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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

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my absolute favorite person, III

A/N: hi everybody! (i’m going to put my longer a/n at the bottom because i've a lot to say!) i want to thank you all so much for all of the incredibly kind feedback on MAFP, parts one and two. the banter in italics at the end are a flashback to the scene of them at the lake during their sixth year, which you can find in part one. if i may make a suggestion: whilst reading this, listen to “we keep in touch, okay?” from the love, rosie soundtrack to evoke ALL of the emotions. if you’re new here and need the other parts, you can read part one here and part two here, loves x

pairing: george x reader

word count: 2k something

tag list: tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle

other tags: @jenniweaslee @thelittlewritingcorner @siriusblackisme @they-reblog-once-in-a-blue-moon @chaoticgirl04 @mytreec @potterverseimagine @emcchi @godricsswords @tallyovie @msmimimerton @the-shattered-tea-cup @mischi3f-manag3d @quillsareforwriting @imseeinggred @i-am-kenz @verokela @imholeyfred-geddit @bralessandflawless

You were worried that returning to the place where you’d fallen in love all those long years ago would be a painful reminder of everything you’d lost. You were surprised that instead, it brought to you an inordinate feeling of comfort, and of home.

The golden leaves on the trees were reflecting beautifully off of the very still water in the Black Lake. You heard an excited yelp come from the forest -- surely due to Hagrid’s first Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the year. You were certain. You grinned to yourself.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, half expecting to feel the very worn parchment you knew all too well inside. Except, it wasn’t there. You’d lost it somewhere a few months ago. You’d panicked when you’d first noticed, because how could you have misplaced something that was seemingly attached at your hip? It was just another thing you’d lost, another reminder of what you couldn’t have back. Not that it mattered, not really. You’d memorized every word of it. You could recite it in your sleep. Everyone at his engagement party had heard everything on it, anyway. Well, everything except for what was written on the other side.

You’d fallen into a very deep type of misery following his wedding. Following your divorce. You’d ignored George’s constant letters asking you to grab lunch or dinner, to come stop by the shop. You’d pretend to not be at your flat whenever he’d stopped by and knocked on your door; you’d hide behind your curtains or underneath the covers of your bed. You’d begun to pick fights with Fred for no reason at all, except to evoke some emotion other than despondency. You’d wanted to feel anything other than discouragement. You’d yelled at him one day in your flat, If you knew how I felt all those years ago, why didn’t you tell me you knew? Why didn’t you do anything about it? Why didn’t you bloody tell him? And he’d yelled right back, I tried! I tried telling him, Y/N, and I tried telling you, but it was pretty bloody difficult to break the promise you’d forced me to make when we were young, to never reveal the very best of you to anyone. Did you really expect me to betray you like that, even when it came to my own brother?

The arguments were pointless, you’d found, because Fred wasn’t to blame. Neither was George. They weren’t mind-readers, no matter how much you wished they could be. The only person to blame was yourself, and yourself alone. You’d made this awful mess; now you had to live in it.

And yet, even through your brokenness, somehow, you still found yourself going back to to your story at the party -- when you’d said all you could say, you swore there had been a type of glimmer in his eye you’d never seen before. But were you being daft? Was it your eyes and mind playing tricks on you? He was in love with her, not with you. You were just seeing what you’d wanted to see.

There was one particularly horrid day, when you’d hadn’t moved from your bed and it was nearing four p.m.; you weren’t exactly sure what number sleeve of jaffa cakes you were on but you’d certainly eaten enough of them. Your hair was greasily plastered to the side of your face, and you desperately needed to change your socks. Actually, you’d desperately needed to change your entire life.

And so you’d taken up your prior Deputy Headmistresses’ offer, packed your bags, and moved to Scotland. Which is how you ended up here, now, on the Hogwarts grounds near the lake, having just finished your first ever Charms lesson with a rather exuberant class of second years.

The sound of students calling you ‘Professor’ hadn’t really given you the same warm feeling that one of George’s sparkling grins had always given you. But it would do. It would more than do. It was a new beginning, wasn’t it? One you’d never asked for, but didn’t know how much you needed.

And then a crunch of a leaf came, pulling you from your thoughts, and you whirled around, expecting to find a young, measly student skipping out on their lesson, or a fellow Professor coming in to check on you and how your first day had been. Except it was neither of those things. It was him.

His red hair was shorter than it was from the last time you’d seen him; it looked like he’d just gotten it freshly cut. He was clean-shaven with perfect posture. He was dressed in a pair of dark-wash jeans and a grey sweater, one that had most definitely been sewn with love and care by Molly -- it nothing compared to his dragonskin suits. There were slight bags underneath his eyes, and yet, he was still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Years ago, if this had happened, you’d have run into his arms, and he would’ve lifted you completely off of the ground and spun you in circles until you both fell to the ground, dizzy, and laughing. But now, you didn’t even know exactly what to say to him.

He started.

“Hi,”

You had to clear your throat a few times before any words were able to come from your mouth. “Hi,” you echoed him.

He placed his hands inside his pockets and glanced around the grounds, and you noticed a small grin lift his cheeks a bit. “Bloody hell -- Charms professor, eh? Who’d have thought?”

“Who’d have thought,” you echoed him again, carefully choosing every word to escape your lips. There was a considerable amount of distance between you both, and it felt strangely uneasy.

He met your gaze and furrowed his brow, as if to keep himself from crying. His lips were a thin, firm line. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve missed you.”

The truth was, you didn’t know exactly how long it had been. Days had melted into weeks, weeks into months...you’re not entirely sure when the last time you’d spoken to him was. Not for lack of trying on his part, though. You knew this was all your own doing. You felt a sharp twang in your heart at the thought. “I -- I know. I’m sorry. Been really busy, as you can see --”

God, you were so daft. That sounded so bloody pretentious in your own ears, and you shook your head in hopes of erasing your words as they hung in the air between you both. No such luck. He walked toward you now, and stopped a few inches from you. You were certain that your feet were frozen solid into the soil and the leaves of the Earth. You were about to apologize again, when he beat you to it.

“Found something of yours,” he started, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Well, actually, Fred did. Somewhere in his flat. But he gave it to me.” George looked down and pulled from his pocket that piece of parchment you knew all too well, and you were certain your heart had skipped a beat. Maybe two. It looked strangely at home in his hands, as your eyes scanned the words that were engraved in your mind.

He fiddled with it delicately in his fingers, and your breath hitched in your throat as he gently turned the parchment over to the other side, to reveal those other words you’d written, but never, ever dare spoke aloud.

You swore you saw his lip wobble as you sucked in a breath. “Is -- is this how you’ve always felt?”

He handed you the parchment, and you traced your pointer finger gingerly across the words you could hardly see. The words you’d wanted so desperately to say that day, and other times, too, but couldn’t. Shouldn’t. But even so, you could still make them out, faded as they were:

I truly love you.

How utterly and painfully embarrassing. Here you were, life still somewhat in shambles, divorced, patching together the broken pieces of your mistakes, confronted by the man you’d been in love with for years about your own feelings you’d bloody written down on a bit of scrap parchment, and all you could bring yourself to do was trace your fingers over the words. You couldn’t even look at him. Ridiculous. But you shut your eyes tight, gritted your teeth, then looked up into his light brown eyes, and nodded.

You seemed to have lost your voice; but it was no matter, because George was fiddling with something else in his pocket. “Can’t believe you’ve kept it all this time,” he said, more-so to himself than to you, and he laughed lightly. He shook his head slowly, and then pulled out another bit of parchment. It was a bit yellowed, and more faded than yours, but he held it out to you. “I’ve kept mine, too.”

Of course. The speech he’d written for your wedding. An involuntary laugh escaped you, for you were immediately brought back to exactly that night, when he’d stood up and told one of the most embarrassing stories of your entire life, drunk on whiskey and friendship and fondness.

You chuckled lightly to yourself and sniffled a bit. “I remember,” you said softly, running your fingers across his handwriting. “How could I possibly forget when my best mate had embarrassed me in front of my entire family?”

A bright smile split your face for the first time in.. you didn’t even know how long, but when you looked up into George’s eyes, he wasn’t sharing that same brightness in his own grin. His was soft, and tired, and tears were glistening, glazing over his eyes. He took a deep breath and stood -- patient -- waiting for you to realize. He glanced down toward the parchment, and back up at you.

Something came over you in that moment; something from the look in his eye told you there was more you needed to know. And so you gingerly turned the delicate piece of parchment over in your hands, half expecting to see the same four words you’d written on your own, and half expecting to see nothing at all. What you didn’t expect, though, were the four words he’d written down:

Will you marry me?

Your heart stopped. You couldn’t feel your toes. Your tears froze in place and you looked quickly from the parchment to him, and back again. The ink was so beyond faded, so it’s not like he’d just scratched it down. Had he really written it down all that time ago? Had that truly been what he’d wanted to say to you before your own wedding? What he’d wanted to ask?

He took your hands in his then, your lip quivering more than you would have liked. His voice was a bit wobbly as he spoke, “It was true then,” he breathed, interlacing his fingers with yours, “and it’s true now. How I feel, I mean. And the question, I -- I wanted to ask you, after we’d finished school, even though we hadn’t ever really..” his voice drifted off, and he was swallowing down his own vulnerability. He took another deep breath before continuing, “And then the war happened and life got in the way and other people came and went and.. time got away from us, I’m afraid.”

And then he gingerly got down on one knee, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him kneeling in front of you, with his bright red hair and freckled nose and boyish charm that would never, ever fade. You noticed the tears in his eyes as he traced small circles onto your hands with his thumbs. “I shouldn’t have let you go that first time, and I’ll be damned if I let myself do it again,” you both began to laugh a bit, and you noticed his bare finger, void of his own wedding ring. You couldn’t believe this, you couldn’t possibly believe it. His voice was so beautifully broken and soft, “Marry me, and I promise to always bother you, always embarrass you, and to only ever help you with your work if you truly need it.”

A hearty laugh broke through your tears, and somehow you managed to say yes, and he placed a sparkling ring on your finger. And when, for the first time in all these years, his lips touched yours, it was a perfect piano piece resolving it’s melody, it was the quintessential blend of colours in a rainbow after a rainstorm, it was the incredibly nerve-wracking and freeing feeling of flying on a broomstick for the very first time and absolutely everything in between; there was nothing in this entire world that felt better, or more needed, or more right than the feeling of his lips moving slowly against yours.

You both parted, but you found it incredibly difficult to remove your hands from him. The colours of the leaves reflecting off of the water transported you back immediately to that day during your sixth year, when you’d realized how you felt..

“And to think,” you began to tease, sniffling slightly and pulling gently on the sleeves of his sweater, “all these years later, and somehow I still let myself hang around with the likes of you.”

He threw his head back in a laugh. He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly and said, “It’s because you love me.” He peered into your eyes now, and again around at the gorgeous autumnal grounds of Hogwarts, and shook his head. “I couldn’t live my life without you, no matter how bloody long it took us both,” he placed a piece of hair behind your ear before pressing his forehead gently to yours. He breathed, “I never stopped loving you,” and closed the gap between you both once again.

“Hey, George?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you always go around bothering people and distracting them from the work they’ve got to complete?”

“Almost exclusively.”

“Then promise me something.”

“For my absolute favorite person? Anything.”

“Promise to always bother me, for the rest of our lives. Take me away from my work and my thoughts and tell me stories and jokes like you did that night at the Yule Ball a few months ago, and make me laugh for as long as you’ll have me. Okay? Promise me.”

“Okay, darling. I promise.”

-- -

A/N (cont’d): aayyyyy my peeps! so idk how y’all feel but i like to imagine that after the ending, she and george stay at the lake, reminisce over all of their memories together, laughing and joking about all of these moments how many times the stars just hadn’t aligned for them both.

thanks again for reading, guys! i hope you feel completed and whole by the ending like i do. i didn’t realize just how much i was going to put into this -- i really came up with the idea on a whim and didn’t really expect to make it so emotional or even make it three parts, but hearing your incredibly kind words and responses to each part of this mini series has reminded me of why i ADORE writing for this fandom. I ADORE IT.

anywhoooo, please leave feedback, comments, reblog and share with your friends if you enjoy, and i'll be sure to link all of the pieces together :) thanks so much! x

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins fanfic #weasley twins fanfiction #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms · 4 years

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Back Home || Fairy Tail ||

Laxus has to go help his family and friends on Tenrou Island but that means leaving you alone. Reluctantly you let him go while he sends you to Fairy Tail, where you can stay until he comes back. Fairy Tail welcomes you with open arms and you wait for Laxus there. You wait for a long time, and then the news of Tenrou comes, leaving you completely devastated and hopeless. You don’t think you’ll ever see Laxus again and then seven years pass.

Pairing: Laxus Dreyar x Reader

Warnings: uhh hopelessness?

Words: 1.5K

A/N: so this was inspired by a Laxus fic I'm currently working on but I wrote this first as like a beginner snippet and now I wanted to post it somewhere for feedback lmao. Also this is the only thing I’ve been able to manage to put into words... So, hopefully this triggers a writing spurge and I start cranking out more material.

“Do you really have to go?” You asked, voice soft.

“I do, I may not be a part of the guild anymore but they’re still my family,” He told you sincerely.

You wanted to cry and beg him not to go but he had to, he had to help his family. So, instead you nodded and held back tears, telling him to go before it was too late. He smiled softly and rested a hand on your hand, ruffling it lightly. He told you not to cry, he wasn’t going to leave you with nothing, he’d make sure you’d have somewhere to go. He gave you a map with directions to the guild he once called home, telling you they’d take care of you there; at least until he got back. You nodded and wiped away the few tears that managed to escape, if he trusted them so much then you did too.

You leaned in and gave him a hug, telling him to stay safe and to come back to you in one piece. He gave you a grin and nod before he was gone in flash, the only thing left in his wake was a scorch mark made by his lightning. You smiled at the place he once stood before turning and making your way to the guild he told you about, never once thinking that that’d be the last time you’d see him.

You had managed to get to the guild, they had been kind enough to accept you. You had told them that a friend has sent you there, that he said you’d be safe there. He was right, during your stay they had been nothing but kind and protective, especially during the time that the strongest members of their guild had left.

You waited there for days, each day that passed, your heart worried more for Laxus’s safe returned. And then came the news, the fall of Tenrou Island and it shattered your heart. He was gone, Laxus was gone, they had lost whatever battle they had.

It was quiet that day in the guild as everyone mourned the loss of their friends, and that silenced followed for days after that. Search parties that been sent out to try and find any of the members that had been sent out but there was no luck. They were all gone, the entire island had sunk into the ocean with them still on it. Fairy Tail was never the same after that, you were never the same, even after you decided to stay at the guild.

You walked into the guild, just back from a job but already ready to take another one. Your guild members greeted your warmly, the ones that remained at least. You said nothing in return as you walked over to Macao, handing him part of the wages that you earned from the job. You didn’t say anything to him, simply walking over to the board for another job.

“Going on another job already? Maybe you should take a break, {Name},” Macao said.

“The guild can’t afford that,” You simply replied.

You grabbed your next job before turning away from the board and looking back at the few members staring at you. You walked back over to Macao and set the sheet right in front of him, showing him the next job, you were going on.

“The guild can afford a day without you working, ya know,” He said.

“Maybe… but I can’t,” You whispered that last part, your heart clenching just a bit. “I’ll be back soon enough.”

You turned on your heel once more and started walking towards the door. “Blue Pegasus say they might have found something.” You heard Wakaba say, making you stop.

Hope wanted to flood your entire being but you didn’t let, you couldn’t, not when you were finally starting to move on. It's been seven years already, if they didn’t find them then, they wouldn’t find them now. As much as it hurt you, you had to accept that Laxus was gone, he was never coming back no matter how much you wanted it.

You continued walking, choosing to ignore what Wakaba had said in order to keep going. The two older men sighed heavily as they watched you leave. They knew how hard this was for you, you had lost the only person who had shown you kindness when you were all alone. Yes, they knew that Laxus had been the one to send you their way and that he had joined the others at the island. You had told them when you realized that he wasn’t coming back and that you were alone once again. But you weren’t, they made sure you wouldn’t be when they made you a Fairy Tail member.

After that, you took on job after job as a way to distract yourself from the reality of him being gone. It was because of this that the guild was barely scrapping by with their payments. Although everyone was grateful that you were providing for the guild, they still very much worried about your well-being. They worried that all the stress of taking on jobs would affect your health. They already lost so many members of the guild, they couldn’t afford to lose another.

But you never listened, it was more painful to take a break than the job load you took on. And they couldn’t really stop you from taking on all these jobs, not unless they tied you down.

A few days passed and you were on your way back to the guild, back from another successful job. It was an easy job like always, nowadays the only jobs Fairy Tail ever really got were the ones no one else wanted. You didn’t really care, just as long as they gave you something to do.

You reached the guild doors and gently pushed the door open, your presence noting your arrival. You expected the usual small greeting from your guild members but it didn’t come. Instead you were greeted by loud voices and a livelier guild hall than the one you left. You glanced around and noticed how it was more full than usual, full of unfamiliar faces.

“{Name}! You’re back just in time!” Macao cheered.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“We did it, {Name}-Nee, we found the others,” Romeo told you.

They…found the others? You spotted blond hair, hope quick to fill you as you laid eyes on the person you missed the most. He was sitting with a scowl on his face looking exactly like he did seven years ago. This couldn’t be, he was gone, he had been gone for seven years. But here he was, sitting and pretending he wasn’t enjoying the celebration in their honor.

“Laxus!” You uttered before beginning your sprint over to him.

You jumped into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your head in his chest. You were quick to gain his attention and everyone else. You were certainly new, no one had ever seen you before so you must’ve joined the guild during those seven years.

“Hey, just want do you think you’re doing?” His voice rang out.

You pulled away, a pang hitting your heart as you realized he didn’t remember you. “Y-You don’t recognize me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied your form, was he supposed to know who you are? You didn’t blame him for not recognizing you, you weren’t the same 15-year-old from when you first met. You had grown a lot, you’d gotten a bit taller, your figure had changed and matured in many aspects. You weren’t a kid anymore; you were a young woman now who was forced to grow a lot these past seven years. But a lot had remained the same, like your soft doe-like {eye color} eyes and your gentle smile.

“{Name}?” Laxus uttered softly.

You nodded slowly in confirmation, happiness filling your entire being that he was sitting right in front of you. You were pulled into another hug, this time initiated by the blond himself, squeezing you tightly. He was so happy that you had made your way to Fairy Tail, that you had been kept safe for the past seven years. You couldn’t help but let tears of joy slip past your eyes as you were finally reunited with Laxus.

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sapphicambitions · 5 years

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So I emailed the SYFY Feedback account. This is what I said. I’ll let y’all know if they respond.

To Whom it May Concern,

I'm writing concerning the Magicians finale which aired last night, April 17th. While the finale may have been beautifully acted and filmed, there are many real concerns that the fans have that were brought on by this episode. Many of us fear that these concerns are going to be overlooked or written off by the network, furthering the betrayal. I'm not sure who reads these feedback emails, but if it is at all possible to get it passed along to the right people, it would make a huge difference.

The death of Quentin Coldwater was unnecessary and cruel. This is a character that has clinical depression and has been hospitalized multiple times for suicide attempts. One of Quentin's major character arcs is that he is in a better place now than he was before he discovered magic, and that he had to do that for himself. For fans facing their own mental illness and struggles, he was a beacon of light and a chance to see themselves on screen. Quentin was not special. His discipline was minor mendings. He was not a high king in his blood, he was barely the hero of the story. But he was the hero of his own story. And for fans, this was important. That even though they might not be "special" they could still live to fight another day. That they could find the courage to keep fighting. So many fans identified with Quentin. He was their reminder that if he could keep fighting and living, so could they. This is extremely important to people who are suicidal. It is not something to take lightly, as literal lives are at stake.

There is a problem in the action adventure / science fiction genre with using the heroic self sacrifice as an excuse for suicidal tendencies. It is a harmful trope, but when you place that trope on a character who is clinically depressed and suicidal, it is devastating. And Quentin Coldwater's suicide has devastated the fandom. If you were to go onto tumblr.com and go through the Magicians tags, you would see that the episode was incredibly triggering for the fans with mental illnesses. Because our hero who kept living to fight another day killed himself. The episode poorly addressed this when Quentin and Penny 40 were discussing this in the Underworld, and there was no specific conclusion. Suicide is never heroic in any context. Portraying suicide as heroic is dangerous.

Further, there was no reason for Quentin to die. In an interview with Sera Gamble, she discusses the choice in a way that is grotesque. She calls it an artistic choice and a "full complete circle of Quentin's storyline." Do you have any idea how harmful that is for suicidal viewers? To tell them that the only end of their story has to be their death? To tell them that their efforts of saving themselves are pointless? Quentin's death was tragedy for the sake of being tragic and shock value. This is damaging to fans who saw Quentin as a way to keep fighting.

Additionally, the idea that Quentin's death was heroic or okay because all of his friends were able to love him and be okay, so that Quentin could find peace in death? That is the most catastrophic idea to come from this finale. John McNamara said in the same interview that he didn't want to write pro-suicide television but that is EXACTLY what they did. If they cannot understand why telling suicidal people that they will be able to find peace in death is dangerous and damaging, I can't begin to tell them how to care about people. Quentin's death was cruel and thoughtless. There's more that Sera and John say in the article but honestly I cannot stomach any more of it. Here's a link to the article I've mentioned:https://www.vulture.com/2019/04/the-magicians-finale-death.html The death of Quentin is not just important because of Quentin's mental illness, but because of Quentin's queerness. It cannot be denied anymore that Quentin Coldwater is queer. Following 3x05 and 4x05 especially, but from the word of the actor himself. Jason Ralph stated at comic con this past year that Quentin's queerness is the only thing he's not anxious about, and spent the entire con calling Q & Eliot soulmates and lifetime loves. The marketing department for the Magicians has released fan videos and egged on the queer viewers, encouraging them to watch for the representation. Quentin's entire motivation this entire season has been to get back to Eliot. And then in the last three episodes this build up was completely discarded.

Quentin and Alice get back together after both of them moving on with their own story lines and the fans agree that it doesn't make sense. The reunion of Qualice feels like it was essentially set up so that the writers had an excuse to not acknowledge Queliot in the finale. Because they didn't. Quentin has spent the entire season trying to save Eliot and then we don't get to see him reunite with Eliot. Even if one were to ignore anything Queliot, they have been best friends for the last four seasons and narratively it doesn't make sense. The fans feel as though it was a purely homophobic move and are hurt. The build up and then casting aside of a queer narrative is hurtful to queer audiences.

Queer audiences get such little scraps from shows as it is that the Magicians was a breath of fresh air and the chance to see our stories played out on screen. The chance for them to receive an equal narrative weight and taken seriously. Because the show, in the end, didn't follow through with Queliot, the queer fans feel baited. Queer baiting is a gross tactic to gain viewers and many queer fans are devastated for their trust to be betrayed in such a way. And this was a betrayal to queer audiences. Make no mistake, many queer fans will not be returning to see the show's fifth season.

Frankly, the Magicians has never had great queer representation. Eliot Waugh is really the only confirmed queer character and his storyline falls right into the unhappy gay man trope. In the first season, he has to kill off his fake boyfriend. In the second season, he's married off to a woman and essentially forbidden from sleeping with men. In the third season, we have A Life in the Day, which is then not acknowledged again for an entire season. Every other "queer rep" is literally a joke or not followed through. The amount of homophobia that runs through the show is a disappointment to fans who have identified with the queer characters. Sera Gamble and the other Magicians writers have made it perfectly clear how they feel about queer people and their storylines. This has been noted by the fans.

Further, the confirmation of Quentin's queerness and then his execution falls right into the Bury Your Gays trope. It falls right into the Hays Code and the idea that in order for queer people to exist on screen, there has to be negative consequences for being gay. Is this the kind of network SYFY wants to run? One that refuses to allow members of the LGBTQ community to be happy or to simply exist? Because by backing the choices the Magicians have made concerning their queer characters, that is what they have done. A large portion of the fantasy audience is queer people and yet we are continuously excluded from narrative, or included only to be killed off.

This is also dangerous for viewers. According to the Trevor Project (https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/preventing-suicide/facts-about-suicide/#sm.0001fud2yh6a9ctju2r22bg7t0dyo) queer youth are five times as likely to attempt suicide than heterosexual youth. It is practically an epidemic in the community, the taking of their lives because they aren't given space to exist in the world. And yet the Magicians just allowed their queer main character to kill himself. This has devastated the viewers who identified with Quentin for his mental illnesses but also his queerness.

Sea Gamble and her team of writers can say that "not even the white man is safe" and claim that Quentin's death is "ground breaking" but this is not the case when the character is suicidal and queer. A mentally ill queer person killing themself isn't ground breaking, it's a devastating reality that too many face and capitalizing on that trauma for the sake of shock value is disgusting and frankly, unforgivable. No matter what the writer's intentions might have been are irrelevant, this is the message they have sent out to their audiences.

The fans have real concerns about this and if their concerns are going to be acknowledged at all. There's a fear that we will be written off as complaining about shipping or not getting our way, when in reality it runs so much deeper. The Magicians writers broke the trust and spirits of their audiences, and the betrayal will effect ratings and viewer numbers. Is the network going to acknowledge these concerns and the damage done to their audiences? This is a much bigger deal than just some upset fans. This was a catastrophic blow and a slap to the face to an already marginalized audience.

Please understand that even though there is anger in my tone and in my heart, this is also coming from a place of love. The Magicians has deeply affected my life and changed me as a person, which is why this betrayal hurts so deeply. Many other fans feel the same way, and many of us are not returning to the fifth season. I cannot speak for the entire fan base, but some recognition and acknowledgement or damage control (and even an apology) would make the world of a difference for an entire fandom that was just stabbed in the back and shaken to their core. Ignoring this problem will only cause a drop in ratings and numbers and be a blow to the network itself.

Thank you for taking the time to read these concerns.

#lesbianlaynie #the magicians #queliot #quentin coldwater #eliot waugh #tm cast #the magicians finale #the magicians spoilers #it's not my best argumentative essay but its something #long post #suicide tw #tw suicide

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imagineteamfreewill · 5 years

Text

The Argument For Soulmates

Title: The Argument For Soulmates

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count: 5,020

Warnings: Some general angst, light swearing, mentions of people being auctioned off

Square Filled: Soulmate AU

Summary: Sam, Dean, Cas, and the reader discover how Rowena infiltrated the bunker. Sam and the reader spend more time together.

A/N: This is part eleven of the The Switch series! It is also a submission for the 2019 SPN Fluff Bingo (@spnfluffbingo2019)! It starts out with a little bit of Dean’s perspective for those of you who have been waiting so patiently for more background information about the Switch itself. Things are starting to get better, I promise! Please leave feedback, and enjoy!

The Switch Series Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

_______________

If anyone had asked him, Dean would’ve said that Y/N was the best damn thing to happen to them since the Switch. Hell, she was the best thing to happen to Sam in his entire life. Nothing held a candle to the way that she made him smile and laugh, even though his little brother couldn’t see it for himself. Sam had been a mess after he’d kicked her out, but no amount of convincing on Dean’s part would get him to call her back. Not that they’d had her phone number, anyway. Cas hadn’t even told him and Sam that he’d given her a cell phone before she’d left.

After making sure that Sam was able to keep an eye on Y/N after the incident in the bathroom, Dean went to investigate the shower stalls. There were no hex bags and nothing out of the ordinary, which meant that either something had gotten past the warding or that Rowena had done something to Y/N without her noticing.

Either way, there wasn’t much he could do to protect Y/N if things could get past the warding, and the sinking feeling in his stomach told him that if something could get in to hurt her, they could get in to hurt Sam. Dean hated the helpless feeling that settled in his core when he thought about what could happen.

He slammed his hand against the wall, cursing and ignoring the pain that coursed up his arm and stung his palm. He had to protect Sam. He may not remember ever making that promise as a kid, but he knew that he had and he held onto that.

“Dean?” Cas was standing in the bathroom doorway, his forehead creased with concern.

“Yeah?” Dean asked. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand back to his side, straightening up and trying to get Cas onto a new topic before he could ask any questions. The last thing he wanted to talk about right now was his emotional state. “You find something?”

Cas shook his head, still eyeing his friend. “No. Are you okay?”

“No,” Dean sighed after a second. “But I’ll be okay after we figure out what the hell is going on with Y/N and Rowena. The sooner we can stop her the better.” He looked around the room and ran a hand through his hair. “I should check the warding on the bunker and see if anything’s been broken or changed.”

“I can do it, Dean. You’ve been up for two days now—you need to sleep.”

“I’m fine, Cas.”

“Dean.” Castiel’s voice was full of warning and after a long moment, Dean relented. He knew Cas was right and he had to admit, he was exhausted. He’d been growing tired more easily than normal lately.

“Wake me up if you find anything,” Dean ordered, and Cas quietly agreed as he stepped out of the doorway, allowing Dean into the hallway.

Dean felt Cas’ eyes on him as he walked down the hall, passing by his bedroom without a word. He knew Cas was aware that he hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and he wondered if the angel had been doing anything to help him sleep, or if he’d been at least trying. The nightmares hadn’t been as bad lately, but the good dreams had been few and far between as well.

Not that there’s much to dream about, Dean thought bitterly.

He tugged the door to the garage open and took the two steps up into the room. It was pitch black but Dean knew exactly where to walk to get to the Impala. He could get into the car in his sleep and, quite frankly, he was pretty sure he’d done just that a few days ago. After waking up from a deep sleep in the front seat of the car, Dean had been sleeping in the garage ever since. It had been the best sleep he’d had since the Switch, despite the fact that he’d been worried sick about Y/N.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he sighed as he crawled inside, closing the door behind himself and getting comfortable. The blanket he’d pulled up from the backseat was still on the floor where he’d left it two days ago and Dean shifted, reaching down with one hand to pull it up over himself. The balled-up jacket was still smashed against the passenger-side door, too. It wasn’t too hard to get it positioned the way it had been the other day and Dean quickly found himself relaxing against the familiar leather interior of the car.

The garage was silent as Dean stared up at the Impala’s ceiling, wracking his brain for memories like he always did. Sometimes he could catch a snippet of something, but it was always gone before he could grab ahold of it. Fuller memories were rare, and often he had a hard time determining if they were just the stories that Sam had told him about their childhood, something he’d read in one of Chuck’s books, or if he was really, truly remembering something.

“You remember everything for me, don’t you, sweetheart?” Dean murmured, the question going unanswered as his eyes roved over the Impala’s interior.

Shortly after the spell had finished and he and Sam had woken up, they’d gone out to the car to see the after effects of their work. It wasn’t until then Dean had realized what had happened. He’d slid into the car, put the key in the ignition and turned it, and then stopped short. He hadn’t remembered how to drive. Sure, he could picture himself driving and he knew that he could, but every single memory, every single filed-away driving lesson and experience in his head was wiped clean. Sam had had to drive, and Dean had hated every minute of it. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t cried a few angry tears later that night.

Sam had taken Dean out to the Impala a week later and explained the history of it to him. He’d shown him the green army man, the initials carved into the car, and let him hear the Legos rattling around inside. Sam had even patiently explained every single accident the car had been in, at least until he got to the ones that Dean remembered. Just by using those memories alone, along with a few other mile-markers they threw back and forth, it didn’t take them long to figure out that it was only the twenty years of memories that had gone missing. Dean hadn’t been sure if “only twenty years” was a good thing or a bad thing, considering their line of work.

Closing his eyes, Dean crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “We’ll get ‘em back somehow.”

Sleep came quickly, and Dean dreamed of nothing more than flashes of color and the sound of Sam’s voice complaining about how they’d be late for school if Dean didn’t get out of bed. The smell of mold in a stale room, the feeling of bitter winter cold seeping in through a door, the sound of a heater rattling late at night—Dean filtered through all of these, searching for something solid, something he could take with him to the waking world, but nothing stuck. Everything slipped through his fingers until finally, he woke with a start, eyes wide and heart racing in his chest.

“Dean?”

Dean blinked sleepily and lifted his head to stare at the angel through the car window. Yeah?” he grumbled, sitting up and letting one leg slide off the edge of the seat. “I’m awake. You find something?”

Cas nodded and Dean nodded back at him, rubbing at his face. He sat in the quiet of the Impala for a long moment, letting Cas head back into the bunker alone. The scraps of memories in his sleep were long gone and he sighed as he climbed out of the car. It was better to get up and move on than to dwell on something he’d probably never get back, no matter how much he hoped.

______________

“I friggin’ hate witches,” Dean grumbled an hour later. He’d only been sitting for a moment, but soon he was getting up from his seat and pacing along the length of the table again.

You watched him from your chair on the other side, a mug of tea nestled between your hands and one of Sam’s flannels draped over your shoulders. Dean looked exhausted and you wondered if he’d slept at all.

“At least we know what happened,” you offered, trying to sound optimistic though you really weren’t. “Now that we know what it is, we can fight back.”

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair before sitting down in the seat next to yours. He gave you a small, worn-down smile when you glanced over at him.

“Y/N’s right. Now that we know that Rowena’s somehow able to get past the warding and that’s she’s had witches keeping an eye on us ever since the start of all this, we’ve got a leg up. This is good, you guys,” Sam insisted. He rested his hands on the table and you reached over without much thought, wiggling your hand underneath his so that you could lace your fingers together. Surprised, he raised his eyebrows and gave you a quick double take. You only smiled in response and after a moment he relaxed into it, squeezing your hand.

Unbeknownst to you and Sam, his brother and Castiel exchanged a knowing look. The two of you had initially fought tooth and nail against the concept of being soulmates, yet now you were acting like any other couple.

“So what’s the plan?” you asked, and everyone in the room straightened up to try and focus once more on the problem at hand.

Without a word, Cas walked away from the table and you frowned at him, glancing over at Sam. He shook his head, just as confused as you.

“Cas?” Dean asked. “What are you doing?”

“I have an idea,” he replied. You, Sam, and Dean all looked at each other, but before any of you could question him any further, Cas continued, “Rowena’s been keeping tabs on all of us because she knows the location of the bunker, and because she’s already gotten through the warding once before, it will be easier for her to do it again. She already has all the information about the location and the warding, which simplifies the effort she has to put forth.”

Sam nodded. “Like a phone. It’s like she’s got our contact info already plugged in and now it’s less work get ahold of us.”

“Exactly,” Cas told him.

“So… new phone, who dis?” You grinned at your reference, but all their expressions became confused and you sighed, setting your mug down. “It’s a— Nevermind. Correct me if I’m wrong, but basically what you’re saying is that we need to change the wardings and find a way to change magically change location of the bunker?”

Cas’ face was solemn as he nodded in response and brought over a yellow-edged, aged book from one of the shelves. He set it on the table and shifted it so that the three of you could see the faded writing on the pages. After a moment you realized that it was a ledger filled with street addresses, coordinates, and brief descriptions of the places listed. Each one seemed to be some kind of safehouse, though you knew that if the rest of the Men of Letters’ hideouts were like the bunker, their safe houses were nothing like the ones you’d experienced in your time as a hunter.

“The Men of Letters had plenty of refuges all around the United States. If we can’t find a way to conceal ourselves here, we can move elsewhere,” Cas said.

“We’d have to leave the bunker for that,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not risking that. This is home, Cas.”

“Maybe,” Sam interjected. He ran a hand through his hair and then gestured to the ledger on the table, letting go of your hand to pull it closer so that he could get a better look at the neat letters lining the page. “But if moving is what’s gonna keep us safe in the long run… Dean, I’d rather give up the bunker. It’s not like we have anywhere else to go. The Men of Letters were pretty prepared for this kind of thing.”

“On the other hand… Rowena wants Sam out of here.” You sat forward in your chair and Dean glanced over at you, worried. “She told me to get him outside before midnight in two days,” you explained.

“Or?”

You looked over at Sam, confused. “Or what?”

“You have to get me outside before midnight in two days or what? What’s she gonna do if I don’t leave the bunker?”

Not wanting to tell them what the real answer to Sam’s question was, you shrugged and looked over at Cas to buy yourself a second of time. He was peering at you with the same look he’d had in his eye when he’d confronted you about the spell you’d tried to do to resurrect him.

He knows I’m lying, you thought. He’s gonna tell them.

Keeping your expression neutral, you looked back at Sam. “I don’t know,” you lied. She didn’t say.”

Sam nodded once and turned his focus towards Dean. You glanced between them when neither one of them said anything, but you didn’t have the chance to ask what they were considering before Dean let out a resigned sigh.

“We check the warding before we do anything,” he told Sam, and he nodded in response.

“I can get on that,” you offered.

Dean firmly shook his head. “No. You should be resting. Didn’t you and Sam say that you were gonna watch a movie?”

Frowning, you glanced over at Sam before looking back at Dean. “Yeah, but—”

“No buts,” Dean said. “You two watch your movie while Cas and I work on the warding. If anything comes up we’ll let you know.” Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean gave him a warning look, grabbing the old book away from him and closing it. “Come on, Cas. Let’s let these two kids spend some time together.”

You stared after them as they both left the library though the hallways that led off the war room, then turned to look at Sam. After a moment, he let out a nervous laugh and sat up in his seat.

“Well, they, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave you a sheepish look. “I didn’t tell them to do that,” he explained, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“I believe you,” you replied with a smile. “We don’t actually have to go watch the movie, if you don’t want. They won’t know any different as long as we look the plot up online.”

Sam’s smile fell. “Do you not want to watch it? I can find another one, if you want.”

Quickly, you shook your head and pulled your mug closer to you, ready to get up from the table. “No! I want to watch it with you, I just… didn’t know if you’d still want to, I guess.”

“I want to,” Sam answered, and you nodded in response, relieved.

This is good, you assured yourself as the two of you stood and started to make your way to Sam’s bedroom. His flannel was still wrapped around your shoulders and you ducked your head shyly, hiding your indulgent smile from Sam. You didn’t want to show just how smitten with him you were after such a short time back at the bunker. Any feelings you had for him before you’d left seemed to have been magnified tenfold ever since you’d returned, and you had a feeling that part of it was due to how open to being with you Sam was. Plus, the hand-holding and the intentional cuddling on his part had helped speed things along. He was one of the nicest, sweetest guys you’d ever met in your life, and the butterflies in your stomach agreed wholeheartedly.

“Is this one okay?” Sam asked as you settled on his bed, putting your mug on his nightstand. You glanced his way and nodded happily at the movie he’d chosen.

Sam made sure that it was working before climbing into the bed with you, and almost immediately you cuddled into his side. The flannel that had been wrapped around your shoulders was now strewn across the flattened pillows behind you, but Sam’s warmth more than made up for the loss.

“You comfortable?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, smiling a little as Sam wrapped his arm around you. “Good.”

“Is me sitting like this okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” Sam replied. “I know that this is all new for us, but I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable, Y/N. I mean, so far everything that the two of us have done has felt…” He fell quiet, searching for the word until you finished for him.

“Natural. It’s felt natural.”

Sam nodded. “Exactly.”

Turning your attention back to Sam’s TV, you leaned your head against him and focused your eyes on the screen. Sam didn’t say anything more as the two of you watched the movie, but deep down you wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were—that the attraction between you wasn’t just because you were soulmates, but because you’d had time to become friends before he’d learned that you were, in fact, meant-to-be.

Your brain had run out of excuses and arguments for yours and Sam’s relationships by the time the credits rolled, but one little thought was still nagging at you as you watched the names slowly scroll by.

“Hey Sam?” you quietly asked, tilting your head to the side so you could peek up at him.

Sam looked down at you expectantly. “Yeah?”

“I never asked you if you believed in soulmates. Like, if you believed in them before all this.”

He was quiet for a moment and you kept your eyes on him as he thought. Finally, he replied, “I’d like to think I did. I mean, I always hoped that something as idyllic as soulmates existed, but the hunter in me—the part of me that was cynical about people believing in things that they think will save them but that I know won’t—knew that even just the idea of it was too good to be true, you know?”

You nodded and shifted out from under Sam’s arm. Kneeling on the mattress, you faced him and asked, “And now?”

“Now?” Sam repeated, and you nodded in response. “Now… Now I think I could believe in it. I mean, logically there’s too much evidence for me to deny it.”

“You make it sound as if there’s an un-logical side to this.”

“There’s always an un-logical side to things, Y/N.”

“So what’s the un-logical side of the argument for soulmates?” you asked.

Sam smiled a little, his focus entirely on you. “You.”

Your cheeks grew warm at his response and you ducked your head, hiding the instinctive, shy smile. He’s very direct, you thought as Sam chuckled. Peeking up at him, you saw that he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” he laughed. “You’re one of the boldest, bravest people I know, Y/N. All it takes is a little compliment to make you shy?”

Stammering, you replied, “That’s not fair, Sam!” He laughed again and you covered your face in your hands, feeling your smile widen into one just shy of idiocy. “You’re— You’re used to getting compliments all the time, I bet!”

“From who? Dean? From Cas? They’re really the only ones around all the time, so…”

When you lifted your head from your hands you saw that Sam’s bright smile had dimmed ever so slightly. “I meant from before the Switch,” you said after a second, realizing your mistake. “I mean, I read in the books that you and Dean got hit on a lot and I—”

Sam shook his head, cutting you off as his smile faded away even more. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s easy to forget that I don’t get out much.” He laughed weakly at the attempt at a joke and you nodded silently, looking down at your hands. Sam sighed. “I’m sorry. I ruined the mood, didn’t I?”

“No!” You looked up, hurriedly shaking your head to try and reassure him. “No, Sam, it’s my fault! I’m the one who made that bad joke about girls hitting on you.”

“Time to change the subject?” Sam asked, wincing slightly.

“Please,” you groaned, laughing in relief when he smiled again. “Wanna go see how Dean and Cas are doing?”

Nodding, Sam climbed out of bed and headed to the door. You followed behind him, more than happy to leave the bedroom in search of something else to do.

Not that I don’t enjoy Sam’s company, you said to yourself. Glancing down the hall in the opposite direction, you turned and followed him towards the sound of his brother’s voice. I just don’t know if I can bear another awkward conversation about Sam being stuck in the bunker for the rest of his life.

You were almost to the hallway where Dean and Cas were working on the warding when a sudden thought struck you.

“Sam, wait,” you said, reaching out to grab his hand to stop him. He did as you asked, your fingers brushing against his palm before he turned.

“What? Is everything okay?”

Nodding, you avoided meeting his eyes. “I have to tell you something. About what Rowena said,” you added.

Sam shifted his weight to one leg and watched you carefully. “Okay…”

“It’s about the “Or What”. I wasn’t gonna tell you, but I don’t want to hide anything from you anymore. I learned my lesson and I’m not about to mess that up again.”

He inhaled deeply and nodded, waiting until you glanced up at him to make sure he was still listening. “Go on…”

“She said…” You looked down at your hands, fidgeting nervously before dropping them to your side, then crossing your arms over your chest and unfolding them only a moment later. “She said that I’d die, Sam. And that my death would be permanent,” you added.

Sam stood in silence for a long moment, long enough for your stomach to tie itself in knots and your eyes to threaten with tears.

“It’s okay,” he finally replied, and you looked up at him in confusion. His eyes were soft and he gave you a tiny, reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. We always do.”

You nodded. Your throat was tight as you fought off the tears and you felt the nervous smile you were giving him waver.

“C’mere,” Sam murmured, and then he was pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back tightly, closing your eyes as he held you. Your cheek was pressed against his shoulder and you exhaled heavily, nodding against him as he reassured you once more.

“Okay,” you sighed as you pulled away. Taking a deep breath, you fanned your eyes for a second to ward off anymore crying, then gave Sam a somewhat stronger smile. “I’m good. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Okay. Alright. We’ve got this.”

“You good?”

You nodded and let Sam take your hand, leading you down the hallway towards his brother and your angel. Dean was just finishing up one of the spells when you got there. The warding sigil on the wall glowed golden for a long second before fading away, and he glanced over at you and Sam when it finally disappeared. His eyes flicked down to your hands and a wide smile grew on his face.

“Hey, lovebirds,” he teased.

Sam scowled. “Knock it off, Dean.”

“How’s the warding going?” you asked, wanting to pull your hand from Sam’s to save him from more teasing, but he was holding on tightly and you didn’t really want to let go if you didn’t have to. It was nice to hold his hand without it being weird.

“Good,” Cas replied. “We’re almost finished with the generic monster warding, and all we have after that is the demonic wards and the more advanced ones. Those will take some time and a few more ingredients that we need to go out and get.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Sam asked.

Cas glanced at Dean, who pointedly looked down at the book in his hands. “We’re not sure,” Cas finally answered. “Some of them are relatively rare… We’ll have to go to an auction to find them.”

You sucked in a breath and Sam gently squeezed your hand in response. The thought of the auctions made you sick to your stomach. You knew that there was never an auction without hunters or some kind of non-monster auctioned off. Sometimes they even marketed civilians as hunters and auctioned them off instead just so they could make a bigger profit than they would have gotten from having just the few hunters they’d managed to track down.

“No one’s gonna get hurt,” Dean reassured you, and you nodded tightly in response. “Cas’ll go and get ‘em. He’ll be back in no time, Y/N.”

“He can’t go in his own vessel,” Sam argued. “They’ll recognize him. We already know that they’ve got some kind network where they share information about non-human rebels and Cas has a pretty big presence as it is. We don’t need him going out and risking his life just to get a few spell ingredients.”

“We can’t redo the wardings without those ingredients, Sam.”

“I’m not saying we don’t go out and get them, I’m just…”

“You’re just what? What are you trying to suggest?”

“All I’m saying is that… He can use me as a vessel again.”

Rowena’s words popped into your head and you pulled your hand from Sam’s, forcing him to look at you, followed shortly by Dean and Cas. “No. Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous, Sam.”

“Y/N—”

You shook your head, stopping him. “No, Sam. Rowena wants you to leave the bunker, and I don’t think she’ll care if Cas is possessing you or not. If she’s got a way to get past wardings that not even archangels can get past, she can get at you even with him in there. There’s no way that we’re letting you do this.”

Dean watched you for a moment before glancing at his brother. “She’s got a point, Sam.”

The hallway fell silent as you and Sam stared at each other, neither one of you willing to give up or look away.

It was Cas who finally spoke up. “Ultimately, it’s Sam’s decision, Y/N. It’s his body and he gets to choose whether or not to let me possess him for the trip. He’s well aware of what could happen.”

You clenched your teeth together and crossed your arms in front of you, trying to hold yourself together. “You’d really consider this?”

Sam hesitated before nodding. “It’s the only way to get the ingredients.” You looked away, but Sam stepped forward before you could do anything else. “You’re really against me doing this?” he asked.

“I—” You glanced over at Dean and Cas, who immediately averted their eyes to give the two of you the slightest semblance of privacy. “I love you, Sam. I don’t want to lose you. We’ve lost so much already, and I don’t—”

“Then I won’t,” Sam said. You looked up at him, surprised that he’d changed his mind so quickly. His face was earnest as he took your hands in his, squeezing a little as he continued, “I don’t want to lose you either. If you think it’s a bad idea, I won’t do it. I love you, too.”

Relieved, you let yourself smile, feeling your chest tighten with excitement and nerves. “Really?”

Sam smiled. “Really.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Okay.”

“You two good?” Dean asked. His eyebrows were raised as you looked over at him, feeling your cheeks grow warm when you glanced back at Sam, who was still smiling as well.

“We’re good, yeah,” you told him. Sam chuckled and pulled you into hug, your arms wrapped around his waist and your head turned so you could still look at his brother.

Dean nodded. “We should do all the warding we can for right now, then. I’ll see if we can get one of our contacts to get those spell ingredients for us, and in the meantime we can try and find something to hide the bunker from Rowena and her Stormtroopers.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Did you just make a Star Wars reference?”

Sam laughed and squeezed you a little, his arms still holding you tightly against him. “Sounds like your new best friend isn’t so much a fan, Dean.”

“You’ll become a fan if I have any say in it!” Dean cried, his face breaking into wide grin.

“We’ll see,” you replied. “I think it’s more fun to annoy you with it than it’ll be to actually watch the movies.” Sam laughed again. He kissed the top of your head and you couldn’t stop the little sigh that escaped your lips.

It’s so perfect, you thought as Dean and Cas gathered up their materials. Sam let go of you to help them and you watched in silence, leaning against the wall. I hope it stays like this forever.

“You coming?” Sam asked, starting to follow his brother back towards the library. You nodded and fell into step beside him. “You wanna make something to eat and then we’ll get started on that research?”

“Sure,” you answered. You smiled a little and linked your arm with his, smiling wider when he gave you a pleased look. “I’m down for anything, Sam, as long as I’m with you.”

_______________

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thisisusfan388 · 6 years

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It's All Coming Back To Me Now

Hey guys -- this is my first ever 'This Is Us' fic, written in conjunction with the This Is Us appreciation week organized by @bigthree :) I'm submitting this piece for This Is Us Appreciation Week day 2- favourite character, because Jack Pearson is my favorite character on the show. <3

This takes place shortly after Jack's death. In this chapter, we'll explore Rebecca's POV and how she coped with Jack's death and how she was feeling a month after his death. Enjoy!

P.S. The title inspiration for this chapter is from Celine Dion's song 'It's All Coming Back To Me Now.'

p.p.s Special thanks and gratitude goes to the lovely @private-practice-fan for helping me to proofread and giving me feedback and encouragement for this fic. <3 <3

Rebecca's POV

The silence in the middle of the night is so loud. I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

A month has passed since I've had to scatter my husband's ashes under a tree. One month since I've lost the love of my life, and had my other half ripped apart from me. One month since life as I knew it ended so abruptly.

I've heard that they are 5 stages of grief -- denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I may have skipped one or more stages. I was definitely in denial when the doctor first told me that Jack was dead. I casually popped the half-eaten chocolate into my mouth and told the doctor he was out of his mind and to back off. Of course, I found it impossible to believe -- just a few minutes ago, the last time I saw Jack, he was fine - sitting up on the hospital bed, teasing me and cracking one of his lame jokes. (Which I now miss so much). But when I rushed back into his room and saw his still body, that's when the harsh reality sank in -- Jack was gone forever. I can barely recall covering my mouth in shock, trying to no avail to suppress the animal-like moan of anguish that escaped my throat as I felt the floor give way from under me and my entire world crumble beneath me.

The infamous question of ‘Why do bad things happen to good people' popped into my head too.

Jack and I were supposed to live happily ever after. We were supposed to grow old together, to be one of those old couples who are still so in love with each other after many decades of marriage, one of those couples who people envy and younger couples aspire to be. One day, we were making out on the couch and planning to start a new business venture together, and the next day, our dreams were all extinguished by the fire. A fire which started with a malfunctioning crockpot. Who knew that fire, which is essential to mankind could destroy an entire house and family in minutes?

For the past month, I felt like a walking zombie, going through all the motions. The first week of being a widow passed by in a blur. I was physically present but emotionally, I was somewhere else. Yes, I was there at Jack's funeral, entertaining the guests who came and offered me their most sincere condolences. I faked a smile as I shook their hands and thanked them. I put on a facade, staying strong for everyone to see. People had been calling up to check on me, sending me well-meaning messages or dropping by to give me some prepared meals. I was so grateful for their help, but the fact is -- nothing can replace the hole that Jack's demise left in my heart. After that, when the generous friends stopped visiting, loneliness started to seep in. However, I need to be strong for my three children -- they have just lost their father and are grieving too. I can't show any sign of weakness in front of them, because I am now the leader of the family. I'm supposed to be the strong one, getting it together for the family. I have no choice, I'm the only parent they have left.

Even scattering Jack's ashes under the special tree couldn't help me let go of him. Surprisingly, I didn't cry that night but instead brought the kids to watch a movie, where we tried to no avail to laugh away all our heartbreak and grief.

The 3 children are coping with the loss of their beloved dad in their own ways. Kevin has been spending more and more time at Sophie's, only returning to our rented apartment at night to sleep. In fact, he now sleeps over at Sophie's most nights too, so I seldom see him. I know that Sophie is leaving for NYU and he wants to spend as much time with her as possible before she leaves. But he's my son, and I know that this is his coping mechanism, his way of ignoring the fact that he was in an argument with his dad the last time he saw him. When I ask him about his college applications, he would just snap at me.

Kate seems withdrawn in her own world. I know that she was the closest to Jack and they shared a special father-daughter bond which could not be broken. My heart aches for her. I try to reach out to her, but the more I do, the more she withdraws from me. She doesn't talk to me at all; she doesn't even answer me when I show her concern by asking her if she has showered or eaten. She hasn't smiled for the past month. All she does when she's home from school is stare blankly into space with her headphones stuck in her ears. She won’t answer me when I ask her about her college applications.

Randall is the only child who seems to care about me, the only one whose sanity is still intact. He is the one staying by my side the whole time and making sure that I am okay. He is the only one who cares to ask whether I have eaten or slept and how I'm feeling. Even though he is grieving over the loss of his father too, he still cares for me and I really appreciate it. He tells me that he is interested in entering one of the Ivy League universities, although he has yet to decide which university to apply to.

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Now in the middle of one of those lonely nights spent lying alone in bed and staring up at the ceiling, I let myself grieve. I look at the other side of the too huge king-sized bed, which seems so empty. Jack is supposed to be lying here beside me. I'm supposed to be cuddled up in our big comfortable bed with him, safe in his warm embrace. I miss being in his arms, snuggled up close to him, feeling the comfort of his heartbeat. Now the bed seems so empty and cold without him.

"Jack -- you are supposed to be here" I whisper to the empty space beside me. Even now, I still sleep on the same side of the bed. Maybe I'm subconsciously hoping for Jack to appear beside me when I open my eyes in the morning. I sigh as I continue whispering. ‘'You're supposed to be here for our children's graduations. You're supposed to be here for their weddings. You're supposed to be here to see the birth of our grandchildren. We are supposed to grow old together."

I close my eyes and feel a stray tear running down my cheek. Now Big Three Homes will remain a dream. Jack will never see our children get married. He won’t be present to walk Kate down the aisle on her wedding day if she gets married. He'll never get to meet our future grandchildren if we have them. This is so unfair.

My mind wanders to Dr. K's wise words which have made an impact on mine and Jack's lives. "There's no lemon so sour that you can't make something resembling lemonade.'' When Jack first told me about this quote, which Dr. K uttered to him in the hospital when the triplets were born and we lost Kyle, I thought it was a great quote indeed. We decided to use this quote as our life and family motto.

This quote was what got us through all the ups and downs of life, including the loss of Kyle, our 3rd triplet, and our marriage troubles just a couple of years ago. We made lemonade together. But now I have to do this alone, and I don't think I can.

I then recall Dr. K's encouraging words to me at the bench after Jack's funeral. I had been trying to stay strong for too long, but I finally broke down at his words. He reminded me of my strength and reassured me that I could go on even when I thought I couldn't. He told me that I not only made lemonade, but I made the sweetest lemonade ever. In my grief at that moment, I didn't necessarily believe his words, but I clung to them like a lifeline. His words were what got me through the rest of the month. I kept on reminding myself that I must remain strong for the kids.

Another few stray tears roll down my cheeks as I wipe them away with the sleeve of my nightgown. I am alone; Kevin must be at Sophie's -- he hasn't had a single meal with me ever since the night we scattered Jack's ashes. Kate might be at a friend's too -- she has been avoiding me like a plague. And Randall is in his own room, fast asleep.

I feel so lonely indeed. Jack was the glue that kept the family together. Now after his death, it seems like our entire family just disintegrated. As more tears roll down, I recall the wonderful memories that Jack and I had built over the years. I recall the very first time I laid my eyes on him as I was singing ‘Moonshadow'. I almost stopped singing right then as my heart skipped a beat. I finished the song as my eyes never left him the entire time. As soon as I finished singing, I left the stage immediately and went over to say hello. We talked for hours that night, until the pub closed. Since then, we were inseparable. His proposal was simple but so unique and heartwarming. Our wedding, although simple, was one of the best days of my life. I felt like such a beautiful bride that day -- Jack made sure I felt that way. We did everything together -- we watched the Super Bowl together every year without fail. We entered parenthood, grieved through the loss of Kyle and adopted Randall together. We raised 3 children together in a happy and healthy environment. We changed diapers, cleaned up messes, kissed scrapped knees, hosted numerous birthday parties and mediated sibling squabbles together. We made numerous memories as a family. I remember Easter, Christmas and Thanksgiving celebrations and how we were such a happy family. Even when we had a huge argument a couple of years ago, we still managed to make up and emerge from it stronger than ever. Friends have always mentioned that we were attached at the hip, and I don't think I can argue with that.

I think this had mostly to do with Jack being the near perfect person he was. I know that no one is perfect, but he was the closest to perfect as a human can be. He always made sure to let me know every day how much he loved me and how much I meant to him through his words and actions. When we were courting, he made sure to bring me to the most romantic restaurants and shower me with the best gifts ever, even though I'm sure it must have burnt a hole in his pocket. I expressed my concerns about that, but he always brushed it off, saying that I deserve it. When I was pregnant with the triplets, he purchased our dream house- the house which was full of happy memories, joy and laughter, which ended up being burnt to the ground in an instant. Although the house is no longer physically there, the memories we created in the house will stay with me and the kids forever. When we brought the babies home from the hospital, although it wasn't common for dads to help out with childcare during that time, he erased the stereotype right from the beginning by helping me to feed them and change their diapers and waking up in the middle of the night to soothe their cries. When the children were older, he was the fun parent, always suggesting fun things to do as a family, such as spontaneous road trips and vacations, which delighted them. When one of the children was upset, he would placate them in his own way. He had the talent of turning a pout into a grin in a matter of seconds. He had the knack of resolving squabbles between the siblings effortlessly. The times when I would lose my temper over a petty thing, he would put a smile back on my face almost right away. When the kids drove me up the wall, he knew how to calm me down. When he saw that I was fuming inside, he would make a joke or give me a hug or kiss and tell me how much he loved me, and I would cool down immediately. He was always so level-headed and even-tempered. He had such a big heart; he had shown time and time again that he would do anything for me and our kids, even climb mountains and swim across seas for us. He would even lay down his life for us, which was demonstrated so clearly when he tried to save me, Kate and Randall from the fire. To top it off, he just had to re-enter the house that night to save Kate’s dog and mementos that meant so much to us. Could he have survived had he not gone back into the house to save Kate’s dog and the mementos? No one knows for sure. What I know for sure is that nothing is going to bring him back.

"Jack, I don't know how I can go on without you." I whisper out loud. "I'm not strong enough to carry on living the rest of my life without you. I know I have to be strong for our kids, but I just can't do this anymore." I whimper as I let the tears continue to roll down my cheeks.

I take another glance at the oh so empty space beside me.

"I don't know if you can hear or see me, but if you do, I need a sign that you're ok." I whisper again. I would give anything just to see his face and his smile, hear his voice and laughter, and feel the warmth of his touch one more time.

"I'm ok, Rebecca." I hear Jack's voice calling out from the dark. I am now sitting upright on the bed. Is this real? Am I hallucinating? Is that really Jack's voice I am hearing?

"Jack!" I whisper as I turn frantically towards the direction of the voice.

There in the darkness he stands, my Jack, looking ever so handsome in the same shirt he was wearing the last time I saw him.

He is smiling at me, the smile which I miss so much.

"Jack", I cry out, my words stuck in my throat. Is this really him, standing next to me?

"Jack, I…. I miss you so much." I mutter, at loss of words to say to him. " The kids miss you too. Kevin is barely at home, Kate hides in her room all the time, Randall is the only one who cares but I cannot burden him anymore… Jack, I just can't do this without you. I'm not strong enough to face life without you. I need you. The kids need you. Why did you have to leave?!"

"You can do this, Rebecca. I know you can. I have full faith in you. You're the strongest and most remarkable woman I know." Jack encourages me in his ever-soothing voice.

" But I need you by my side. We're supposed to grow old together!" I cry out.

"I know, and we'll still age together. I'm still here with you -- I'm here in your heart." he says, pointing to his heart. I'll live in the memories we shared together, and through our children. I love you so much Rebecca, more than you'll ever know. You and the kids are my whole life. So you have to be strong for the kids. Let them know that I love them so much too. Let Kevin know that I forgive him, and not to beat himself up over our last argument and that he makes me proud. Tell Kate that she'll be such an amazing singer, and that she shouldn't care so much about what others think of her, because she's already wonderful as she is. Tell Randall that he has such great potential and will go on to do incredible things in life. Tell all 3 of them that I'm so proud of them."

"You're supposed to tell them yourself!" I sob. "You're supposed to be here to see the 3 of them graduate high school and send them off to the college of their choices."

" I'll be there during their graduation. Just picture me smiling proudly at them. I know I'll be so proud of them. We raised 3 incredible kids, Rebecca." Jack points out, smiling.

" We did it together. And now I can't do this alone." I sob again.

"You're not alone, Rebecca. I'm here with you. Just look out for any signs which bring a smile to your face -- a butterfly, a rainbow, a blooming flower. I'll be here with you always." he says.

I look at him for comfort and he just smiles and shows me his perfect teeth.

I wish he would touch my shoulder in a comforting gesture and pull me into a warm embrace like he usually does, but this time he doesn't.

I reach out my hand to touch him, but touch cold air instead.

Meanwhile, he is beginning to fade slowly into the background.

"Jack!" I cry out. I am losing him all over again and it breaks my heart.

"No…no… Jack!!" I cry louder, as I reach my hand out even further, clinging to his presence.

But it's too late -- he's gone.

I stare into the darkness where he stood just a moment ago, before I dissolve into uncontrollable sobs. Why did he have to leave me?!

I sob and sob until I feel someone shaking me.

"Mom?" I hear Randall's voice calling me.

"Mom?" he calls out again as he shakes me awake.

"Huh?" I groggily reply as I rub off sleep from my eyes.

" I was wondering whether you are ok, because it's already 11 am. You never slept in until this late before." Randall says, a tone of concern in his voice. "Are you ok?"

"Mom are you crying?" he asks before I can answer him.

"Yes, I was dreaming about your dad." I tell him, sniffling. " He looked so handsome, wearing the same shirt he wore the last time we saw him. He told me to tell you that you have so much potential and will go on to do incredible things in life and that he's so proud of you and your siblings. He also told me how strong I am. I miss him so much, Randall." I say, my voice cracking.

I can see Randall's eyes begin to water, and a downcast expression on his face.

" I know Mom, I really miss him too." he says.

" He's supposed to see you graduate and go to an Ivy League university." I say, as tears begin rolling down my cheeks again.

Randall takes a seat on the bed beside me and pulls me close for a hug. Feeling the warmth of his embrace, I miss being in Jack's arms even more. I begin to let go of all the emotions I've been hiding inside and sob in his arms. I sob and sob, letting go of all the grief, despair and anguish I feel over losing Jack, and the loneliness and emptiness which losing my soulmate and companion for life left in my heart. We sit in that position for a long time, clinging on tight to each other for support. We need each other to fill the void that losing Jack left in our lives. We need to stay strong for each other.

This is it guys, my first ever This Is Us fic. Please do let me know what you think, ok -- feedback in any form- be it reblogs with comments, notes, asks, direct messages, etc. are very welcome. I would really love to hear from you all <3

P.S. Do stay tuned for the POVs of each of the Big Three shortly after Jack's death

#tiuappweek18 #day2 #favorite character #jack pearson #rebecca pearson #randall pearson #this is us #this is us fics #ailing's fics #ailing's this is us fics

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whereisthefood123 · 7 years

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Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy this little piece I wrote for Gajeel’s day! I totally didn’t forget about Gajeel’s day *nervous laugh*

Characters: Gajeel Redfox, Pantherlily, Levy McGarden

Pairing: Brotp Gajeel and Lily

Word count: 1.3k (I’m getting better at keeping the stories short)

Ffnet

For a long time, Gajeel never felt like he belonged anywhere. After Metalicana up and left him, Gajeel truly believed there was something wrong with him that made him unable to fit anywhere he went. Unable to feel at home anywhere.

When he joined Phantom Lord, the feeling never left him. The barely legal guild was less home-like than the streets Gajeel haunted or the roofs where he perched on to hunt his next victims. So, when the fairies defeated Porla, Gajeel didn’t feel as lost as when Metalicana left. Phantom Lord had been just a roof above his head that he could easily replace with a rundown garage full of scrap metal to munch on.

Fairy Tail had been different though. Even just being inside the guildhall, the atmosphere felt different. Warm. Welcoming. Even for someone like him who had done terrible things to the fairies. They were odd, Gajeel had decided, for letting him in so easily and even forgiving him for his past sins. Still, Gajeel didn’t let his guard down. This was just another building. Another fleeting structure that could crumble to the ground as easily as the leaves at Fall. No need to feel at home when it was that fragile.

Lily changed that a bit. His rundown house suddenly became a bit more comfortable with him. Gajeel thought that it might be because of how similar the Exceed and the dragon slayer’s lives were before meeting. There was blood on each other’s hands, but they held a mutual respect about not prying into the other’s past. He definitely liked sharing his house with Lily. It suddenly felt fuller somehow.

With time, Gajeel grew more comfortable at Fairy Tail too. He even chose to hang out at the guildhall instead of going to the mountains to train all by himself or with Lily. It might have had something to do with the fact that he felt a bit more connected with some fairies. With the likes of Levy and Wendy and Juvia. They were alright to hang around, he guessed. And others like Cana and Titania and even Salamander were not as bad either. Gajeel had started to feel at home in Fairy Tail. Something he had never felt ever since Metalicana disappeared.

When Fairy Tail disbanded, Gajeel was reminded of the cruel reality that buildings could crumble to the ground any second and that those you considered close to you could leave you behind in order to move on with their lives. Gajeel had been angry as hell when it happened. If it hadn’t been for Lily and Levy who stayed with him for the following weeks, Gajeel was sure he would have turned back to his old habits and joined a dark guild or something.

He had just started to feel a bit at ease with Fairy Tail disbandment when Levy threw out the news during lunch.

She was joining the Magic Council. And she wanted them to go with her.

Gajeel didn’t even care that he had split up his dinner table or almost ripped the door off its hinges when he stormed out of his house. He felt the strong need to go somewhere else. Anywhere else. Because she was leaving. Another friend leaving him behind not caring about him. And why would he follow her? They would probably never let someone like Gajeel join the Magic Council. And even if they did, it was just another place where he would never belong. Where he would never feel at home.

He sat by the rumbles that had been once the Fairy Tail guildhall. He lost track of time, too deep in his own thoughts for several hours. The sky darkened and the moon shone brightly as the dragon slayer stayed there trying to will the guildhall to return to his previous state. He tried to will it to be as loud as he had grown used for it to be. But the night stayed quiet as he finally allowed himself to mourn the loss of what had been his home since Metalicana.

Though Gajeel had been ignoring everything around him, he did notice when Lily sat down beside him in his small form and stared at the remains of the guildhall without uttering a word. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, but Gajeel’s mind was racing with a million thoughts on what to do now. And he knew if someone could help him sort out his ideas it was Lily.

“Oi, Lil’,” Gajeel said but didn’t turn to look at his partner. He glared at the debris when the bitter taste of the next words hit his tongue. “Are you going with the Shrimp?”

“That depends,” Lily stated calmly with his eyes fixed in the same direction as the dragon slayer’s.

“On what?”

“On whether you’re coming with us or not.”

A pause settled between them. A sudden calm washed over Gajeel at knowing his cat cared about him. Considered him for his decision. But he knew it was stupid of Lily to miss an opportunity like this one for Gajeel’s own insecurities.

“Tch. If ya wanna go, just go cat. Wha’d’aya need me for?” His own words stung worse than the chill of the night.

“We’re partners, Gajeel. Remember?” Lily’s composed response soothed Gajeel’s mind again. His cat was more loyal than anyone he had ever met.

Gajeel stopped glaring at the rumbles of the guildhall but he still didn’t look Lily’s way. “They’d never let me join the Council. They would arrest me first-”

“That’s not what’s stopping you, isn’t it?” For the first time that night, Lily raised his voice to cut off Gajeel. The dragon slayer felt a growl rumble in his chest in annoyance.

Fucking cat knew him so well.

His glare returned to the remains of the guildhall and he tightened his fists in anger.

“Why move away? We have our place here. Or had…” Gajeel’s sentence trailed off as his expression turned softer. Sadder even.

Lily chuckled quietly and shook his head. “Gajeel, do you feel at home?” He spared a glance at his partner by the corner of his eye.

“Huh?” Gajeel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his friend’s question.

“It’s really a subjective term, don’t you think?” The Exceed looked up to the bright moon as he continued, “Levy has told me she believes home to be where her friends and family are. I think home is where I can be useful to others with the things I do.” Lily looked at Gajeel and waited for the dragon slayer to meet his gaze. “Home is not a building, Gajeel. And it’s not a guildhall or the cave where you grew up in. But its definition is entirely up to you.” He winked at his partner as he let his last sentence echoed through the lonely night.

Gajeel closed his eyes letting Lily’s words sink in his heart. He looked back again at the debris of the guildhall and sighed as he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He stood up and started walking towards his house.

“Let’s go cat.” He called over his shoulder. His voice was stronger and more energetic than it had been in the last weeks.

Lily caught up to him easily, flying next to him before perching on Gajeel’s shoulder. “May I ask, where to?”

“Tch. To pack up, idiot. Can’t have you and the Shrimp leaving me behind, can I?” Gajeel smirked at Lily and he mimicked his expression.

For the longest time, Gajeel never felt like he belonged anywhere after Metalicana disappeared. But it was mainly because he had looked for a physical place, like a guildhall or a house. Now, he realized that neither Levy nor Lily’s description of home worked for him. It was a combination of both. Gajeel felt at home in Fairy Tail because the people he cared about were there and because he felt useful protecting the guild from every crazy bastard that decided to declare war on Fairy Tail.

By joining the Council, he would use his abilities for the better and he would have friends he cared about, at least Lily and Levy, with him to enjoy his time there.

He was ready to make the Magic Council his new home.

A/N: Thank you very much for reading! I felt awful for not having anything prepared for Gajeel’s day and suddenly this popped up in my head. I’m still debating on whether to use this for my Magic Council multi-chapter story (which will happen... eventually... once I’m done with some other WIPs)

If you liked the story please leave a comment, reblog or like :) I go through every little tag you guys use for reblogs and I adore it even more when you use gifs on your reblogs; it gives me good feedback on what you guys like and encourage me to write more often (even when I don’t answer back as frequently as I should, you need to know that your words/tags/gifs make me squeal, cry and turn around in my bed thinking about how wonderful all of you are for commenting on my writing)

Thanks again for reading!

WTF (Where’s The Food?)

#Gajeel Redfox #ftfanfics #ficsforvera #pantherlily #Levy McGarden #fanfic #Gajeel's day #fairy tail #this might have come off a bit rushed #sorry for grammar/spelling mistakes #hope you still like it nonetheless #my poor baby deserved something for his day #even if it was a bit late as everything I do xD #I think I might explore a bit more about Gajeel and Lily's friendship #where's the food fanfiction

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xottzot · 7 years

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2017-08(AUG)-09--Tuesday.

What a fucking shit of a fucking day again that I have had and NONE of it is for anything I have done.

Max has TWICE today gone absolutely beserk and tried to attack me...all because Sam did something stupid each time and I gently told Sam to stop doing it. Sam growled because Max growled. Sam growled worse because Max growled. Max growled even worse and started to become absolutely savage and snarling. That sent Sam doing the same. Endless fucking escalting feedback loop.

Sam and Max are the two VERY dear and much loved dogs who are brothers, which Fliss and I were bringing up before she took off an abandoned them....SEVERAL TIMES.

And today because it was SO DAMNED COLD both dogs were on the bed with me as I was watching a video and reading now & then some important paperwork that I have to personally attend to sometime over the next few weeks.

I verbally commanded both rotweiller dogs Sam and Max OFF the bed. Max got even worse!

I was only just able to get them out of the bedroom and close the bedroom door shut becauase Max went beserk and lunged at me and tried to vicioulsy savage me as he has done before and caused vicious injuries to myself. Sam got vicious. Max tried to attack him.

I said fuck the two of you. And fuck Felicity Ann Carthew of Tamworth, New South Wales, Australia for abandoning us all, cutting all contact, and whilst she apparently lives the life over there helping other people with dogs in Tamworth, she couldn't give a fuck about dear Sam and Max who she abandoned, and the same goes for me.

How I miss not having my guns to end myself and everything.

All Fliss has to do is to contact me, so we can repair our lives, lives that SHE ripped apart with her rampant drugs taking and drugs stealing, and money stealing, and rampant lying to the point that she NEVER told the truth about ANYTHING, making people blindly and foolishly trust her, and she kept EVERYTHING hidden, even power bills and water bills and everything which I only stumbled upon until later after she left, but she doesn't give a fuck.

So to all you stupid gullible brainless people who think that dear Fliss is somebody you can trust...you can NOT TRUST HER.

I STILL want to be with Fliss and have a good life with her, the very things SHE promised us and I struggled so very hard to do and was getting there for us, and then in 2015 she suddenly cut all contact and NOBODY can understand why she is so utterly crazy for not even contacting me to let me know what the hell's going on and for us getting back together again.

ALL of Fliss's friends in Western Australia here have asked ME about Fliss and THEY can NOT understand why she is so insane. MANY of them have become so very shocked when I told them of the extent of her mental states, and her rampant pill thefts and taking of countless pills, because Fliss NEVER told them anything about ANY of it, and so they all thought she was 'normal'. - They counted dear Fliss as a friend, sometimes a close friend, a trusted friend. And THEY have become victims of Fliss as have I. - IN may cases they simply can NOT believe how bad Fliss was here in Western Australia, but when they getmore knowledge about Fliss, suddenly everything starts to become clear to them and their own experiences with Fliss.

Just last week or the week before, I was asked by somebody Fliss knows well in Midland, and I told them the absolute truth. And they were utterly staggered by Fliss's total lack of communication with me, and of her behaviours. They previously thought that Fliss was somebody truthful and reliable. - Now all of that has been revised by them. And NONE of that is because of me. It is all upon Fliss.

And in Tamworth, Fliss is playing up and pretending to be 'normal'.......

To anyone anywhere who comes across Fliss (Felicty Ann Carthew), of Tamworth, New South Wales, Australia either in person or online, be VERY aware of her state and how it STILL seems as though she can NOT be trusted. - (tell me Fliss that you can)

She can pretend as much as she likes to everyone. But when she does not even follow normal civil communications AT ALL, then surely that is stating so much to everyone about her, her domineering family who control her, and her sycophantic 'friends' (real and online), who have absolutely NO idea about Fliss other than the lies that she and her family are allowing to be dominant over everything, then do NOT be surprised when Fliss has futher mental problems that she will not be able to lie about and have everyone believe her and her family.

I DID NOT CREATE THIS SITUATION. - APPARENTLY IT EXISTED LONG BEFORE I EVER KNEW ABOUT IT AND LONG BEFORE I EVER MET FLISS.

But I love dear Fliss with all my heart and soul, and have always done so.

I AM IN HELL.

Dear Sam & Max are in HELL. - They are getting WORSE every day. BOTH dogs are having severe nightmares EVERY TIME they sleep now. BOTH dogs are every day running outside and looking for Fliss, and EVERY DAY they are terribly dejected because they realise yet again that she has abandoned THEM and me like an utter heartless bitch.

If I go ANYWHERE, when I return, they eagerly look for dear Fliss to be with me. - And AGAIN, they are teribly dejected because we have all not been reunited. This is a DAILY OCCURENCE.

And EVERY day and night both Sam and Max are increasingly getting worse and worse. - But Fliss does NOT care. - Meanwhile, apparetly she bleats about and dotes upon other peoples dogs in New South Wales. - Are they ersatz stand-ins for Fliss's placating of her mind of having left us all in HELL?

Would YOU like such a person to treat YOUR animals when you know how heartless and cruel she is?

I STILL want to be with Fliss and away from this hellhole, but Fliss seems that she does NOT care at all.

And I have terrible nightmares EVERY night because of all this shit and have done so since late 2015 when Fliss went beserk and was overdosed and out of her mind on Stilnox sleeping pills and all the other pills she was seceretly taking. - ALL the things I was constantly struggling to stop her from losing her mind and everything to.

AND....Fliss's mental states HAVE suffered an incredible anmount since she had been with me over 10 years, NOT because of me, but because she of her deteriorating physical states which lead to terrible mental states. - ALL THAT she kept secret from EVERYONE, ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE. EVEN HER OWN FAMILY. - Even I had troubles trying to get Fliss to admit that she was becoming so bad and she would not admit how I could know when she was faking being so 'well and normal'. -- And Fliss REFUSED to do anything about it all, and dear Fliss commanded that only SHE knew what she should do, overruling medical advice from experts, overruling mental advice from experts, overruling EVERYONE. - Whilst all the time lying, lying lying.

But we were reconciling before she left to go to New South Wales and were going to start a new better life together there together and possibly also with dear Sam & Max. But then all of a sudden EVERYTHING stopped because she stopped any and all communications...NOT ME.

And ever since late 2015, I have been in utter hell, and so has Sam & Max.

I'll post this up, NOBODY will read it, NOBODY will care, NOBODY will contact Fliss. I am completely unable to contact Fliss. I've tried MANY times. Fliss is kept in absolute ignorance of anything else but the bullshit she's doing in Tamworth, New South Wales. She's living in a bullshit world of her own making and in her own mindset.

BEWARE anyone else who has any interaction with Fliss. It seems she will USE you, exploit you, DESTROY you, just as she had done with people she knew before I met her, just as she did with people when I knew Fliss, just as she did with people when we lived together here in Western Australia (and RUINED THEIR OWN LIVES AND FAMILIES), and on and on and on.

But I still have hope to be with dear Fliss and be with her in the life with her that she promsied us.

But it's becoming IMPOSSIBLE. Not a word, not a whisper, NOTHING. - And of course then EVERY FUCKER BLAMES ME FOR THE ENTIRE SITUATION!

I have NOBODY and NOTHING.

I've run out of food and MONEY AGAIN.

I expect I will be judged to have been stupid because when I had some money (after YEARS of saving it up), I spent it on the most basic NEW smallest car (an absoute necesessity here) I could get because the car of Fliss and mine was absolutely dead and could NOT be fixed anymore and needs to be totally sold off for scrap parts.

I can NOT even park the new small car properly at this hovel because there's no room. The old car has a flat wheel. I need to change that wheel. The nuts are rusted on completely SOLID. The car can't be moved away until the wheel is changed to the spare wheel. All the tyres are bald. The engine will NOT ever start again. The speedo/mileage counter does NOT work. The car/wagon leaks VERY BADLY from all the leaks and bodywork in the roof which can NOT be fixed. All the interior roof lining is falling off completely. A LOT of the paint is comimg off. Rust is slowly going all over and going through the thing in the bodywork.

Not so long ago I had envisaged taking and driving that thing along with Sam & Max to a remote location and ending. - Now that vehicle can go nowhere.

With the small car, it's too small to carry Sam & Max at all unless they are heavily sedated and unconscious. - All been mapped out.

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And to top all this shit off, is the criminals roaming endlessly about, the violent and criminal and unpredictable at all times aboriginals on illegal drugs and booze, AND the non-abo criminals just as bad.

They ALL prey upon each other, and prey upon ANYONE and ANYTHING they can.

Fliss knows NOTHING about any of this because she took off in late 2015 JUST BEFORE ALL THIS SHIT SKYROCKETTED...and so she would have some INSANE belief that everything is okay here where I am stuck.

But she DID know about the rampant aboriginal drug dealer, dealing out drugs to abo's and white's and anyone who he couldget money from. - He did that for about a decade, despite dear Fliss in absolute vain trying to get Police and authorities to rightly do anything. - In early 2016 the abo drug dealer was finally evicted, and the abo house across the road which was associated with him so very closely in crime and crimnality, THAT house rose up.

This late afternoon, from the criminal abo household, there came two of them onto the roads, an abo man and an abo woman. - NEVER EVER make the mistake that the abo woman are just gentle and are victims. THEY are just as much savage and violent and unpredictable as any aboriginal criminal and are often much WORSE and they play up their fake inocence to Police and authorities and constantly plead that they must ALWAYS never be jailed because they have to take care of their feral criminal children, the SAME criminal abo children that roam all about and wantonly cause so much damage and crime. - Useless departments DEMAND that the criminal children are just 'victims' themselves, and they NEVER EVER consider how crimnal they truly are and how much suffering these crimnals cause. -- If ANYTHING is ever done.....it's kept VERY VERY QUIET, UNKNOWN ABOUT, and so NOBODY EVER KNOWS WHAT THE HELL IS EVER GOING ON.

There has been lately in West Australian NEWS, more instances and revelations of just HOW BAD aboriginals are....the men, the women, the younger ones......it's because they are ALL offsprings of criminals who grow up to be criminals and want to be nothing else but preying upon all others and getting ANYTHING they shout about or else they go even MORE beserk and smashing stuff and preying upon people smashing them up.

They used to blame alcohol for everything. Then they started blaming drugs on everything. But they ALL still do the same violent and criminal shit they've ALWAYS done. The only thing missing is guns. And already over the past few years there has been instances of Police and the abo's with guns, and people get shot and killed. - That's NOT local in the far flung country, but it's also been the case closer here.

And don't buy into any bullshit you hear from anyone about 'racism.' - They LOVE to use that as a pre-emtive excuse for everything to remain criminals.

Fliss knew about some of this herself, but it all was NEVER EVER as bad as when she was here.

Today, two came out of the abo crimnal household onto the streets amid a LOT of yelling and swearing. It was an abo man and an abo woman.

The woman was wheeling a two-wheeled basket trolley overflowing full of crap, whilst the abo man with her was carrying more stuff.

She VERY LOUDLY swore terribly and carried on, on the street, went down one end, they argued LOUDLY, then , marched all the way along the street up again and went to the Koongamia shops.

And THAT is the sort of shit that goes on that also upset dear Sam & Max a lot and upset them tonight not long just before it got dark.

And abo crims are breaking into peoples houses in nearby suburbs wearing the SAME shit that all the abo's wantonly wear to remain anonymous if caught on cameras, whilst other abos are stealing shit from food supermarkets at will. -- All the stuff you rarely hear about until weeks after it's happened. - I've been around in places where the latter has occurred MANY times.

And they make SURE they do this criminal shit EVERY fucking winter...EVERY WINTER....because when it's cold so they can use it as an excuse to wear LOTS of clothing to disguise their identities from cameras.

Fliss only has a very LITTLE taste of all this from the jobs she had in Western Australia, of having to deal with criminal abo's. - All that criminal abo shit has gotten a HELL OF A LOT WORSE.

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It's VERY VERY COLD, even COLDER OUTSIDE THIS HOVEL.

And Sam & Max almost refuse to go outside, wasting time, so when they DO go out, it's fucking raining and COLD AGAIN. They get wet. They get COLD. They get miserable AGAIN...STILL.

No matter what I do, no matter what....I always get the fucking blame.

I try to dry them and towel them dry. - BOTH DOGS viciously growl at me.

Fliss does NOT care about them. She may bleat to others that she does care about dogs and animals but the truth is that in reality it seems she DOES NOT.

She has shown she does NOT care about animals, does NOT care about people,...and still people flock to her and fawn all upon her.

And I continually are left totally alone and left to fend and do everthing for myself no matter how struggling I am, no matter how alone I am, no matter how much pain I have, now matter how little money I have, no matter how huge the bills I get are that have to be paid, no matter how much the dogs get vicous.....I get NO HELP AT ALL.

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P@23:19 (coming up to midnight soon). - Sam is whining and crying VERY loudly in this hovel that has no heat at all. And BOTH dogs may very well stay outside in the terrible cold and rain and darkness ALONE if they become vicious again. - I love you dear Fliss and want to be with you, just as you PROMISED US. - If I leave the gate open, both dogs will take off and run to find you in vain. They will be caught and killed. Or they will be run over and killed. Or run over and crawl away and die a lonely death in the cold and wet to be crawling with maggots and ants throughout their dead bodies. - And whilst you dote upon other peoples dogs and inane cats, you care nothing about them and me? - You are currently proving to the world the very things that I helped you for so many years prove to everyone that you supposedly were not. - And you wonder why people you know keep asking me about you? - I love you dear Fliss and want to be with you. - Sam is crying a helluva lot now, and so I'm going to try to let them outside one last time into the cold and wet. I'm feeling VERY VERY cold. I will not get warm in bed. There is NO heater at all in this hovel. I gave SO MUCH away to charity in late 2015 JUST AS YOU REQUESTED ME TO DO prior to me supposedly joining you in Tamworth, New South Wales, Australia.

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