but Sam had been glued to the news the week that it all went down. 

Regardless, Sam was now an intern (though an unpaid one so Dean still helped him out with rent and bills), which meant he got invited to swanky parties thrown by the firm any time they sealed a major deal with another supposedly big deal client. 

Sam might be able to fit in with these snooty bastards, but Dean couldn’t. This wasn’t even a damn party. Just a bunch of rich people standing around chortling at each other and having conversations about the newest yacht they’d bought. 

Dean was interrupted in his grumblings by a guy walking up to him and Sam. 

“Winchester, isn’t it?” The guy asked Sam, obnoxiously. 

Dean bristled. This guy didn’t even know Sam’s name. Douchebag. 

“Yes, sir, it’s Sam.” Sam stuck out his hand for the man to shake. The man accepted, giving it a sharp shake. 

Then he turned his hard gaze to Dean. 

“And who is this?” The man said with a subtle sneer. 

“Oh, this is my brother, Dean Winchester. Dean, this is my boss, Michael Novak.” Sam introduced them. 

Ah! The ultimate douchebag. 

Neither man offered a hand to shake. They’d sussed each other already. 

“And what is it you do Dean?” Because you certainly don’t belong here. 

“I’m a kindergarten teacher.” Dean said, proudly 

Michael’s face soured further (if that was even possible). 

“Don’t they say that teaching kindergarten is like glorified babysitting?” Michael chortled. 

Dean’s eyes narrowed. This guy was already skating on thin fucking ice. And that ice just cracked. 

“Listen here, asshole.” Dean pointed a finger at the suited bastard. He could see Sam cringe and look at the floor next to him. But nothing would stop him now. “My kids are awesome. I’m teaching them to be even more awesome adults when they’re older. I just hope none of them turn into jumped up douchebags like you.”

“Dean!” Sam despaired. 

“Sorry, Sam.” Dean mumbled. But he wasn’t sorry. Not really. He was only sorry that he’d embarrassed his brother. He would never apologise for defending his choice of career. 

Dean chanced a glance at Michael. If the dude was a cartoon, he’d probably have steam coming out of his ears right about now. 

“I’m going to the bar.” Dean murmured, leaving Sam to apologise on his brother’s behalf. 

Dean hoped there wouldn’t be consequences for Sam after his outburst. He just hated it when people looked down on other people for their jobs. Basic respect for others was something he prioritises with his kindergarteners. It was a shame that some adults couldn’t seem to grasp the concept. 

He walked through the crowd of guests like a storm cloud towards the bar. 

Luckily, it seemed most of the attendees were relying on the waiters for their drink orders meaning the bar was empty save for the bartender. Dean slumped onto one of the stools. 

“What’re you after, Brother?” The guy asked as he made his way over to Dean. 

“Whatever isn’t that fancy shit everyone else sees to be having.” 

The bartender, Benny his name tag read, laughed a deep, rich laugh. “I feel that. How’s a good, smooth whiskey sound?”

“Finally, someone talking my language.” Dean smiled. 

Benny passed him over a tumbler of gorgeous brown liquid. 

Dean lifted it in silent cheers and downed it in one go, sucking his lips at the sharp burn it sent down his throat. “Another one where that came from, dude.” Dean slid the glass across the bar top back towards Benny. 

“You sure, Brother?” Benny questioned. 

“Sure as shit. I gotta get through this night somehow.” Dean mumbled. 

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” A voice that wasn’t Benny’s (or Sam’s for that matter) appeared from Dean’s right. 

Dean turned his head to find a dude around his age looking back at him with distinctive blue eyes. 

The guy had on a suit and tie much like that other people in the room. But, the tie was loosened and curled backwards towards the end. His top button was undone and his trenchcoat that blanketed the whole outfit seemed as though it was barely hanging on to his shoulders. 

How come this guy could come dressed like that but Dean couldn't loosen the tie that had been strangling him for two hours already. (The dude looked like he’d just had seven minutes in heaven with someone in the cleaning cupboard for god’s sake!)

Dean was snapped out of his judgement of the guy in front of him by Benny placing a fresh glass of whiskey on the counter. The bartenders gave him a wink and looked slyly over to the trenchcoat guy still standing, leaning against the bar. 

What was Benny trying to say? 

Dean didn’t have long to think it over as the bartender moved away to collect dirty glasses at the other end of the bar, leaving Dean and the trenchcoat guy alone. 

“So,” Trenchcoat Guy continued, perching himself on the seat next to Dean, “what are you doing here if this evening is so torturous to you?” The words were said, not with bitter condescension like Michael might have asked, but, it seemed, with genuine interest. 

Alright, Dean could play ball. Plus, this guy was hot. Dean would be thinking of a flirtatious answer if he wasn’t conscious of embarrassing Sam again by hitting on someone who is probably one of his co-workers.

“I’m here with my brother, Sam.” Dean explained. “He’s just started as an intern here. Wouldn’t kill the bastards to pay him though, he works harder than any kid I know.” 

Dean winced. He has gotta stop insulting the people Sam works with or for. 

“And I take it, this isn’t your usual environment to socialise in?” Trenchcoat Guy enquired. 

Dean huffed a laugh. “You could say that. Turns out I don’t so much enjoy being looked down on for my job, no matter how much I might love my brother.” 

Trenchcoat Guy frowned. “What happened?”

“Some dude called Michael made a dick comment about me being a kindergarten teacher. Told him exactly what I thought about his opinion and embarrassed my brother in the process. So I sought refuge at the bar.” 

Blue eyes darkened. “That’s appalling! I’m sorry that happened.” Trenchcoat Guy placed an earnest but comforting hand on Dean’s. “Being a teacher is incredibly admirable. You’re helping to shape and guide future members of society.” He assured. “There’s nothing more noble than that. Definitely not a lawyer who seems to see the money before the client.” 

Where had this guy come from? He seemed a little weird and dorky but also genuine and caring. 

Dean shrugged off the compliment. Just because he wasn’t okay with people disrespecting his job, didn’t mean he was comfortable being showered with praise and kind words. 

Instead, Dean flagged down Benny and asked for a beer, looking to Trenchcoat Guy to silently ask if he’d like one too. Trenchcoat Guy nodded. 

The two men kept eye contact as they took the first sips of their beers. Dean’s eyes fell to the way the guy’s lips shaped around the lip of the bottle. He flicked his eyes up again to find the guy had seen the movement. He knew exactly what he was doing to Dean, if the way he slowly licked lingering droplets of beer from his bottom lip was anything to go by. 

Any other day, any other time and Dean would have jumped at the chance to, well, jump this guy. But, he wouldn't do that to Sam. 

Instead, he cursed the fates for sending him this awesome guy at exactly the wrong time. Taking another sip of his beer, he moved to get up from his seat. He’d better go find Sam and check he hadn’t ruined his brother’s position in the company. 

He was about to open his mouth to bid the beautiful stranger goodbye when the guy’s eyes left Dean’s and locked onto something over Dean’s shoulder. The blood seemed to drain from his face. Frantic blue eyes snapped back to Dean’s.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Dean asked, confused at the turn this had taken. He could feel his resolve slipping. Sam’s reputation be damned. 

The guy didn’t answer. 

Suddenly, his hand was on Dean’s cheek and he was placing a deep kiss on Dean’s lips. 

Dean had no idea what was going on but his night had improved dramatically in the last three seconds so he definitely wasn’t going to complain. He placed a hand on the guy’s waist, pulling him in closer to his own body. 

After a few heated moments, the guy pulled away. Though Dean kept the hand on his waist so he couldn’t move far. He wasn’t letting him go any time soon, that was for sure. 

“I’m sorry.” Trenchcoat Guy panted, chest rising to gulp down air that he’d been deprived of. “My assbutt of an ex was coming towards us.” He tried to step back out of Dean’s embrace. 

But Dean held his grip firm. 

“No need to apologise, dude.” Dean assured. 

Looking into the guy’s eyes, feeling his moving chest against his own, Dean could feel his will power slipping. 

Screw it. 

Dean pressed his forehead against the other man’s. “Stop me if you don’t want this.” He whispered before he placed his lips over the other man’s.

The kiss was deepened instantly. By who Dean wasn’t sure but at this point, he really didn’t care. 

Dean allowed himself to be manhandled against the bar, never breaking the passionate connection he had with this wonderful stranger. 

As if the guy could read his mind he softened the kiss to whisper briefly against Dean’s lips. “I’m Castiel, by the way.”

Dean’s brain was so preoccupied that he could barely stutter out his own name in return. 

“Hmm.” Castiel hummed against Dean’s lips. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, Dean. But I’d very much like it if you took me home. Right now.” 

They broke apart and Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes. The calm blue from before had been replaced with seductive black. 

Yep. This was definitely happening. 

“Let’s go.” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand to drag him towards the exit. 

But Castiel stopped him. 

“What about your brother?”

Shit. Trust his downstairs brain to throw logic out the window and forget about his brother. 

But he dreaded seeing the look of disappointment on Sam’s face when he told him where he was going. And who with. 

“Don’t worry, Brother.” Benny’s voice spoke up from the bar. “I’ll find him and let know you’ve gone home.” 

Dean shot Benny a grateful look. “Thanks, man.” He tried not to weirded out that Benny had seen what had just gone down. 

He once again grabbed Castiel’s hand and tugged him towards the nearest exit. 

Once outside, Dean hailed a taxi. He would have loved to have shown Castiel his beautiful 67 Impala but he’d had a couple of drinks and there was no way he was going to risk driving home. Plus, even without the drinks, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands to himself long enough to get back to his. 

As soon as they made it through Dean’s front door, he sobered slightly. As respectful and understanding as Castiel had been earlier, he was clearly used to the finer things in life if he was at the firm party. Dean and Sam’s apartment was a far cry from that. 

“It’s not much…” Dean explained. 

Castiel turned from where he’d been doing a quick scan of the main room to lock eyes with Dean. “The only thing I’m concerned with right now is where your bed is.”

Dean could only point towards the corridor leading to his room. 

Castiel gave Dean a dark look and pulled him along by his tie. Maybe ties weren’t so bad after all. 

*  *  *

The next morning, Dean awoke to the feel of bare skin against his own. 

The body on top of his shifted and he could feel a rumble travel up through it. 

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel hummed. 

“Mornin’, Sunshine.” Dean sighed, nuzzling into Castiel’s dark hair and placing a kiss against his temple. 

Dean was about to suggest breakfast when he sensed the stomping moose steps of Sam coming down the corridor outside his room. 

“I don’t care if you’re hungover, I’m shouting at-” Sam stormed into the room. But he was cut off by the sight in front of him.

Dean cringed. Benny obviously hadn’t told Sam everything when they’d left last night. 

“Oh my god! Mr Novak!” Sam snapped himself back to reality. 

Dean turned to look at Castiel. Mr Novak? Was Castiel one of the stuck up sons of bitches sitting on a heck ton of money and not giving any of it to hard working interns like Sam? 

“Hello, Samuel.” Castiel greeted, lifting himself to sit against the headboard. “You can call me Castiel. I feel as though we’ve moved past the normal professional relationship now.” 

“Okay, Castiel.” Sam was clearly still in shock. “I’m just going to leave now.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and then ducked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

Dean turned again to Castiel. “Okay, what just happened?” He asked, completely confused as hell. 

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s. “I’ll explain everything but I think you need to go and make sure your brother is okay.” 

Dean was unsure. He didn’t want to just leave Castiel in his bed alone. 

“Go, Dean. I’ll wait here for you.” Castiel said, sensing Dean’s apprehension. 

“Okay.” Dean submitted, quickly pecking Castiel on the lips before getting up from the bed, throwing on some boxers and leaving the room. 

It wasn't until he was closing the bedroom door behind him that Dean realised he’d just kissed Castiel goodbye like they were boyfriends or something. 

Way to go, Dean. Scare the dude off before anything had properly started. 

Anyway, one problem at a time, he thought as he rounded the corner to find Sam pacing the length of the living room. 

“So…” Dean began, awkwardly. 

“I can’t believe you, Dean.” Sam said, angrily. “Did you not think of my career at all? Of all the people to go home with at that party, you went home with my boss?” 

Hang on..

“Boss?” Dean asked, “I thought that Michael dude was your boss?!” Dean said, confused as hell. 

Sam ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner. “I’m an intern, Dean. Practically everyone in the damn company is my boss. And Castiel? He’s the boss.”

Dean paled. “What?”

Sam sighed. “He runs the whole damn thing! Didn’t you see the news a couple months ago? His dad died and left the whole firm solely to Castiel. It created a big stink because his brothers, including Michael Novak, didn’t get a look in. They’ve been contesting the will for months now.”

Dean slumped onto the couch. He couldn’t believe it. Castiel had lied to him? Well, maybe not lied, just didn’t tell the whole truth. 

Sam saw Dean's mood suddenly turn and frowned. “You really didn’t know?” 

Dean silently shook his head. 

“I’m sure he has his reasons for not saying anything.” Sam tried to reassure his brother. 

Dean waved it off. “Don’t worry about it.” He said. “Yeah, I really like the guy, but once he realises who he shacked up with, he’s not gonna hang around.” He shrugged, accepting the situation for what it was. 

There was no way someone like Castiel, with that amount of wealth and riches, would be interested when he understood that Dean was a grown man who still lived with his little because they couldn’t afford much else right now. 

“Why don’t you let him decide that for himself?” Sam asked, pulling Dean from his negative thoughts. “All I know is, I’ve only met Castiel a handful of times but he’s only one of the Novak brothers that has ever tried to even learn my name.” 

Dean was torn. This was such a big thing for Castiel to neglect to mention. 

“Man, I don’t know. This only started because he was hiding from an ex at the party.” Dean explained. “And now I say it out loud, it sounds like a lie. God, I’m so stupid.” He dropped his head into his hands. 

“Damnit, Dean!” Don’t you ever watch anything on TV other than Doctor Sexy?” 

Huh? Dean shot his brother a confused squint. 

Sam shook his head in exasperation. “Even before their dad dying and the inheritance fiasco, the Novak brothers have always been sort of minor celebrities - comes with the money I guess.” Sam explained. “All I know is that he did have what the media called a ‘messy break up’ with a guy who worked for the company. And he was definitely at the party last night.” 

Dean sighed. He didn’t know what to think. 

“Look, Dean. You clearly like this guy already. He’s literally in your room waiting for you. Go talk to him.” 

Dean nodded and stood up, taking a determined breath. 

Sam gave him a supportive pat on the back. 

Just before he left the room, Dean turned back to his brother. “Are we good?”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, man, we’re good.”

Dean nodded and left. 

When he re-entered his room, Castiel was still sitting in Dean’s bed, picking at a thread in the covers. He looked up at the sound of the door clicking shut. 

“How did it go?” Castiel asked, patting the space next to himself, silently asking Dean to join him again. 

Dean sat on the bed, but he didn’t get back under the covers next to Castiel. He still wasn’t sure what to do. “It’s okay. We smoothed everything out.” Dean nodded. “Found out some stuff about you though.”

Castiel nodded in understanding. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the boss? My brother’s boss?!” Dean asked, pleading for an explanation. 

“I wanted to come up to you. I’d already seen you from across the room earlier and when I finally gathered the courage to come up to you, you were complaining about my party and clearly had no idea who I was.” Castiel explained. 

Dean flushed. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry, Dean.” Castiel reached over to take Dean’s hand in both of his. “It was refreshing. With everything that has been going on recently, it was nice to have a break from that. And then my ex-boyfriend was coming towards us. And, well, you know the rest…” Castiel trailed off. 

“The douchebag who everyone seems to know about except me.” Dean added. “He sounds like a son of a bitch.” 

Castiel hummed in agreement. “That’s an understatement.” He muttered. “I found out Bart was sleeping with someone else a few months ago and I ended it immediately.” Castiel paused at Dean’s whispered ‘bastard’. “However, when my father died, he tried crawling back. He was probably after my new wealth and position in the company. I, of course, rejected him. But, Bart is the kind of person who doesn’t take no for an answer.” 

Dean scowled. He may have only just found out the diner details, but he wouldn’t hesitate to punch that dick in the face if he ever saw him. 

Taking in Castiel’s downtrodden look, Dean sighed. “I understand all of that Cas. But you heard me last night. You run the show and you seem like a decent guy but how can you have hard working interns like Sam and not pay them a cent? While you sit on a literal throne of money?” 

Dean looked down at his lap. He wasn’t sure he was going to like whatever Castiel had to say. 

“Dean,” Castiel lifted Dean’s chin to make the man look at him, “I completely agree with everything you said. That’s one of the reasons my father left everything to me.” Castiel explained. “He knew I had new ideas for the company. He knew it was only a matter of time before he had to hand it over to his sons. So he left it all to me on the sole condition that I go ahead with the changes that I wanted to implement.” 

Dean let out a breath and smiled. Okay, this sounded good. “What, uh, kinda stuff are you changing?” 

“Firstly, we’re going to be taking on a lot more pro bono cases. We are sitting on a throne of money, as you say,” Dean blushed, “and it’s time we actually did something good with it.” 

Dean nodded. Now Castiel mentioned it, he remembered Sam saying something about that when he’d first joined Novak & Sons.

“And,” Castiel continued, “though it hasn’t been announced to the public or even the employees themselves, interns will be getting a competitive rate of pay. You’re right. They do work hard for us and they deserve to be properly credited for it.” 

Dean certainly hadn’t expected that. He’d expected Cas to say that it was out of his hands, or just simply that’s how things worked there. 

“Now, can you please say something? I’m worried I’ve ruined this before it could even begin.” Castiel asked, shyly.

Dean smiled softly. “As long as you don’t mind slumming it with someone like me, I only have one more question.” Castiel nodded. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Dean would give anything to never see that smile leave Cas’ face. 

Instead of answering, Castiel pulled Dean towards him by the shoulder. The smile didn’t leave his face as Dean pressed a long, sweet kiss to his lips. 

“I hope you’re ready,” Castiel said later after they’d parted for breath, “making out with the boss last night would have made quite a spectacle.” 

Dean made a noise of indifference just as Sam shouted from the living room. “Woah, dude! You’re on the news making out with Castiel!” 

“Told you.” Castiel said, triumphantly. 

Dean just laughed and pulled Castiel back in for another deep kiss. 

*  *  * 

They still had a few issues to iron out before they embarked on a relationship, but in the end those issues seemed like small bumps in the road and it was a smooth ride after that. 

Despite his brother’s relationship with the boss, Sam was treated no differently to anyone else. It was important to Castiel to make it clear that any achievements Sam had were entirely down to Sam himself and he had not been handed anything under family privileges. 

And Sam’s hard work paid off. Within a few years, Novak & Sons had another major overhaul and became Winchester & Novak. (Castiel’s brothers had had something to say about, but as he’d been doing for years until that point, he just ignored them.)

Though, it was only a few months after the changes that Dean asked Castiel how pissed off his brothers would be if it was changed again to Winchester & Winchester. Castiel had just laughed and let Dean place the ring on his finger. 

(Turns out, his brothers were extremely pissed off. Oh well.) 

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it Daria! It ended up being longer than I expected but I’m quite happy with how it turned out.

If you liked what you saw, REBLOG! and consider reserving a prompt from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ challenge, or just send me your own prompt you’d like me to fill!

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[degrassi-fanatic]

Happy Father’s Day

Yet-to-be-inflated balloons are strewn across the dining room table, only two or three streamers are hung up so far, and a banner that reads Happy Father’s Day is still inside the plastic packaging he bought it in. All the decorations have been readily ignored and abandoned in favor of a lovingly worn and torn photo album with a cracked spine; the result of being open and closed for many years. 

Sitting at the head of the table, Bobby touches the cover of the album, gently tracing the words: The Nash Family. 

Although it might seem a tad bit morbid and sad to be alone on Father’s Day looking at photographs of his late family, it’s become some sort of a tradition of his ever since they’ve died. 

It used to be far worse, though. He would call in sick for work if he was scheduled that day and drink his body weight in alcohol as he flipped through the pages of the photo album with white knuckles, refusing to let himself forget what he lost. 

Now, it's different. He turns the pages in the photo album with only a deep ache to replace what used to be a sharp sting in his chest. Memories used to only equate to suffering for him but now Bobby looks at all the pictures with a renewed sense of love.

Overtime, Bobby has learned that memory can be a beautiful thing sometimes.

Bobby was alone in the house today as earlier in the day, Michael had taken May and Denny back to his own apartment for their own private Father’s Day celebration before the joint party that was supposed to take place here in the evening. Michael had asked if he wanted to join but Bobby had only politely declined, only half-lying about having to decorate. 

In all honesty, even after all of these years, Father’s Day was still a sensitive subject for him. 

Suddenly, at the sound of a doorbell chiming throughout the house, all of his melancholy thoughts are put on pause.

Setting aside the photo album on the dining table, Bobby pushes himself out of the chair and walks over to the door. He pulls open the door to find Buck standing on the other side with his hands stuff awkwardly in his front pockets. 

“Hey Buck.” he greets pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Bobby.” he says as he darts his eyes to the ground, “I was—um, I was wondering if I could spend the day with you.”

“You do realize what day it is, right?” Bobby asks as he wouldn’t put it past Buck to forget.

He watches as Buck avoids meeting his eyes, only scruffing the toe of his shoe against the ground. 

“My—my dad’s in town and I really don’t want to be around him.” he begins to explain and suddenly Buck’s surprise appearance makes much more sense, “Everyone else is busy; my sister’s with Chimney and Joy, Eddie’s with Christopher, Karen and Hen are using today as a second Mother’s Day, and Michael has Denny and May at his until Athena comes back from her shift.

“So I was hoping I could spend the day with you?” Buck asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

“With me?”

The small smile that was tugging on the corner of Buck’s lips disappears with his words, in its wake is a resigned look. Nodding his head, Buck lowers his gaze to Bobby’s shoulder. 

“Y’know what, it’s fine.” Buck says, “I’ll just go to the mall or something. Sorry to bother you.”

He feels something sink deep inside of him as he watches Buck turn away, heading down towards where his Jeep is parked near the sidewalk. 

Desperate to right whatever wrong thing he must’ve said or did just now, Bobby blurts out, “I could use an extra hand with setting up for the party today.”

In the middle of the concrete pathway, Buck stills. As he turns around to face him, Bobby pushes open the door fully and motions with his head for Buck to make his way inside. Practically skipping, he does so immediately. 

Once he’s inside, he gestures for him to make his way down to the kitchen as Bobby closes and locks up the front door. 

“Thanks for letting me do this.” Buck says as he picks up a string of reflective blue streamers. 

“Helping me decorate?” he teases as he begins to tear open the plastic packaging of the banner. 

“You know what I mean.” Buck responds with an eye roll.

As he does, he catches sight of the tattered photo album near the edge of the table. Suppressing the urge to hide it away where no one could find it, Bobby lets Buck pick it up and search through it. He decides to concentrate on rolling out the Party City banner in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Buck asks.

“It’s just a photo album from my first marriage.”

Right away, Buck closes it before setting it back right where he got it from. 

“Sorry,” he says with guilt laced in his voice, “You probably don’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll always miss them but, it doesn’t hurt to remember them.” he explains.

At Buck’s hesitant, almost wary look, Bobby decides that maybe it’s time this old photo album finally gets some new attention. Picking it up, Bobby searches through the pages until he finally settles on one. 

“Here, this is my son Junior and this is my daughter Brook.”

The picture was the two of them awkwardly linking their arms around each other's shoulders. It was taken at Junior’s middle school graduation ceremony. With a smile, Bobby remembers how much Brook whined when her parents forced her to take a picture with her brother, complaining that Junior didn’t shower enough and smelled like he just came back from hockey practice. 

From his peripheral, he sees Buck shift around until he’s looking at the photograph from over Bobby’s shoulder. 

“What were they like?” Buck asks. 

“Brook loved reading. Her whole bedroom was lined up with bookshelves. Y’know she won this personal essay contest once...” Bobby says, still bragging about his daughter even after how many years have passed since she’s been gone

Old habits are hard to break, huh?

 “Yeah, she won five hundred dollars for it.” he explains, “She was always doing stuff like that.”

“And Junior?”

A chuckle bubbles out of Bobby. 

“Oh God, Junior, he was always getting himself into trouble. But, he was a good kid, he had a good heart.” he remembers.

Kind of like someone else I know.

Pulling his gaze away from where he was looking at Junior’s face, Bobby shifts his attention to Buck. For a second, he takes in just how light his irises are and how blond his hair looks in the light. 

He likes to imagine that this is what Junior would have grown up to look like. 

 “Junior would’ve been a lot like you.” he mumbles, more to himself than Buck.

It takes a few seconds of gears grinding and cogs turning around in his brain before Buck fully processes the depth of his words but when he does, he tilts his head to face Bobby and gives him a shy smile before taking a step backwards. 

“High praise.”

“Yeah well not that high.” Bobby jokes as he closes the photo album, “The kid got himself stuck in a tree that was only four feet above the ground once. And I was the one who was dispatched to get him out of there.”

At the story, Buck starts to double over laughing, clutching at his abdomen as he forces himself to take a breath between every wheeze and snort. Soon, Bobby is following suit; Buck’s laughter is infectious even on a bittersweet day like today. 

For a brief moment as he studies the way Buck throws his head back chuckling, he cannot remember if Buck always sounded like Junior while he was laughing, or if Bobby’s still-grief-ridden mind is having some sort of auditory hallucination. 

“Seriously?” Buck asks as the laughter begins to wane. 

“I never let him live it down.” he answers as he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. 

Placing the photo album back on the table, Bobby decides that they’ve spent enough time on the subject and judging by the clock, they should really get back to decorating if they don’t want Athena to come back home to a complete mess. 

“He must’ve been a lucky kid.” Buck says, as Bobby searches through the mess to find a roll of tape or some thumbtacks. 

“Hmm?”

“To have you as a dad.” he explains as he hands Bobby a cello tape dispenser, “Junior, I mean.”

If Junior was lucky, he would’ve been alive right now. 

“When I wasn’t drunk and or high out of my mind, I did alright.” Bobby responds with a hint of self deprecation. 

“Yeah, well, I think you’re doing a great job right now.”

Before Bobby can open his mouth and ask Buck what exactly he’s referring to, he’s cut off by the blaring sound of Buck’s cellphone ringing in his pocket. He pulls it out with a huff and practically glares at the screen lighting up in front of his face.

He waits for Buck to pick up the call but all he does is mute his cellphone and shove it back into his back pocket. 

At the way he clenches his jaw, Bobby can deduce who it is with little difficulty. 

“Your dad again?” he asks.

His only response is a short nod as he begins to busy himself with preparing some pieces of tape for holding up the banner; harshly ripping them off from the dispenser before attaching them to the edge of the table. 

Suppressing a sigh, Bobby knows he needs to push Buck into doing the right thing, even if it isn’t what either of them want to do. 

As much as Bobby wants Buck around today, not only to ward off all the bad memories associated with today’s holiday but also simply because he enjoys the man’s company, he knows he shouldn’t monopolize his time. 

Buck deserves a father. Though Bobby may downright despise Phillip Buckley, the man had the honour of holding the aforementioned title and that was something he could not compete with. 

Buck already has a father. He may not be a good one, but he was trying.

Even if he is 29 years too late.

“Maybe you should go meet him?” Bobby suggests, “I mean, if I got a second chance to become a father, you deserve a second chance to have one.”

Buck stops ripping off pieces of tape. His hands travel down to the edge of the table and he grips so hard at the wood that Bobby’s afraid there’ll be claw indents once he’s finished. 

Within a second, however, he pushes himself off of the table and he goes to reach into his pocket. 

Bobby barely has enough to take a look at what Buck’s pulled out before it’s already shoved into his hands. Tilting his head down, he sees a semi-wrinkled piece of printer paper that has been folded in half to make a card. On the front, in big and bold handwriting that he recognizes to be Buck’s, he sees the words Happy Father’s Day and a couple of messy drawings of two firefighters scattered across the page. 

“I already do.” he answers, “Do you—um, do you like it?”

“I love it.” Bobby whispers.

He opens up the card to find a long and what he presumes to be a heartfelt message on the inside. At the top, it says, To the best father and at the bottom, Love, Buck.

“Also, um, some of those random hearts and flames are courtesy of Christopher, who helped me make this, by the way.”

#9-1-1 #evan buckley #bobby nash #~fic~

[trashfor-imagines]

My Senpai | 4

Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re Goshiki Tsutomu’s older doting sister, second year at Shiratorizawa and captain of the girl’s track & field team. At your brother’s first practice you sneak in to support him and end up meeting the impressive force that is his captain. Warnings: None really. Mentions sex. Spoilers: We’re encroaching on manga territory. Takes place after Karasuno v Shiratorizawa.

Author’s Note: Sorry for not updating in forever! I lost my original chapter and got discouraged. I started rewatching Ushijima episodes to refresh my grasp on his character.

[1] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [5]

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It was a shock. You never thought Shiratorizawa was capable of losing this year. Ushijima appeared unaffected, but that was just him. It was always mental for him and he had the ability to act with a sort of chivalric grace whenever faced with conflict. God, your boyfriend was really cool. Your brother, however, it broke your heart to see him cry.

After the award ceremony, you raced down to wait by the bus. Ushijima walked out first, his head held high. Noticing you, he simply rested his large hand on your head before getting on the bus. Quiet hello’s and thanks for coming’s were whispered to you. Your little brother could barely make eye contact, the last one to get on the bus. Reaching for his hand, you gave it a squeeze before letting it go and heading for the bus that brought the cheer squad.

The ride felt long. You spent most of it listening to music and playing with the sleeve of Ushijima’s spare team jacket he’d given you shortly after dating. You smiled and chatted occasionally with your fellow students, but the topics of discussion were focused on how Ushijima and the third years were doing. They expected you to have the answers and quite frankly, you thought it was obvious.

Getting back, you made your way into the gym to see the team working on serves. You sat quietly on the sidelines and watched as everyone gave their all, letting out their frustrations from the day. You never knew you could find the slams of volleyballs to be comforting to where they could put you to sleep. Or maybe you were just exhausted. Either way, you woke up from being carried.

“Wakatoshi,” you mumbled, snuggling closer to his chest.

The two of you snuck into your dorm room, stripping down into your underwear and entangling under the sheets. Ushijima’s body was like a radiator, warm and comforting.You ran your fingers through his hair patiently. If he wanted to talk, then he would. Until then, you whispered little praises to him, pressing kisses to his shoulder between sentences.

“I won’t lose again,” he spoke quietly.

Months passed and things continued to go well between the two of you. They were better than ever honestly. During Christmas you visited each other’s families at his request. You didn’t even have to prompt it! Your parents loved him. They thought he was quite the protector type and approved. His mother ended up accepting you once she realized you were intelligent and genuinely loved her son. Your personality had definitely thrown her for a loop.

Graduation was soon approaching and the two of you decided on a five year plan together. Long nights were spent discussing goals and dreams, wondering if they would be compatible with one another. He intended on going pro right after school; the Schweiden Adlers seemed most likely and they were based in Oita. You still had your third year of high school to finish, but you were applying to Kyushu University for architecture. It was in Fukuoka and closer than your other options to Oita. It was just a couple of hours by train or car. You also had plans to stick with track and field and keep your spot on the national team for as long as you could. You both had your eyes on the 2016 Olympics.

For a year the two of you managed to maintain a healthy long distance relationship.

After graduation, there were farewell and congratulatory parties almost every day, but the most fun for you was going apartment hunting, together. It was like a vacation, enjoying the beaches and hot springs. You spent a week staying at his apartment where the lease was ending soon. He said the two of you needed a new place together, that his current apartment wasn’t fitting enough for you. On your third day in Oita, Ushijima decided on the place, a 2 bed and 1.5 bath townhome instead of a one and one apartment. When you told him it was a bit expensive, he said it was perfect because he wanted you to have your own space at home to study for school without being bothered by him. You cried right there and he handled it like a champ. The two of you moved in a week before you started school.

“Wakatoshi!” you called to him from the rooftop terrace. He appeared, sticking his head out from the sliding glass door. You wiped your cheek, smudging dirt across your face. “Can you help me move this bag?”

He slipped on his outdoor shoes and walked over, lifting the bag of dirt and moving it to one of the two raised garden beds that he built earlier today. The two of you had plans for a small vegetable garden. “I thought we were going to plant seeds after lunch. I’m almost done cooking.”

“I know, I just got really excited. I was staring at your beautiful work and couldn’t help myself,” you cooed, giving him starry eyes.

Sighing, he set the bag down where you needed it before taking your hand and dragging you back inside. “We’ll do this after lunch. Together.”

“Aw, are you jealous I tried to start before you?” He didn’t say anything in response, making you grin. “My handsome farmer, I’m so sorry.”

After lunch, the two of you filled the garden beds with dirt and carefully planted seeds for carrots, lettuce, tomatoes, peas, basil, parsley, rosemary, thyme, marigolds, lavender, and scarlet plume celosia. Ushijima had done quite a bit of research on complimentary plants. Hours really. Hours spent doing online research and drawing diagrams of how the garden should be set up for its fullest potential.

You were watering one of the garden beds when you caught a glimpse of Ushijima squatting with a spade in his hand. It was so cute how concentrated he was and how much attention he was giving this simple task. Biting your lip, you sprayed him briefly. He blinked, as if not comprehending what happened and looked up, as if blaming the sky. A muffled laugh escaped you. You went back to watering the garden bed as he went inside. Minutes later you heard the glass door slide open and didn’t pay much mind to it. Suddenly you felt chilled and were thoroughly soaked. Moving your hair from your eyes, you looked up to see your boyfriend holding a bucket over your head.

“Wakatoshi!”

Soon you were off to university, moving into a small dorm room with a single suitcase. Your dorm was littered with photographs of you and Ushijima and it was hard to cope with the fact that you wouldn’t see him through at least the rest of summer, maybe not even until the end of September if your school’s track team did well.

For a month you and Ushijima would call or FaceTime every night and tell each other about your days. He was quite proud of the garden the both of you planted and would send you progress photos and then describe what he saw in fine detail. Honestly, you didn’t realize your boyfriend was capable of being so invested in something other than volleyball. There were a few times you tried spicing up your phone calls, but honestly Ushijima didn’t get it. He was terrible at phone sex. It was fine though. Summer break was.... just a few months away.

It was a Saturday night after track practice when you got a phone call from your boyfriend.

“Wakatoshi! You’re calling early. I haven’t gotten back to my dorm yet,” you spoke, excited to hear from him.

“(Y/N), I’m lost.”

Your brows raised in surprise. “Lost, how? Do you need me to look up how to fix something?”

“No, I’m somewhere on your university’s campus.”

You felt your heart skip and you immediately ran toward main campus. “Okay well tell me what you see.”

In thirty minutes you were in your dorm taking a shower and Ushijima was reading the newest shonen jump he picked up at the train station on your bedroom floor. You came out with your hair in a towel and one of Ushijima’s t-shirts you had stolen. He set aside his magazine and pulled you down into his lap, holding you tight.

“I’m so surprised you came. I’m so happy,” you squealed, burying your face into his neck and running your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you too. I can stay for two days, but then I must go home.”

Pulling back, you let your fingers run over the stubble on his jaw, pouting a bit, “So what do I owe this short visit?”

His stare was intense and a faint blush kissed his cheeks. “I recognize that a few times you’ve tried to... initiate some things on the phone. I admit I’m not very good at it, so hopefully my presence now can make up for my... lack of experience.”

“Wakatoshi,” you breathed out in surprise, gazing at him with so much love. He literally traveled almost three hours because you were horny without him. Pulling the towel from your hair, you knocked him over onto his back as you jumped him.

Visits like these happened sporadically and soon it was fall. Track and field season was over which meant you could make your weekend visits home to Oita. You’d leave Wednesday nights and head back to school on Sunday mornings. Despite the second bedroom serving as a private study for you, you found yourself curling up to Ushijima almost always - as long as he wasn’t busy.

This was life for a couple of years. The two of you had become quite the duo. In fact, throughout your relationship, you had only argued about two things:

You broke your phone once and he wasn’t able to contact you and he freaked out from not knowing what was going on.

He forgot your anniversary and cancelled on your date for volleyball and you laid in on him for it.

Things were great until the 2016 Olympic qualifiers came around. You had broken a metatarsal in your right foot at the first qualifying meet of the 2015 season. You were out for the next eight weeks and even then, you weren’t going to be in shape to qualify because you had to go through physical therapy and get your athletic abilities up to par. Your coach told you that staying on the national team, going pro, and qualifying for 2020 was still possible for you. It didn’t stop the feeling of complete and total devastation that wrecked you and you were jealous.

Ushijima wasn’t sure of how to help you; he’d never seen you so vulnerable before, never seen you so sad, but he did his best to support you, even if that meant being a punching bag. He was consistent, despite things he had going on for his own Olympic goals.

After two months it was summer break. You had to go through physical therapy and you moved back home to Oita, transitioning to online classes for the second term of the year. Because Ushijima’s love language was different from most, you found yourself being forced to do your PT homework exercises, no matter how down and bratty you got.

“Wakatoshi, I don’t want to do stairs,” you groaned, curling up into a ball on the couch.

“You must, or you won’t be ready to start training any time soon,” he replied simply.

Your foot was throbbing and you were on your period, and everything just felt like shit. All you wanted was to watch anime and eat the small bag of chips you had hidden under the blanket you were under. Ushijima had been so strict with your diet and honestly all you wanted were trans fats, sugar, and carbs. With ease, he ripped the blanket from you, exposing you in your underwear clutching a bag of Calbee honey butter flavored potato chips.

“You should get up and walk the stairs now,” he said, prying the bag of chips from your hands, “if you want these back.”

Throwing your legs over the couch, you winced, balling your hands into fists in frustration. You got up, favoring your left foot, which he noticed. He walked up the stairs and sat on the top step, waiting for you to follow. Biting your lip, you moved slowly, trying to ignore the pain. There were 14 steps to the top and you had to go up twice and down twice. You were doing fine until your second trek up the stairs. It was a misstep and you slipped and you were clinging to the stair case, crying. It was embarrassing for you to be like this in front of him. This sweet giant quickly enveloped you in his arms and had you lying on your side of the bed, gently caressing your foot as you sobbed through it.

When you were calm again, Ushijima left for a while before returning, dinner in hand. The two of you sat in bed and had the meal he made in silence. You’d barely eaten, but you waited until he finished before you curled up to his side.

“I’m so sorry, Wakatoshi.”

“I would be surprised it you took this easily. You’re a competitive person. It’s one of the things I find attractive about you,” he replied. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, his fingers gently running up and down along your own arm.

“Really?” you asked, feeling shy. He hummed in affirmation, glancing down to make eye contact. Smiling, you played with the hem of his shirt that was beginning to ride up. “What else do you... find attractive about me?”

“You’re thoughtful, kind. The way you pursue your passions and you’ve encouraged me to pursue my own; you believe in people wholeheartedly.” A thoughtful expression settled on his face as he spoke on effortlessly. He paused and his brows furrowed briefly before settling into a relaxed expression. “You’re beautiful.”

Placing a kiss to your forehead, you watched as he got up and headed to take his evening shower.

While you couldn’t compete, you concentrated on therapy and school and finished your courses early for your degree. You picked up a simple class to stay enrolled until your four years at school were up*, this way you could go back to competing your last year of university. The summer of 2016, Ushijima took you with him to Brazil. Japan didn’t win, but the competition was incredible. You got to meet with track and field athletes and it reignited your passion for competition.

You’d graduate come spring and then your focus was on 2020 Tokyo.

-

*In Japan, early graduation doesn’t exist. It was explained to me that if you attend a 4 year university, you have to be a student for 4 years before graduating, even if you complete your degree early.

tag list: @hihiq​

#Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #shiratorizawa #my senpai #haikyuu!! #haikyu #haikyū!! #reader insert #imagine #fanfic #volleyboys

[hauntingfm]

𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖎𝖕 𝖎𝖘 𝖚𝖕 , 𝖙𝖚𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖘 ?? it me , ur girl ... moe ! i am twenty years old , i prefer she / her pronouns , and i stay being a dumbass in the est . this is my best boy , lot . i hope you all grow to be as fond of him as i am because i am whipped for my baby . i would also just like to take a quick moment to sing my praises for reed & hannah because they have done such a good job at compiling such a god tier group of people to write this story . like , 10/10 best admins in the game . anywho ! pls don’t hesitate to drop into the read more to learn more about LOT KANG !

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

full name : lancelot elijah kang .  age : twenty .  date of birth : november 18 , 1999 .  zodiac : scorpio sun , pisces moon , taurus rising .  gender & pronouns : cismale & he / him ! major : american literature .  year : second year .  romantic orientation : panromantic .  sexual orientation : pansexual .  occupation : sales associate at bookends .  label : the shakespearean tragedy . 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 .

inspiration : nick miller , freddie benson , robbie shapiro & his puppet rex , wes gibbons , that one kid in class who NEVER talks but suddenly offers up an unpopular opinion at the end of the semester & you never hear from him again ,  ricky bowen , and cameron frye . 

aesthetics : half finished mugs of coffee with too much creamer in them , dogeared book pages , a couple handfuls of unanswered texts , barbie bandaids wrapped around bloodied fingers , crying silently in the shower , romantic lines of poetry scribbled on the bottom of a beloved skateboard , longing to wake up from a dreadful nightmare , the tightness in your chest before you have to give a presentation in class , torn denim , rain on the pavement , a backpack full of an assortment of literature from all over the world . 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 . 

so little lancelot kang was born in a tiny little town in florida after his parents moved there from south korea to start on a new adventure . they lowkey hated it but their tiny house became a home to six kangs pretty quickly - mrs . kang gave birth to four little boys !

lancelot HATED his name so he literally forced everyone to call him lot or else ! and for the most part , this demand was respected . unless you were his mother when he was in trouble or his brothers when they wanted to bother him . 

but like , aside from the obvious lack of space in their house & wildly busy schedules , the kangs were pretty happy ! 

( cancer & death tw ) unfortunately , this happiness did not last for long . lot’s mother was diagnosed with cancer pretty late & only had a few months left to live . she told her husband & twelve - year - old lot , thinking that the rest of the boys were too young to understand . so , young lot carried around the knowledge of his mother’s illness , the information feeling like a ticking time bomb strapped to his shoulders . a few months later , mrs . kang passed away , leaving her husband & four young boys . in order to pay for the kids & the hospital bills & funeral costs , mr . kang had to pick up more jobs . this left preteen lot to care for his three little brothers , with no choice but to grow up much quicker than he or his parents would have liked . 

( alcoholism tw ) mr . kang would often come home late after lot had already put all the younger boys to bed . the oldest boy knew to have a drink ready for his father when he got home , but the glass bottles began piling up . the boys’ father would often need the help of alcohol to get to sleep every night because if he didn’t black out from the drinks , he would have dreams about his wife . he couldn’t handle seeing her , even if it was in a dream . lot saw her in his dreams too , but he didn’t have the choice of alcoholic beverages to numb himself at such a young age .

so instead , the boy turned to a dream journal to write about his thoughts & experiences while in his mind . however , this dream journal began to bleed into non - dream journals . these journals were filled with poems , long - winded essays , short stories , sonnets , etc . lot was filled with too many emotions to stay quiet , but the boy had nowhere else to express himself .

lot immersed himself so deeply in his stories & poetry & raising the boys & taking care of his father that university snuck up on him . he graduated high school & had no plan for himself . so , he took a gap year to tie up any loose ends at home & get the youngest  kang into high school before he even considered university . but with the help of financial aid & pushes from all of his brothers , lot decided to attend covington university & major in american literature .

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 & 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 . 

lot is a real hopeless romantic who deeply longs to love & be loved . however , everyone he asks out turns him down or he’s too afraid to even speak to them in the first place .

he’s just such a dirtbag , but a dirtbag with the kindest heart & love for books , poetry , theatre , falling deeply in love , and the like . 

lot is very scared of his twenty first birthday because he doesn’t want to start drinking like his dad & he has been able to use his age as an excuse for why he doesn’t drink without giving anyone information . but once his twenty first birthday hits, that excuse will no longer be available & he is afraid of being pressured into drinking . 

lot gets tired of his own face really easily so he’s always switching up his hair or getting new piercings . 

as u can probably tell, lot is very strongly connected to his dreams whether he likes it or not . the man rarely gets a good night’s rest because he experiences such real shit in his dreams & it feels like information is always being communicated to him somehow in these dreams . part of lot knows that he would be very good at astral projecting, but he’s very scared of the concept . 

bro idk i will be putting up a wcs page real soon . please love me & my son . thank u for reading . hope to talk to all of u soon ! pls like this for me to come bother you on discord about plotting !

#covintro

[dorianpavus]

boy........... therapy rehash / emotional mess beneath the cut

so before i go to therapy i usually take 10 minutes to just like.... introspect, think about my week, think about the themes, think about what i need to talk about, that sort of stuff

and today i was like, ok there’s a couple things i’d like to mention, but it’s been a pretty ok week and i’m not sure what we’re gonna end up talking about. and then i realized that yesterday (when i had worked/run errands/gone to get dinner + drinks with a friend/played ffxiv with my 2 brothers) felt like...... the first Full day i’d had in a long, long, long time.

and that made me start crying in the car while i was driving there, but i wiped away my tears and didn’t get the chance to think much more on it.

and then........ boy.... just. i’m just like. still emotionally reeling.

so at therapy i talked about work for a while, and my shoulder, and then i started talking about this past week in general, and how i’ve been really proud of myself. i Big Girl Cleaned my room, and it feels breatheable now. i’ve hung out with friends twice in 7 days!!! i stopped drinking soda except when i’m out 2 eat, and i’ve cut back on espresso, and i started drinking a lot more water and forcing myself to prioritize myself and prioritize SLEEP (even when i don’t want to) and ....

i’ve been starting to feel like i have a lot more energy, and that’s making my mood increase dramatically. and all those are things i was aware of and they’ve been really encouraging for me.

but then i started talking about my day yesterday. and when i went to tell her that it felt like a full day, i just started crying. and i had no idea why. and i was like “ahh i’m sorry i have no idea why i’m doing this!!!” 

and she was like, no, this is good. whenever clients of mine start crying when they don’t expect to, when they’re talking about something that seems innocuous, i like to sit in that moment, feel it, and think about why that’s coming up.

so we did, and.......... boy. just. what a session lol

i said how good it felt to spend time with my friends and brothers. but not just that, but that... i’ve felt like i’ve been stronger the past two weeks than i have been all year. (oh my god i’m ltierally crying again wt f god)

and that it felt like... i had been offered choices. and i kept getting scared, or tired, and choosing the easy choice. do i want to drive and go hang out with my friends or stay in? do i want to go for a walk or stay in? do i want to do literally anything or continue to do nothing at all?

and i kept not having the energy or strength to make other choices. but the past few weeks, i feel like i have. i feel like, not that it’s been “easy” to make myself do everything, but i’ve done it. and they’ve felt like choices, and i’ve made the right ones finally. and i said, “i feel like i’ve been braver.” 

and she looked at me and was like, you know what? i feel like you have too. and she listed a bunch of stories that i’d told her the past few weeks, and brought up so many instances of my being brave and standing up for myself or others and having hard conversations with my parents and my boss and like... it really sunk in, and i felt brave

and i told her that... well. soooooo i haven’t even talked about it on here (which is funny cause that one ask meme thing was like “tell us a secret” and i didn’t even think to say this, because i have mentioned it before but that was a loooooooong time ago and most ppl i think figured it was uh... resolved....)

but i didn’t technically graduate. well, not technically. i didn’t graduate. i walked in the ceremony, but i had an incomplete from one of my classes, because i couldn’t write my final paper. every time i tried to, i panicked and i felt like dying, and that scared me so i stopped thinking about it. and time passed. and more time passed. and now it’s been a year. 

and it’s a secret that’s been weighing so heavily on me it’s felt like it’s suffocating me. if my parents found out i think they’d kick me out. just thinking about the paper makes my brain go, “uh better kys cause that’s Too Much.” and i hate feeling like that. but i hate that i haven’t graduated too, because it means i can’t apply for jobs because i don’t have a fucking degree!!!!! which is why i’m stuck at home, which only makes me worse!!!! for ONE FUCKING TERM PAPER!!!!

and i kept making progress, like i went from avoiding thinking about it completely since i was a fucking mess to starting to think about it more (which caused my anxiety to skyrocket but was an important step in Dealing With Shit), and every time i thought i was gonna get close to doing something about it (emailing my professor to see if he’ll still accept it, for one) i would get scared. it was like one step forward, two steps back.

like i’d come so close to emailing my professor a few weeks ago... only i didn’t. and my therapist was like, ok, i want you to take time and really think about what it is that you’re so afraid of. what stopped you from emailing him?

and it used to be that the physical act of writing the paper was what scared me. like words wouldn’t come to me. like i was afraid of letting him down/the paper not being good enough/etc. but with time it’s morphed into.... something else, i realized. and it occurred to me that i’m partially afraid of emailing him not only because i’m afraid to write the paper, but more so because i’m terrified of what comes next.

if i graduate.... i’ll have to look for a Serious Job. and maybe i’ll have to move. and maybe it will be horrible. and the whole idea of moving forward into some new vast stage of unknown in my life terrifies me. because what i want to do, what i’ve always wanted to do, was go au pair in france and then teach english there, if i could. that was the Dream Job, and it had been attainable until i had way more student loans than i’d expected and i couldn’t afford it. so now i need to find a decent paying job for a year or two so i can save up and hopefully do what i want.

and it’s that “decent paying job” that scares me. instead of thinking i’m not good enough for my professor now, it feels like i’m not good enough for a Real Job. i have no idea what to expect, i don’t think i’m qualified for literally anything, i just... i feel.......... worthless. and un-hireable. and like whatever path i choose to go down, i’ll be terrible at what i do and... what if it makes me miserable??? (that, as my therapist would say, is Catastrophizing i know i know but it’s something i worry about).

but that felt like a breakthrough. i hadn’t realized i was so afraid of it. i hadn’t realized that what i want more than anything is to be independent and move out and get a better job, but i’m so fucking TERRIFIED of getting a new job. one where i maybe won’t be the smartest kid in the room. one where my bosses don’t sing my praises all day long. that’s so stupid, so stupid, but i’m really scared of it. i feel like i’m inevitably gonna fail because it feels like everyone thinks i’m smarter or more talented than i actually am. i don’t know anything about anything like!!!!!

anyway, that was a big deal. but also..... i feel like... stronger, now. and braver than i’ve been in a really long time. some of my friends knew last year that i’d had an incomplete, but they all thought i had “resolved” that issue. but i told two of them this week that i still hadn’t graduated, and that was humiliating but.... good. and i didn’t think too much of it until my therapist was like “omg!!!!! katie!!!!!! that’s huge!!!!! you’ve been carrying around this secret so heavily i’m so proud of you!!!” and that just made me realize how right she was and i just cried harder. i had been carrying it, and it is a big deal.

and i think i’m going to email my professor tomorrow. not tonight. i’m giving myself tonight to be scared, but i’m setting a time tomorrow to send that email. and take that step forward. and that’s a even bigger deal for me. like, earth-shattering changes-everything kind of big deal.

(i’m like full sobbing now lol)

anyway i was like crying nonstop in therapy today as we talked about things. and how proud she was of me for being so brave, and how happy i was with myself, and how awake i felt, and i was realizing so much about myself and having these Grand Epiphanies 

and i’ve made my therapist tear up before because she genuinely cares which is part of what i love about her, but like, she full-on cried a little with me today and she was like “omg i never cry with clients ahhh” and it was very cute i feel like she is basically me but a therapist lol but it just made me cry more because i was so touched 

and she laughed a little and was like, “this feels like a video game! you know cause we always talk about them. it feels like you’re the heroine of a video game and you’re finally starting to be in the moment”

and god idk that made me cry even more

and like.. it was good crying. it was happy crying. it was crying that was coming from somewhere i didn’t know wanted or needed to cry. it felt like my soul had just been cleansed, like it had showered and washed away grime. like i was an egg that had been cracked open and could breathe

and i feel so light, and clean, and hopeful, and proud, and it’s just a really big deal right now i guess. (still crying)

i feel like i’m on the edge of something. and i wanna take that leap, not into darkness and depression but into... light. that’s what it feels like. and it feels really, really good.

anyway uhhh i’m a mess right now. in a good way. i gots ta go eat dinner and then i think i’m gonna go walk in the park. i used to love the park but i haven’t been in a while, and i’m really feeling a good ole lay down in the grass and listening to music and just let myself cry and feel good.

(also, i had to stop by the tailor right after my therapy appointment to do my second fitting for my bridesmaid alterations and LOL my makeup was super smeared and my eyes were glossy red and my face was all blotchy i could tell the tailor was concerned but she didn’t say anything it was very awkward lol anyway)

i don’t know how to punctuate this post lol. i guess i just wanna say.. 

i feel good today. and that feels really, really, really good.

#personal spam #happy tag #boyyyyyyy it's a doozy