#now that i think about it maybe the bad ones are the exceptions

[fairuzfan]

About liberal Zionists.

First, Zionism is a nationalistic ideology so we have strike one for how they constantly feel "betrayed" by leftism. But also, when I go to the blog of a liberal queer rights, equal rights for all Zionist there are some things I noticed.

Zionist 1 has mostly agreeable positions in their own thoughts and reblogs. They want the sufferings of the Palestinians to end but have mostly shallow ideas on how that could be accomplished because the central violence that the state Israel enacts on the Palestinians is invisible to them except a short "the settlements are bad". They accept that Gaza is suffering too much but stay clear to call it a genocide.

Zionist 1 often reblogs from Zionist 2.

Zionist 2's opinions and reblogs are now way less agreeable. When I say "agreeable" I mean agreeable to a nominal western, white, somewhat leftist audience. Z2 openly has nationalistic views, everything starts on 7.10 except Hamas was always bad. Some denialism on past Israeli atrocities. Calls Jews critical of Israel "self-hating" without pause. When the topic of genocide comes up they say it doesn't exist. Maybe they criticise Netanyahu.

Z1 makes sure that only some of Z2' thoughts and reblogs end up their own blog.

Z2 often reblogs from Z3 who is an open, flag waving, idf idolising, arab hating islamophobe. They don't care about civilian casualties because in their opinion there are no civilians and/or they deserve it for electing Hamas and not fighting against Hamas right this second. The hostages are worshipped, just like every political decision of Israel, current past future. They deny that a genocide is happening but only on the word alone because they wish that everyone in Gaza should die and disappear.

Z2 makes sure that only some of Z3 thoughts and reblogs end up on their own blog.

And this is how supposed liberal or leftist Zionists regurgitate far right fanaticism even if not openly all the time.

You distilled this perfectly, this is exactly why I dislike so many liberal zionists on here. They straight up reblog from people who were genocide deniers and those people reblog from outright fascists. Like yeah if I see you make community with people who spout zionist beliefs then I'm considering you a zionist, even if you deny it.

Also the liberal zionists always talk about how we should "stop dehumanizing Israelis for the actions of their governments" when we very much can see the way Israelis perpetuate the colonization of Palestine. Oh and they also don't think palestine is colonized by Israel.

But yeah this is exactly it thank you anon.

[adoregojo]

★- haunted by the trails of you.

a/n: here's some more angst i had in drafts and now I'm setting it free. wanted more pain but this what yall are getting for now d: (potentially getting a part two)

summary: their first anniversary without you, and you'd still be haunting them. !! gn reader!! characters: isagi, reo, rin. warnings: men. hurt/barely an comfort, the word 'vomit', blood mentions in rin's part, appear of other characters. perhaps heavy angst?

isagi: it was at his own home. for what he can fathom, isagi isn't considered as someone who's hooked on the past. at least that's what he pinned his head to. what had chronicles should've been a lesson, something that'll help him move forward, a memory that'll get him through to his feet again.

once the past had been written, there was no undoing. only exceptions and take the moral out of it.

sometimes isagi wished he had tugged on that enough as much as he tugged his heart to yours.

he was about to send himself a clout. has he learned nothing? why can't he draw a clear line without the ghost of you obsessing in every corner of his life? so instead, he botches his hair to untidy navy-blue locks flying out of place, mumbling cusses to none other than himself.

He bet he looked like a madman, uttering loathes undertone within every step upon a stair he took. He swore he spotted a middle aged lady covering her son's ears in horror. maybe he wasn't muttering as low as he thought.

it was saturday, in which isagi takes a day off to greet his parents from time to time. and he wasn't gonna cancel that over some feelings he might've got the wrong end of the stick about, it was probably just lingering lust and affection he had for you, but I'll past. clinging to the mere possibility and ignoring the ache that remains for too long than intended.

swirling the keys with his bare hands, isagi can view the frigid smoke of his breath appearing with every puff he let out. the tips of his fingers and knuckles were embarrassing standing out an angry shade of red, he forgot his gloves, again ,recalling: yoichi never really had to bat an eye when it comes to gloves. he'll even do it on purpose since you wouldn't think twice before launching yours to his frosty hands, while interlocking your hands with the other one.

now that he mentioned it, he always recollect how futile of an attempt it was. because the back of his hand will always remain polar, but at that time, it didn't carried a feather. he didn't really mind freezing to death if it meant I'll be in your arms. then he'll die any day.

isagi remains stationary, until his forehead rests the irony of his house door. he didn't know if he was deeply disappointed in himself, or just drowned by the sweet bygone days. gabbling something about how an idiot he was before taking a deep lungful of air and finally opening the door.

flinging his shoes to gods knows where, at this state even his mother's berating wouldn't budge a bone in him, yeah, this is how bad it was.

to his astonishment, there were no trails of his parents. isagi called, shouting once, twice. and gave up on the third time. he jogs around to the kitchen era, like expected: a dangling note covering some plate, informing him that they went out and they'll be back before dinner. 

isagi just let out a defeated sigh, an obvious pessimistic wave looming over him. he was genuinely hoping to spend a family-time right away, and something to divert him away from the wraith of you.

a part of him wondered, what answer could he hand his parents, breaking the fact that you two were no longer together. his parents always loved you, adored you even. they'd definitely be shattered, he'll just muddle it by saying that you two drew apart till an ultimate downfall drilled up a hole in your relationship, leading to a break up. they’ll buy it, right?

blindly, isagi carried out the plat, slamming it flatly against the wooden table of the living room. making himself comfortable on the couch that held on the glimpse of his childhood, it was a pleasant to be at home again, and one of a great distraction.

he needed it.. anything to sway him away from the remainder of what name of this day earned..

from the corner of his eye, he spotted a second note. scoffing at himself isagi gets a grasp on it, living on the thought it might've been his parents requesting him to do chores, or just asking him to take extra care of himself. 

isagi consulted it, even when a part of him begged him not to.

‘dear, yocchan. we really hope you'll be the one to read this, but if not! hello yoichi’s partner, that's quite embarrassing if you're reading this hahaha. but anyway, we figured that today is your two anniversary, isn't that just great? We remember just yesterday they were being introduced to us for the first time. What a good time to be alive, but anyway. There's some surprise cake for the two of you to share! Happy anniversary, you lovebirds.- your mother (in law).”

‘don't get too carried away please! - your father (in law).”

isagi flouts, bitterly. so sorely that all the rock-hard grip of his hand went straight to poor paper, ripping it apart to fall into small chunks. the stomach-bug swirl, not the one with the butterflies plopping in the depths of his stomach, swarming with to define a new level of bliss. but a disgusting ache of venom mobbing, making him want to vomit in an instant. 

if it wasn't for his neighbors, isagi would've outcry his lungs out of frustration. but he wasn't on the field, where his anger planted. Now it's just a sad smile etching on his features. 

and maybe a drip of a few tears..

how long were you planning on haunting him for..

reo: he had to delete it.. for the longest period, reo had never been so glued on what he busted by his own hands, words and ego. he had no one to blame but himself, and yet no amount of strength that earth granted him, no matter how the sky have bore in tears gleaming the ground, a pool of agony cries pleading for him to do it.

all that and he’d still struggle to press the delete button. He just couldn't.

“man, just delete it already.” chigiri cried out, slamming his palms against the skin of his forehead. He was tired. and he wasn't even getting paid to deal with this shit.

“it's easier for you to say it, you don't get it.” reo sassed back, trudging inches away from the redhead who's eyes twitched in disbelief. 

nagi and chigiri一well, mostly chigiri, have been summoned by a cry for help from their shared friend. just for the end of the world to be him trying to delete the pictures and videos of you and him, his ex that lived in his head rent free. 

it was a wretched sight to see, his eyes were tearing up while scrolling through your memories together. chigiri一god’s greatest soldier, was really, really doing everything he can to encourage reo back on his feet. It was like helping a spineless creature to straighten up. 

it's quite impressive, he can use all his abilities on soccer pitches, give his best assists, be the heart, the mind and the soul of the field. Yet behind the plate was a completely different person, a hopeless guy curled up in a ball of your blanket that carried most of your left cologne, and sobbing till the sunrise. and today was a special show, he was absolutely shattered because your scent was slowly vanishing. 

all chigiri can do is pinch the bridge of his nose in foiling, “listen, how about we go out or something? there's a nearby place we can get lunch and-”

“they used to love that restaurant¦” reo whines, shoving his phone into the redhead face, it carried a picture of you smiling blissfully and unaware, cheeks rife with food. “they're.. cute, so cute it makes me want to die.” falling backwards on the silky duvet of the queen-sized bed. 

“Please don't, I still need my monthly allowance on genshin.” the one time nagi decided to finally say something, it had to be this. and chigiri never wanted to zip up someone's mouth so badly.

“you keep on stabbing yourself in the throat, you dumbass. if you can't do it then I'll do it for you.” stretching out his arm, opening up his palms for reo to hand over the phone and get this over with already.

in an instant, the phone was being embraced tightly to his chest, “no! I can do it myself, I just need some time," Chigiri just raised his hands in surrender, mumbling a quick ‘whatever’ as he jumped out the bed, leaving the extra space for his friend to grieve, alone.

it was a miracle that his tears still remain un-parched. Every photo he scroll through, the lump in his throat narrows painfully. clinching his lips upwards every time he crossed over while you were smiling, it hurts so good. He doesn't recognize whatever the knot in his stomach was reducing in sorrow or ecstatic.

he wasn't trashing any of those, he couldn't find it in his heart too. instead of criticizing himself of what he should've said to make you stay, what could've he done to swoon your heart instead of fleeting it. you'll keep on tip-toeing around his heartstrings and he'll let you without a charge.

he squeaked in his pillow, he just kept on bruising himself, torturing himself by the dim memory of what the two of you had once. something that not even money could regain or even soothe on. he yearned for one more kiss, one more embrace, one more chance to get a glimpse of you and he'll die a happy man, that's a lie, he'll misses you even after death.

he wished for you to come and haunt him, eat him to bits. but it was like he was the one haunting the crumbs of you.

on the middle of his groaning mess, an amber eyes staring sharply at him, his figure casting a shadow over his state. “here, drink up.” nonchalant, he handed him a random juice he ‘eeny, meeny’ his way to. reo accepted the drink, his arm sluggishly taking it. chigiri swore he was about to crack the glass over his head if he wouldn't stop this pitiful little act of his.

“why are you even this hardcore sad? you were never like this in the last weeks.”

“it's their anniversary, but not anymore I guess.” nagi shrugged, still too focused on the screen of his phone to pay the slightest amount of attention. turning a blind eye when reo flinches a bit at his truthful words 

“have anyone told you you're a terrible human being?” 

one sip, a second one. and his lilac eyes were watering for a million time. “they used to love this drink.” he whispered.

“i genuinely hope you choke on it.” 

rin: it got so bad, he talked to sae about it.. running a few years backwards, if you told the sixteen years old itoshi rin he'd be seeking his own deadbeat of a brother to vent he'd spit out in your face with no second thought.

and if he could, he would've. because rin was rethinking his life choices, taking a step back every second yet taking two ahead then comprehending once again. and now there was no going back, what was between him and the urgent fate was a wooden door. 

his hands buried deep in his pockets instead of making an attempt to knock. he found gazing at his pair of shoes much more entertaining. 

he didn't have it in his head to think straight, not when you clouded over like an angry storm, all he can do is take it and let your teardrop roll down his face, or maybe they were his own tears, he couldn't savvy it. 

after a deep lungful of air, rin thrust his forward, just an inch away, only to stop briskly. sae? really? just how desperate is he? very. he come to cuss himself for counting you as the one and only person he apostrophizes with. if only he’d listen when you would rant about him approving his social skills, he should've listened instead plugging his ears. He wished he listened to a lot of things you said..

in a rush, the door unlocked in a swift. almost making him funk backwards, unraveling the sight of his older brother, standing unimpressed. and before rin could speak a word, sae took the lead. 

“you know I could see your shadow casting under my doorstep, right?” 

Rin clicks his tongue in annoyance, and when he doesn't reply, the reddish head moves to the side, and rin steers his way in. shutting the door behind him, sae jog away, letting him take off his shoes. not even a proper welcome, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

the apartment was quite tidy, a strong aroma loomed underneath his nose. Despite that, it was awkwardly dull, not even ghosts would bother haunting it. rin takes a seat in a solo couch, fumbling his fingers in a bothersome way, the silence was a deadline, not anything he wasn't used to.

It was just the first time rin had come here, by himself. without an actual family required to stick to the back. 

or without you.

unintentionally, Rin's leg keeps thrusting. a bad habit of his when the tension gets thick. every passing second he berates himself even further, damn him for having only one path to seek solace in, for allowing only one soul to soothe over his frail heart, for authorizing only one embrace to delay him.

and damn you for carving open his heart. just to leave him to bleed.

the echoing steps of sae cut his strails of thoughts. settling down his cup of hot tea. rin raised a brow at the uncivil manner. “you didn't ask for one.” his brother shrugs calmly, oh he was driving him nuts with this unchanged attitude. 

breathe in, rin.

reverberating voice called, so he obeys. straighten his pouster. “I wanted to talk to you about something. it's important.” 

“I can tell. and your sidekick is nowhere to be found, did they finally ditch you?”

his hands clutching up in a makeshift ball, rin says nothing.

“oh, so they did?” sae blows a few times over the overheated cup, taking a sip then uttering something under his breath. “Well, that's unfortunate.” adding another cube of sugar as he retorted. 

rin only got something out of this, that his brother didn't give a single fuck. and it drove him to the edge.

“You can at least pretend that you care.”

“never said I didn't.”

“you didn't have to, it's fucking showing.” rin seethed, his clenched hand striking the table balance, making the sugar cubes fall out of place. his anger was collapsing even the sweetest floras.

that doesn't nuge sae the slightest, but makes him frowns his brows a bit, because he was the one who had to sweep that off later.

the tension was solid and bulky, and Rin refused to break eye contact with the equal hues. Daring him to say something, anything. Yet he took it as a challenge, like he always does. The only way he communicates with sae is by beating him, proving himself. He'll die on that hill, even if it killed him itself. even if it has killed you already.

he knew this was a stupid idea, he should've just rotted in bed, he should've kept on living in the repeated circle of misery. He should've just lived up with every rush of breeze rustling his mistakes over and over, where he could've sworn that it was your voice.

breath, rin.

he was fucking trying. 

“So what do you want me to do about it? be your wingman and pair you together again?” 

“or, you could just say nothing. listening is enough.”

after a moment of silence, sae shoulders ease up. a guster pointed for him to keep going. so rin dose, he rants and rants like he had the time of the world right in his palms. It was mostly about you, how you were something that became his everything, how he should've stopped you like he wanted to, how he let you be driven away like he always does, how he should've apologized like he was supposed to. 

blustring about ‘what the if’s’ and what would've happened if he just.. he loved you like you loved him.. if only he tried. he can't blame it on his immense ego, his lack of communication, the digged hole on his soul that you bleeded to fill, you gave all your flesh till there was nothing left but bones.

he could've rebuilt the broken pieces of your heart, but they were too sharp to hold. He bled within every one, he was bleeding to ashes, to nothingness. 

you loved till there was nothing left to love about you. you drained down the hill. not even his blood could fulfill you.

his voice would crack, a dust cloud blows over his eyes, yet sae would stare at him ever so flatly. if he even dares to say disappointment. disappointed that his younger brother was just a copy past of him. 

someone that kills everything he touches.

When rin has nothing left to say, sae stands up. reaching his pocket for a card that carries a name and a number. as the dark-head flipped the card between his fingers, blood-thirst eyes narrowed at him.

“a fucking therapist? are you fucking kidding me?"

“you clearly need one.”

“I don't, is this some kind of lukewarm joke?”

“stop being corny, I'm trying to help you here. if you aren't willing to let yourself feel the sense of loss, you can suit yourself out.”

and with that, sae turns his back to him. like he always does. climbing the stairs to his bedroom, leaving rin to reconsider where his actions have driven him, how beyond it threw it all. 

although, he’ll never let himself feel the sense of loss. never. He'd rather be haunted by you than be alone forever, he'll be a stray till you pick him up again.

lmao wrote this with nagi plushie watching me like a hawk

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #reo x reader #isagi x reader #rin x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #reo mikage x reader

[jakes3resin]

Hmmm thinking thoughts about Modern Clegan Break Up Fight AU

Just the pair getting into a fight because Bucky wants to go public about their relationship, but Buck doesn't understand why. Their close friends know, and they know. Who else needs to know? Buck asks this, and Bucky says he wants everyone to know. He wants to do all the cheesy romance shit like meeting the parents and siblings and stuff. Bucky wants to go to parties or events with Buck as his date. He wants to go out on public dates where people see them and know. Buck says he likes their private dates, and he likes how they don't have to be a side show for the people they go to school with (university not high school).

They go back and forth until finally Bucky bursts out that he wants everyone to know because he doesn't want to be the one left behind anymore. Bucky's the good time guy, or so everyone who's ever hooked up with him or gone out with him has said. He's scared that Buck will eventually agree with them (like Buck ever would but Bucky is scared). So now he wants to prove to Gale that he's serious about this, serious about them.

But, Buck's scared in his own way. His dad's still in the picture, and he would rather die than let his shitty excuse for a father anywhere near Bucky. Because his dad is the type to show up and try to teach the boy dating his son a lesson. Except he doesn't say that to Bucky. He says John I don't want to go public with this.

Poor Bucky takes that the exact wrong way. Usually he can read Buck like the back of his hand, but right now he's too emotional and stuck in his own head. He can't see past the facade right now. They start to really argue, building off of each other's energy until finally Bucky says that he can't be with someone who feels like they have to hide being in love with him.

Bucky storms out saying they're over. Heads back to his apartment where he tries to calm down and breathe. He goes and drinks some water to calm down. Except he accidently slices his hand open dropping his water glass. He gets blood all over his bathroom trying to fix it. That's how Curt finds him.

Curt is Bucky's roommate. He wasn't even supposed to be there that weekend. He was actually supposed to be in a different state for a concert the next night, but he forgot his wallet and turned back around after only being on the road for an hour. He finds Bucky bleeding and crying his eyes out, telling himself that that's what he gets for trying to be more than a good time. Curt goes into lockdown mode cause that's bullshit. He cleans Bucky up, and when Bucky looks at him with bright teary eyes and says he and Buck broke up, it's heartbreaking. Bucky sniffles and says he doesn't know what to do because he can't face anyone after this. Curt stuffs Bucky into his car and books it. Bucky forgets his cellphone in the apartment in the rush to get out of there. He realizes it a few hours later when it's too late to turn back.

Buck, meanwhile, has had his panic attack and calmed down. He knows that neither of them were in a good place for that argument, and he gives Bucky some space (a few hours) before he shows up to try and talk to him again. Only Bucky isn't at his apartment, and when Buck can't find him at any of the parties or bars on campus or with their mutual friends, he starts to get scared. Bucky's phone goes straight to voicemail over and over again. Buck goes back and breaks in (uses the spare key Bucky gave him) only to stumble upon an apartment trashed and covered with blood. He freaks out and calls everyone he can think of. Everyone joins the search, and it turns into a whole thing.

Hospitals get called, and then the cops get called, who since they're college town cops are suitably useless. Buck spends the next three days thinking Bucky hurt himself or was hurt bad enough he can't make it to one of their friends or a hospital.

Bucky is having a lovely time by the way. He managed to get a ticket to the concert, maybe Curt had an extra, and it's a great band. He's still heartbroken, but sometimes you just have to scream along to some artist you only learned about yesterday cause it's better than crying. He and Curt end up so hungover the next day that they don't get on the road back to their university until it's super late. They don't tell anyone they got back in town and pass out not knowing everyone in their life thinks Bucky is missing.

Bucky shows up to classes the next day, and he doesn't understand why Brady loses his shit when he sees Bucky walking around campus like their entire friend group hasn't been losing their shit all weekend. Brady drags him away even though Bucky's whining about missing his morning class.

Big reunion scene back at Bucky's apartment where Buck breaks down in tears because he's just so fucking relieved Bucky is okay. They work through their shit, and Bucky has to promise never to go on anymore impromptu road trips.

#okay so i have disappeared after bad break ups so to me this isnt so out there #but also i know that doing so is not a normal or healthy response to breaking up with your so #do better than bucky and i folks #also curt blocked buck's number immediately after bucky said they broke up because buck didnt want to go public #he stands on principle also its so he could resist leaving death threats in Buck's inbox for making bucky doubt his worth #so thats why buck couldnt just call him and ask where bucky was #mota #masters of the air #buck x bucky #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #is this dramatic? yeah but i enjoyed writing it so whatever

[wormdebut]

LET DOWN AND HANGING AROUND (CRUSHED LIKE A BUG IN THE GROUND)

Ahoy! This is my first VERY LATE ficlet for @corrodedcoffinfest ! My absolute bad for being so late, but BOY am I HAPPY TO BE HERE!

Warm Up Prompt One: Taxed. Word Count: 1000 (scrivener says 1000 Wordcounter says 979. IDK Man, it’s within limit), Rating: T, Pairing: None, CW: Swears, Smoking, Angst Tags: Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak

----

October 1987

They've been at this for fucking years. Eddie feels like a fucking girl scout.

'Well hello there Mr. Music Man, would you like to buy a box of shitty garage band metal?'

Except they weren't fucking shitty. All of the guys had been working their assess off, writing, playing shows, shitty gig after shitty gig after shitty gig.

But they haven't managed anything. Nothing, zilch, nada.

They had a small crowd showing up at the Hideout, and the owner, Benny, started letting them play not only their usual Tuesday but because Eddie had been helping him with placehe was letting them play Saturday nights now too, which was great because while he appreciates the likes of his uncle and Wayne's best friends on Tuesdays, there were almost twenty people every Saturday night and that was something.

They also had a standing gig at a bar in Indianapolis at least once a month, lately they've been playing The Barrel every other week and Eddie thought--he thought--that that would get them somewhere.

The guys were fucking exhausted but Eddie kept pushing because they could do this. Corroded Coffin was great. They were great and somebody was going to see that…right?

Eddie saw what they had. He did. But the guys--

"C'mon Ed, we can't keep sneaking Gareth into bars forever. I think we need to--maybe consider other options or--" Jeff rambles. They were supposed to be practicing but Jeff Williams had to swoop inwith his stupid common sense bullshit. Jeff motherfucking Williams is one of the best guitarists Eddie has ever had to the privilege of listening to, but Jeff wants to go college like a real boy!

Gareth cuts him off, "It's just the two bars man, and I have a fake, if I need it anyw--"

Would you look at that, it's time for Freddy to cut in. "Yeah, but you're three feet tall and have the face of a newborn child."

Gareth shoves at Freddy's chest. "Oh fuck off, man. At least I'm not a virgin!" He yelps and great. This is great.

Now the band is fighting, again, because Jeff wants to go to College, Goodie is a Virgin, and Gareth is short.

Eddie just want to play music.

If they all want to yell, Eddie can yell louder. "See. Do you see what happens when you start talking about 'other options' Jeff? Chaos--and not the fun kind!"

"See, Eddie--this is the fucking problem with you. All you care about is your music, your dream, It's all about you!"

Jeff is yelling at Eddie, Gareth and Freak are rough housing, how did this even happen. All Eddie wants is to do something. Be something. He believes in this, in Jeff, and Freddy and Gareth, in the band.

And he gets that everyone is taxed, tired. Eddie is fucking exhausted. Gareth is trying to not fail his senior year. He gets it, he does, but-- "You know what, Jeff?" His voice breaks, and isn't that fucking humiliating? "Some of us, don't have college as an option. Did you ever consider that?"

Eddie leans over and grabs his cigarettes from the table, before shoulder checking Jeff as he leaves.

——

What’s the fucking point? Eddie puts everything into lyrics that people probably don't even know, all of them spend hours writing and harmonizing, making sure chords make sense, just for everything to be a pipe dream. They haven't taken a break for anything. It's either work or school or Coffin Shit. They haven't played D&D in months. They've just been doing this.

But it's all Eddie has. How the hell was he ever going to get out of shitty ass Hawkins, if it wasn't this way? He didn't exactly ace his finals--even the third time around. Honestly? He's pretty sure they just let him pass, to get him the fuck out of there.

He lights up what feels like his eighth cigarette--it's not, it's his second--and stares out to the empty street. They use Gareth's garage to practice…for being as straight laced as she is, Ms. Emerson sure does believe in the band.

Dottie Emerson and Eddie. God dammit, maybe Jeff is right.

He should go back, he should go back and apologize, and let this go. He has the job at the Hideout, he can save and maybe move to Indy--play an acoustic at some bars or…something.

God, he's just so tired of this shit.

He finishes his cigarette, and tries to breathe. Breathe in--hold--breathe out--he doesn't realizes Jeff until he taps his shoulder.

"Hey." Jeff says, quiet. Eddie, just nods, grabs his pack and offers a cancer-filled olive branch. Jeff takes it.

Eddie doesn't say anything. Doesn't want to, doesn't know what he should say.

So Jeff does. "I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't mean to make you upset. I'm just fucking tired man, we all are and I do want this, I do, but it's fucking scary." Eddie turns, watches Jeff blow out smoke. "I got accepted to IU, did you know that?"

Eddie blinks. He did not know that. "No, you hadn't mentioned it."

Jeff turns to look at him, "I didn't want this to happen."

Eddie closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath. In--hold--out. "You should go." He forces a smile, watches as Jeff's eyes shine for a moment--no wonder he had that silly crush on him his second senior year, but it was only for like a week, leave it alone--before he srunches his face up, Eddie can't help but laugh. Jeff always does that, when he's stressed. It makes him look like a rabbit.

Jeff goes to speak, but Eddie cuts him off. "Let's do this Halloween show, it'll be our going away gift to our tens of adoring fans."

Jeff laughs at that, nods, and pulls Eddie into a hug.

Everything will be fine, with or without Corroded Coffin.

#worm brain #everyone buckle up cause I'm determined to knock all of these out #they will follow a story line BUT also stand alone #so note that even though eddie thinks this is the end thats a big fat lie #Steve is out there somewhere #and so will Corroded Coffin being famous as fuck #I promise #eddie munson #stranger thing #stranger things ficlet #pre steddie #cause BOY WILL THEY BE HERE #Corroded Coffin #All the boys. They are all here and they be fighting #corrrodedcoffinfest #worm coffin verse

[watchoutforthefanfics]

the apple pie life for me (and you) // Dean Winchester x Castiel (SPN)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Cough Syrup - Glee Cast (Cover)

Summary: One minute, Castiel is confessing his love as he sacrifices himself, so Dean can live. The next, Dean is dead, and Castiel's avoiding him in Heaven. Or maybe Dean's avoiding him. Dean has probably never been more confused in his life, feelings for his best friend and all.

TWs: kinda angst, mentioned vomit, very slightly alluded child abuse (john winchester), a little bit of yelling, sort of suicidal thoughts (like yeah, but he's already dead), cursing, crying, low self-worth, mention of self-sacrifice, Dean is bad at feelings (and so is Cas), avoidance, mention of death, and confrontation.

[[A/N: This is a finale fix-it, but with the finale still canon, if you will. Except Dean doesn't like just drive until Sam dies. This actually ripped out my soul and shoved it back in. I felt possessed writing this. Also, let Dean say fuck. Anyway. This shit will fuck you up, but it's a happy ending !!! Anyway, enjoy :))) ]]

Dean doesn't think he wanted to die.

But he's not really sure. And he kinda feels like that's something you should be sure about.

As he cruises along in Baby with no place to go, but also somehow having somewhere in mind, he just keeps thinking about it.

Lots of things, really. Chuck, everyone disappearing, Jack, Sammy back on Earth (he thinks he's always gonna worry about him), and... and Cas.

See that's... that's where his mind hitches.

Because otherwise, after Jack took over, Dean thought things were going pretty good. Great, even. Him and Sammy doing the same thing it all started with. (Sans the Dad thing, probably for the best, but still-)

But, the more he thinks about it now, where there is nothing but the road, Baby, and him... That life, that wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't living how he wanted to. Sure, he wanted Sammy in it, but to say he still wanted to be a hunter?

When he thought about it, it kinda felt like he was still playing the role that Chuck had carved out for him. He knows he had free will then, he knows Chuck wasn't in charge, but he just... That role was comfortable, familiar, and he thinks maybe... both him and Sam just fell right back into it.

And then, there's the just him and Sam thing. It started like that, yeah, and don't get him wrong, he loves Sammy. (It's probably in his bones now, it's so ingrained in his friggin' DNA.) But it wasn't just him and Sammy, not anymore.

So, how can everything be 'goin' good' when you're missing pieces, people?

Like Jody and the girls, Garth and his family, Eileen, Jack and... and Cas.

So, even though, Jack fixed it all, it was still kinda like him and Sam were the only ones on the planet. Alone.

He wasn't happy with what he was doing, he was missing people like hell, and his brain was in near-constant turmoil because... because his best friend was dead. And it wasn't like he tried to stop it, live like how Castiel wanted him to. What he died for.

But he just couldn't. How the hell was he supposed to live happily when Cas was dead? Because of him, of all things.

So, maybe... maybe he did want to die.

Dean doesn't think it's only the Cas... thing, he thinks it's a lot of things (probably). But, he thinks him not being there is really what makes it all so wrong.

He thinks back to when Cas was dead before, when... when all he needed was a "damn win" and he got him back. Everything was so much better, even though shit hadn't been done about Chuck or any of their other problems. He had a damn win.

He's just starting to think that maybe he didn't need a win, maybe he needed Cas.

And maybe that's why the life he lived wasn't what he wanted. Maybe that's why it was so easy to die when he'd been fighting all his life to live freely. Escape whatever goddamn prophecies plagued his life, and live how he wanted to.

Team Free Will, he remarked somewhere in his head.

And yet, the only one living freely was Cas. Sam and Dean, written like damn books, apparently, but Cas?

Chuck said he never followed him, said that he had a "crack in his chassis" (whatever the hell that meant). And he'd even... the turning point for him was Dean. Goddamn "gripping him tight and raising him from perdition".

That was when he'd veered off the path Chuck had built for him, and out of the damn countless universes, this... his Cas was the only one who broke the cycle.

And then, he'd think back to the moment he died for the... for the last time. What he said, and how he said it, and even when Dean tried to twist it to something that wasn't so goddamn scary. He couldn't. Because he had said it clear as day.

And just telling him gave him 'true happiness' (like a damn fairytale). He didn't expect a response, or anything, just telling him. Dean couldn't wrap his head around it at all. Hadn't since the day he said it.

Every time he thought about both of them, Cas's... confession and Chuck's words, he connected the dots. He'd never let himself think about it, but now he had all the time in the world to. It's all he could do.

So, he let himself think it, just this once.

Cas... loving him, that wasn't planned. That was all Cas. This Cas. His Cas.

He maybe even loved him so much that it broke god's will.

How was Dean supposed to handle that? Digest that? When seconds later, Cas was dead. Even now, he couldn't-

There was a house.

To his left, it had been miles of just meadows and fields, and now... now there was a house. A white house, that you sort of just pictured in your head when you imagined a 'family home'. It looked kind of oddly like his house when he was a kid, but also not at all.

It had a white picket fence and a big yard. It had all the works.

The apple pie life, his mind chimed.

Dean paused a moment, wondering if this was someone else's. His eyes peered around it, focusing on the long, empty driveway (the kind that was half dirt and half rocks). And he came up decidedly empty.

He took a breath, and mumbled low (maybe to make sure he could still talk), "'S worth a shot."

Flinching a little at Baby bumping along the rocks, Dean slowly crept up to the house. Eyeing it the whole time, as if it would change when he looked away. Or maybe like it wouldn't feel right halfway up the driveway.

But, he felt the same all the way through.

Dean pursed his lips, staring at the white shingles and the big porch with two rocking chairs -one on either side.

It was two stories, but still small. And it wasn't perfect either, not like out of one of those friggin' house magazines where everything seemed so clean, it was almost scary. There were scuffs and marks, and the grass grew too high right next to the steps.

He took a breath, and stepped out of Baby, throwing the keys around his fingers on instinct. The jingle was the only noise that filled the air then.

It was crazy how much the air smelt the same, felt the same. He could see the wind shift the blades of grass and the branches of the trees, it felt so much like... home.

Even though Dean had never seen this house before in his life, it felt like home.

That... That feeling was new.

He let his eyes surf over the land a second, before catching on a barn -rundown and hidden behind the house. And even though it was, Dean traced the driveway all the way back to it.

Letting himself take one last look at the house, he slowly trailed back to the barn. Feet crushing over rocks and twigs, he truly had never felt more alive. Ironically.

It wasn't the long stretch of road, the slick seats of Baby, or the low hum of the engine. It was the sound of birds, the smell of flowers, and the fresh air. Dean nearly almost bent down to get dirt on his hands just to feel it again, instead of the smooth steering wheel he knew so well.

He didn't though, and instead, approached the barn. Somewhere in his head, it rang familiar. He wasn't sure why or how, but as he walked through the door it just... he knew it.

And as his footsteps echoed through the air, it hit him.

Dean spun around on his feet and looked toward the door, almost on instinct.

He did know this barn. It was where he... where he first met Cas. He remembers it more with all the sigil and black paint everywhere, but looking back at the door, at the lights-

He laughed a little, the dramatic son of a bitch.

Dean cut himself short, watching the doors. Maybe he was expecting something, someone, but he'd never say it out loud. He couldn't, not now.

Cas had been right there.

And there was a part of him that wished he still was.

He took a deep breath through his nose, wondering what exactly he was going to do with it. Or if he was just gonna keep it empty. Because...

He had the spare thought to make it into a kinda garage, build some shelves maybe, fill the walls with parts. He could pull Baby in, shelter her from the rain. If it did rain here. Somehow Dean hoped so. He wanted stuff like rain, snow, the crunching leaves, and the smush of mud under his shoe.

It was weird to say he wanted to feel human in Heaven, but he did.

Because when had he ever felt human? Really?

He wanted that. He wanted a lot of things now that could never have imagined back then. Or didn't think to, he guessed.

Patting one of the wooden walls, Dean made his exit.

His eyes lingered on the backyard for a moment, where the expanse of grass seemed larger, and in the corner, there seemed to be a fenced-off patch of dirt. Maybe for a garden.

He had never thought about having a garden, but he wasn't really against it either.

He looked at for a second, before thinking to himself. Cas would probably like that.

He had that bee thing, and bees like flowers, right? So, maybe he'd offer it to him. Let him have the space. It would be nice having him there, a little piece of him around him every day.

Because he knew that he was tinkering around somewhere, supposedly with Jack. And maybe... maybe it would be nice for him to have a break, a garden.

Dean bit his lip, tapping his foot a moment.

Was that what it was? Was that why you wanted him here, Winchester? Really?

He kept moving forward, steady steps back to the front of the house. For once in his life, there was no rush. He could take his time.

By the time he swung around to the porch, the wind had died down and left only the shining sun in its wake. It felt just like when the sun touched his skin on Earth, maybe even a little better. He liked it the same reason he liked everything else, just being human.

Dean moved up the steps, stairs creaking with every move and his hand drifting across the railing. It was imperfect with bumps and peeling paint, and he had a thought that maybe he could fix it one day. Maybe that's why the house is the way it is, so he could fix it.

Like maybe it had been built like that because he'd always wanted to do it. Fix up a house. Did Cas know that?

His eyes roamed over to the second rocking chair thoughtfully. He kind of had an idea of who he wanted there.

He let his fingers drift over the chair a moment, like maybe if he thought hard enough, he'd be there. Here.

Dean didn't think that he could talk to him, or maybe that he would be comfortable doing so. But that didn't mean he didn't want to friggin' see him, talk to him.

And even though it was scary as hell, he would talk about it if Cas wanted to. He just thinks that the natural progression is his response, and Dean... Dean wasn't sure he had one. Or maybe he had one, but he wasn't sure he could say it.

He was a damn coward.

Pulling open the door, Dean's eyes slunk along the walls. The first thing he saw was a hallway, softly colored walls, and frames along it. Stepping inside, he pulled the door closed behind him (on instinct) and drew his attention to the pictures.

A lot of them, he recognized.

Old pictures of him and Sammy, pictures of his Mom and Dad. But some, he hadn't.

His fingers trailed over a frame. It was him and Cas laughing in the bunker, he'd had no idea it was taken at all. It must've been Sam, but he'd never found the need to show him, apparently.

He had that sort of crinkly smile that he'd get sometimes, and Dean was saying something but he was laughing halfway through it. And Cas was just looking at him like he always did.

Ever since Cas's goodbye, he'd been rethinking everything he knew. Everything.

From the first time he saw him to the last, he'd looked through everything -trying to find it. Trying to see how he'd missed it for so long. And when he did, it was right damn in front of him.

That was probably what he hated this most, that he'd never seen it. Dean had never even thought of the possibility, only once or twice when some dick would make an offhand remark. (Which, when he looked back on it, happened a lot.)

And it has seemed just so far away. Impossible.

Maybe that wasn't because he hadn't... but because he was a broken human (past damn repair) and he was an angel of the Lord.

How could he love me?

And then, there was all that he said. That he believed Dean was so much better than he did. At his very core was love of all things.

"The one thing I want, I know I can't have."

Knows he can't have, it kept ringing through his head. As he wandered up the stairs, maybe even before that, when he was driving, and maybe even before that when it was just him and Sammy ganking bitches.

He didn't tell Sam, and maybe that was the biggest thing. Maybe he felt some guilt, or maybe... maybe he just wanted to keep it to himself. He wasn't sure.

Dean wasn't sure about any goddamn thing at this point.

He took a breath and peeked into the rooms. He didn't want to go fully in them, he wasn't sure why. But one of them, he recognized to be a guest bedroom. It was empty, except for a bed and a dresser -impersonal.

Maybe for Sammy someday.

There was a bathroom on the other wall, he thinks he has two. One downstairs and one up. (Maybe even three, he hasn't looked at his master bedroom yet.) He paused a moment, maybe imagining things on the sink. Imagining a rug he buys one day (do they even buy things? Or does he just think it into existence?). It was domestic, and Dean couldn't tell if he liked it or not.

He trailed down the stairs again, and just to his right, he saw another bathroom -right by the front door. It was empty again, except for the essentials. Toilet, shower, and sink. He didn't waste anymore time.

Across from it was, he guessed, the living room. And he kinda expected the same, just the essentials, maybe some fuzzy throw pillows that Dean would inevitably throw out. Maybe a rug he'd say he didn't like, but he'd keep it anyway.

But it wasn't.

Instead, Dean found something a lot more personal.

It was a big TV with shelves surrounding it filled with movies. And the more he looked at it, the more at it -they were his favorites. And on the wall under the window, there was a cassette player (no cassettes, but they were probably out in Baby) and to its left a mini fridge. Dean chanced a look in it and found his favorite type of beer. And under it, on one of the shelves was an unused record player. Beside both of them, there was one of those containers for vinyls (Dean had friggin' clue what it was called), and it was filled. He didn't have to look to know it was all his favorites.

There were bean bags piled in the corner like he'd have too many visitors for the couch. Or maybe they'd expect him to. Cas would expect him to.

Dean felt like his breath was shot out of his chest. A little like he couldn't friggin' breath.

His Dean-cave.

It was a damn upgrade, yeah, not with concrete floors and stuffy walls. But in essence the very same. Probably the perfect version of it in his head.

God, had Cas remembered that?

Remembered all of it? His favorite fucking songs, favorite movies, favorite shows- Had Cas remembered everything?

It made him want to throw up, or maybe like his heart was squeezed so tight in his chest that he felt like he might die. Again, he guessed.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Dean stared at the room, hand coming to rest on the back of the couch. He swallowed back the bile that was rising in his chest, it felt like his stomach was waves in the damn ocean.

He didn't know whether to cry or throw his guts up. It felt just like after Cas was taken by the Empty.

Like his world was shifting and crumbling all at once.

Dean stepped back a few steps and came up against the wall. His eyes burned.

He ran a hand through his hair, a little frantically, and tried to school the sob that climbed up his throat.

He's alive, he repeated to himself, Cas is fucking alive.

Some other voice chimed back, little and weak, But he's not here, is he?

He took in a deep breath, shaky, and leaned his head back up against the wall. Looking up at the ceiling, Dean thought maybe he felt tears roll down his cheeks.

He wanted to pray, bring him here. But what the hell would he even say?

"Hey buddy, confessing your love and fucking dying after wasn't very fun for me."

"What you did wasn't goddamn fair."

"I know you love me, but I don't understand it. I don't get it."

"How can you love me?"

"I think maybe I love you too."

His breath hitched in his chest.

He clenched his fist onto the wall, pounding it a few times. He heard the frames rattle in their places and felt the wood boards behind it under his hand.

Dean took a deep breath in and wiped at his eyes. Sniffling, he walked forward into the kitchen. Keep moving.

It was the cozy kind of kitchen, not the minimalist crap, with wooden cupboards and imperfect counters. The refrigerator had a few pictures stuck to it, held up by those damn alphabet magnets.

He just somehow knew that was Cas's idea.

And he laughed a little at it, taking one of them in his hands and rubbing his thumb over the shitty plastic.

His eyes smoothed over the space again, and he found something actually on the counter. He wasn't sure how he missed it the first time, but now, there was a slice of apple pie there. Probably the most picturesque one he'd ever seen. Heaven pie.

"Goddamn Heaven pie," he muttered, but he was smiling.

Before he could take a bite, of what he suspected might be the best pie in his life, he heard something.

A dog bark.

Dean nearly ran to the front door, leaving the pie stranded on the counter. Swinging the door open, he nearly stalled in place.

Miracle was there, yeah, and ran up to him a little like he was the only person in the world. It made his heart ache. But there was someone else.

"I've got a delivery," Charlie, his Charlie, smiled -grinned even.

"Charlie," he spoke, a little like it took everything in his chest to. She only smiled brighter.

Dean thought maybe he was crying, and he grabbed her in a hug. One that he thought may have been a little too tight but she didn't complain. She didn't say a word.

He put his chin on top of her head (just like he used to) and felt her hair (still short) under it. He used to do it to remember she was there, it felt like he was missing a fucking limb when he couldn't anymore. He never thought about the fact that maybe he could again one day.

It felt like everything in him was relieved, as if the tension had melted away. Somehow, someway, Charlie was exactly what he needed right now.

God, he hadn't even thought about her.

Well, he had. A lot. He thought about everybody he'd ever lost, that shit weights on your conscience. (Especially her.) But he'd never thought of her being up here, that he could see her again. Give her a goddamn hug-

He sniffled a little and dropped his mouth to kiss her on the forehead. She hugged him back just as tight, and he thought he might’ve heard her sniffle too.

Dean spoke before he could stop it, "I'm sorry."

"Dean, no," she pulled back, but didn't let go of his arms, "-you weren't- That wasn't your fault, you know that."

He was still crying, and maybe his voice was cracking, "I'm still sorry."

Charlie rubbed her hands down his arms for a minute, before changing the topic, "'Heard you took down God."

Dean laughed a little, wiping at his eyes, "Damn straight I did. Me, Sammy, and Jack."

"Would've loved to know him," she smiled -big and bright, "-but he's too busy for me now."

"Probably too busy to see me too," he offered, sniffling, "-if that helps you."

She shrugged, a little knowingly, "I think he'd make time if you asked."

He bit his lip a moment, thoughtfully, "Ya wanna come in?"

"Was waiting for that," she laughed, walking in -her eyes dipping over the walls, before waltzing into the Dean-cave, "-Look at your digs, Winchester! Not bad."

"It fit me?" He asked.

She turned to him then, grinning, "To a T."

He ran his tongue along his teeth, something heavy in his throat, "You know who made it?"

"I do," Charlie passively remarked, as Miracle ran up and jumped on the couch, "-We saw the house pop up a bit ago, not long, and we saw them out here, building it."

"Cas, yeah?" He asked like he didn't already know.

"Yup," she popped the 'p', running up to his shelves and seemingly skimming the titles, "-that and uh... Jack. But, mostly Cas."

She muttered something about 'shit, you have that one?', but Dean's mind was elsewhere.

"Do you," he started asking, swallowing kind of awkwardly, "-Do you see things on Earth? Like um... events, or conversations?"

"Only when we want to," she answered, still busy on the shelves (currently she was on her tippy-toes looking at the top one), "-I've been watching a few conventions over the years. Sometimes I peek in on you, or Sam, or Cas, for that matter. But I'm pretty content here."

Dean fell silent, fidgeting with his hands.

She turned to him, quirking a brow, "Why? Do you want to check in on Sam? It's pretty easy, actually-"

"Before," he started, and Charlie's lips snapped shut, "-Before the whole, uh, Chuck fight and Jack becoming... well, God. Cas died again."

"Shit," she spoke, "-how did he die?"

"Billie, ya know, Death, uh," he cleared as throat, and Charlie's eyes were on him (intently watching), "-she was after us. Me and Cas, and he... he sacrificed himself."

"Damn," she let out, "-have you seen him since Jack-"

"He didn't really... die," Dean kept going, maybe like he couldn't stop (he wanted to tell someone), "-There's this place where, uh, demons and angels go when they 'die'. From what I've heard, it's kinda like a void, an eternal sleep kinda deal."

Charlie pursed her lips a moment, maybe trying to decide if she should speak, "Yeah, I've heard rumors. Never been there of course, but um, yeah."

Dean bit his lip, and took a deep breath in.

"Dean," Charlie slowly stepped toward him, "-are you okay? Do you need to... sit down?"

"He made a deal," he continued, and maybe he wasn't looking at her but he really couldn't, "-Uh, the Empty, or the eternal sleep thing, um... would take him when he was the damn happiest he's ever been."

"And," she paused, laughing a little, "-how was he the happiest he's ever been when you were running from Death?"

Dean didn't say a word, and Charlie promptly cut her laughter short. The silence echoed a moment, and she stepped closer to him again (this was uncharted territory).

"Dean?"

He swallowed, his voice was a little scratchy now and his eyes burned, "He... He started this speech about- about me, and how good I was. That I wasn't just anger or... or hate like I thought. I was love, I raised Sammy for... for love, and do what I do, like stop the goddamn apocalypse, for love. That I was... the most selfless person he'd ever known-"

Charlie stayed quiet.

"-And he's lived millenniums," Dean laughed a little and it was wet (and maybe he was crying), "-I mean, how can that... how can that be true?"

"Dean," she leveled in a steady voice.

"And he just kept going," he laughed again, and he wiped at his eyes, "-and I couldn't say a goddamn word."

"Dean."

"And after all that," he felt a sob crawl up his throat, it shattered through his chest, "-after all that he told me he loved me. And just saying it, fucking telling me- That made him the happiest he's ever been."

Charlie's eyes were shiny, and she was looking at him a little like he would shatter at any second. But she didn't say a word.

"He said," he swallowed, his breaths shaky, "-He said that the one thing he wanted he couldn't have but I..."

He let himself say it, this once.

"Charlie, I-" he looked at her then, and she was frowning, her eyes were teary, "-I think he can have it. I think he-"

Dean took a breath, it shook through his lungs and laughed again -wiping at his eyes (like he wouldn't be crying if they didn't fall).

"-I think he's always damn had it."

There was silence then, and Dean didn't feel like he had anything else to say. Or maybe that he could say anything else. It felt like his soul had been ripped out of his chest-

Charlie seemed to take a minute to make sure, tediously stepping forward.

But when she realized he was, she pulled him into a hug again. This time though, she stood on her tippy-toes and pulled his head to her shoulder. Her hand cradling the back of his head, Dean followed her lead.

He took a breath in, that was just so Charlie, his Charlie, and it made his eyes fog up again.

She held him there a while, even though it couldn't have been comfortable. He knew that, but he couldn't be the one to pull away. Halfway because it was so long since he'd seen her, and halfway because he couldn't remember the last time he was held like this. Cared for like this.

"Did you," she started, slow and careful (gentle), "-Have you told anyone about this?"

"No, I... I died with it," he breathed out, "-I just... I couldn't tell Sammy-"

"Dean, hey," Charlie shooshed him, before joking lightly, "-that's okay. It just... It seemed like it was a little pent up."

Dean laughed a little, and she seemed to be happy about that.

"It was," he echoed out in the silence, "-I didn't... I didn't tell anyone."

"Well," she hummed, pushing her chin onto his shoulder, "-thank you for telling me."

Something in his chest softened.

"I think that's..." she spoke, gently, "-I think that's big for you. All of this is... is big for you."

There was a beat.

"You're doing your best, Dean," she soothed, squeezing him a little tighter, "-And maybe you didn't tell Sam, or tell Cas, but you did what you could. Everyone has their limits."

He let out a breath, less shaky this time, and dug himself further into her shoulder.

"That's nothing-" her hand rubbed against his back, "-That's nothing to be ashamed of."

He let the words sink into his skin.

"And quite frankly," Charlie quipped, "-your limit is way past mine. So, I can't judge."

Dean laughed again, and he could nearly feel her smile.

Thoughtfully keeping himself there for just a little longer, before pulling back. Sniffling and wiping at his eyes, Charlie stayed very close by, just in place for another hug.

"We good?" She questioned, a little playfully but on the same note, very serious.

"Yeah, yeah, we're uh-" he chuckled out, "-we're good."

"Can I..." she paused a moment, "-If you're not comfortable, don't answer it. But, is this your first... guy thing?"

Dean froze a little.

"You don't have to answer," she quickly added, "-at all. No pressure."

It's Charlie.

He ran his hand along his jaw, before rumbling out, "Kinda. I... When I was a kid, I knew, and maybe I even acted on it a little, but Dad..."

Charlie hummed in understanding, "He found out?"

"Yeah, uh," he spoke, suddenly awkward, "-I don't... I've never known how he figured it out. Or maybe he just... assumed, but he... yeah."

It was unspoken, and she seemed to understand.

"God," she asserted, maybe a little incredulously, "-he should really not be here."

Dean laughed a little, but something was heavy in his chest, "I don't know if I'd visit either of them anyway. Even without... this."

Charlie pursed her lips, "And you don't have to. It's your Heaven. If they... If they try to talk to you, let me know. I'll get a crew."

"A crew?"

"There's enough of us," she shrugged, "-He's an old man anyway, I'm sure I could take him."

He laughed a little again, "You'd be surprised."

She looked at him a moment like maybe that spoke louder than anything else he said. She squeezed his shoulder once, but gratefully, didn't say anything.

"And can I clarify something?"

Dean hummed.

"When Castiel..." she didn't say it, "-Did you not have time? Or were you just... scared?"

"A little bit of both," he answered, fingers tapping along the table by the couch, "-He said it, told me goodbye, and... and adios."

"But you wouldn't have told him? If you got the chance?" She asked, genuinely.

"I don't..." he sighed out, "-I don't know. I think, in the moment, I was just overwhelmed by it all. In-between how he talked about me, and how he... I barely processed a word before he was gone."

Charlie just looked at him.

"I sat there for a while before it-" he moved over to Miracle, petting him, "-it, uh, kicked in."

"And you-" she responded, a little slowly, "-you haven't seen him since then?"

"Well, I... I just got here," he explained, picking up Miracle's ear between his fingers, "-and I didn't even know he'd gotten out. Until... Until Bobby told me."

"Huh," she commented, sitting beside Miracle, "-Do you think he'd come? If you asked?"

Dean rolled the thought around in his mind, "I don't know, he kinda wanted me to live a lot longer than I did."

"How did you die?"

"On a hunt," he answered, simply.

"Shit," she muttered, "-What took you out?"

"Piece of rebar," he offered, wandering back around toward the shelf, "-Monster of the week threw me against a wall, right into it."

"That's..."

"Sammy was gonna call an ambulance, but I..." he echoed out, "-I told him no. I think- I think I wanted to die."

Charlie didn't speak for a moment, processing it, "Because of... Cas?"

"Yeah, mostly," Dean admitted, "-I, uh, realized it all when I got here. Drove Baby for a while and just... Just started thinking."

"About everything?"

"Yeah, uh," he hummed out, brushing his hand over Miracle's fur, "-everything. I wasn't happy there. Wasn't living the life I wanted, and I don't think I could have. Not without Cas."

She paused a second, "Do you think you'll be happy here?"

"It's Heaven," he laughed, not really looking at her, "-I kinda have to be, right?"

"Well," she countered, speaking a little carefully, "-Dean, you still don't have Cas."

Dean's hand froze in place.

"If you weren't happy without him then," she continued, thoughtfully, "-how are you going to be happy without him now?"

"He was dead," he spoke -defensively, "-He's alive now. I can... I can live with that."

"Dean," Charlie reiterated, low and gentle, "-will you be happy?"

"I've handled worse," he argued, but something in his chest was twisting.

She looked at him then, eyes steady on his, "But you don't have to."

He swallowed, repeating, "But I can."

She stood up then, coming right in front of him, and Dean nearly shrunk in place.

"Dean, he... he loves you," Charlie spoke, barely a whisper, "-and I think, somewhere in that thick skull of yours, you love him too."

He gnawed at his lip, "What's that gotta do with anything?"

"It's... everything, Dean," she laughed, a little in disbelief, "-It's got to do with everything. You deserve to be happy."

He took a deep breath through his nose.

"Isn't that what Castiel wanted?" she pointed out, "-For you to be happy?"

"Apparently not," he retorted, a little bitterly, "-how could I be happy when he's dead?"

"Maybe-" Charlie paused, cogs turning in her head, "-You said that he had to be the happiest he's ever been right?"

"Yeah," he replied, trying to follow.

"How could he be the happiest he's ever been if he knew he was causing you pain?"

Dean swallowed, his stomach twisting, "You think..."

"Dean, look I could be wrong," she clarified, "-but I don't think he thought you'd care. If... If he was the happiest he's ever been, and he loved you, he would never be able to cause you pain, or think he would, and still get taken."

He was speechless, something climbing up his throat.

"If he thought you weren't going to be happy," she finished like she'd had a major breakthrough, "-he... he couldn't have been taken."

"He..." Dean faltered to a stop, "-You really think he thought I wouldn't care?"

Charlie pursed her lips together, "I don't know how else it could've worked."

Dean felt like his whole body was on fire, like he was burning alive. Cas didn't know he cared? How the hell didn't he know that?

God, he cared so damn much, and he didn't even know?

He tried to think back to every time he'd lost Cas, all the grief. Dean realized he'd never seen that, he didn't see everytime he lost his goddamn mind because he was gone. For all he knew, everything was hunky-fucking-dory. He's just always thought he knew.

God, he didn't know?

She approached him then, holding his arms, "Dean, I know it's scary, believe me, I know-"

He just looked at her, words stuck in his throat. It felt like he could say everything and nothing at all. Like he was feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

"But he deserves to know," she finished.

Dean took a second, before saying, "Yeah, yeah, he does."

Charlie smiled at him, patting his arms, "You should talk to him, like... as soon as possible."

"Through what? Prayer?"

"Well, yeah," she laughed a little as if it was obvious.

"How do I know..." he exhaled, "-How do I know he'll come?"

"Dean," she assured, "-he loves you."

"Yeah, but what if he's-" he paused, "-what if he's avoiding me?"

"Dean," she repeated, "-he loves you."

"How does that-"

"That doesn't just stop," she interrupted him, "-It's not like if he gets uncomfortable, he'll just stop loving you. It's bigger than everything, if you ask him to, he'll come."

"But-" he tried.

"I know it," she continued, "-and when have I ever been wrong?"

Dean laughed a little.

"Actually, don't answer that," she laughed, "-Just, just trust me. He built this whole Heaven for you, didn't he?"

He responded, simply, "He did."

"He'll come," she repeated, "-You just have to ask, Winchester."

She'd left not long after that, with one solid hug (he didn't think he'd every stop hugging her, ever) and a promise to "tell me all the deets, including the juicy stuff".

Dean wasn't sure how to handle that.

He didn't do it immediately. He sat down and ate the pie first, which was the friggin' best one he'd ever had (he wondered if it always tasted like that up here). Then, he spent the next few hours going through his collection. He even popped in a cassette from Baby, had a few in-home concerts, and just sat with Miracle for a while (Dean thought that he might've known he wasn't doing something he was supposed to, he had a serious bitch face). And then it was night.

So, he went to bed.

He'll be honest, it happened a few times. Days happened (if that was a thing in Heaven).

It wasn't like he wasn't trying. He did, just every time he tried... He was just a damn coward. Kept saying, "I'll do it tomorrow." And it had very much already been tomorrow. A few of them, actually.

Part of him was kinda waiting to see if he'd just... show up like he used to. But, if he'd confessed his, what he believed to be, unrequited love to his best friend... he'd probably avoid him at all costs too. (He kinda already was.)

Today, though, was different.

Dean woke up, got his coffee, and instead of sitting down at the table and staring out the window (usually watching Miracle run around the yard), he went to the hallway. Couldn't tell you why, if you asked. But he just did.

And he stopped at the same picture, the one of him and Cas laughing. His eyes roamed over the crinkled smile, maybe a little differently now. An ache settled in his chest, like maybe he was missing a limb. Every morning he woke up, something was missing.

And sure, yeah, part of that was Sammy. But the other part...

His eyes smoothed over him again, and he just had the overwhelming urge for him to be there. And the thought ran through his mind again that he didn't know that he mattered. Cas was just living (relatively) with the knowledge that Dean didn't care, as if it was the truth.

With a breath, he decided today was the day.

He had given himself time, gotten dressed, sat out on the front porch (it was raining today, he found it kinda calming), and just readying himself.

Now, he was pacing in the kitchen.

"Cas, buddy," he tried like he was running through lines, "-No. Why would I call him buddy? That defeats the whole goddamn purpose."

He sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers, before trying again.

"Cas," he started, trying to think, "-that day. You knew I- Well, you thought you knew I-"

He dragged his palm down his face, groaning. How the hell was he going to do this?

"Fuck it," he decided, he was never going to get it right, "-let's wing it."

Dean let out a big long breath, shaking his hands as if to ready himself. And he really needed to do so.

He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-

"You can do this, Winchester," he mumbled to himself, "-You killed God, what's a damn love confession?"

Love, love, love, chimed through his head.

His stomach churned, but he stayed focused -eyes squeezed shut. Taking a few deep breaths, he stayed silent for a while. Maybe thinking a little too hard in his head, but at this point, there was no use in fighting it.

He deserves to know, he deserves to know, he deserves to know-

Dean let out a shaky breath, and opened his mouth -words slow and particular, "Cas, I don't know if you can hear me or if you're busy-"

Before he could finish another word, a voice called out from behind him.

"Dean," his voice was measured with a sort of lilt (maybe concern).

"Goddammit, Cas," he jumped, flinching, but turning to the angel on instinct, "-you gotta stop doing that."

He skimmed over him a second like he couldn't believe he was real. But he was, and he was standing right in front of him. Before he could say another word though, Cas started searching over him -quickly.

He lifted his arm (grabbing him by the wrist, Dean's brain froze a little), looking for an injury maybe, "Are you alright?"

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"What? Yeah," he blinked the haze out of his eyes, "-yeah, I'm fine, Cas. I'm in Heaven, what could hurt me?"

He furrowed his eyebrows in the way he always did and seemed to take him in a second. Blue eyes looked him over, maybe trying to tell if he was lying or not. (He probably could, if he was.) The way that he looked at him so intently always made him want to squirm, or run away, or make some odd comment.

It was a little relieving to see it now though.

"It's good to see you," Dean spoke without thinking about it. It was the first thing he thought of.

And it was, Cas being here felt like that missing piece was back in place. Perfectly slotted. It was kinda clouding his judgment.

Cas did the head tilt thing that he always did (and Dean let himself think for the first time that it was cute), eyebrows furrowing together. Even if Dean didn't know him well enough, he would've known he was confused.

"It's good to see you too, Dean," he finally spoke, cautiously but still so damn genuine, "-Although, I do wish we met in different circumstances."

Dean laughed a little, and the silence felt like he was being swallowed whole. But he just couldn't open his mouth.

"Dean?" He still said it exactly the same as he did the first day he met him. It made his head spin a little.

He looked at him, wordlessly.

"Why am I... here?"

Dean pushed his lips together, kind of deflecting, "When did you get out?"

Cas looked at him, maybe a little guiltily but still very sound, "Jack got me out... as soon as he had the power to."

"So, what-" he stated, trying to clarify, "-uh, right after Chuck was taken care of? When he snapped everybody back into existence?"

"Yes," Cas answered, "-After he left the two of you, he spoke to the Empty and got me out. It apparently wasn't easy, but..."

Dean but at his lip a little, looking to the ground a second, "So... So, all those weeks I was on Earth, you were out? Alive?"

Cas was just staring at him, mouth pressed into a thin line. Dean saw something shift through his eyes that couldn't really understand.

"And you-" he continued, now a little frustrated, "-you what, you didn't think to at least tell me that?"

"Dean-"

"No, no," he interrupted, "-I thought you were dead, Cas. Gone. And you just didn't want to tell me?"

"That's not," he let out a big long sigh, "-That's not the case, Dean."

"Sure as hell looks like it," he scoffed, and maybe he was frustrated but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry. Not anymore.

"I thought," Cas cleared his throat, maybe a little awkwardly, "-I thought you wouldn't want to see me."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" Dean asked, incredulously.

"The last..." he echoed out, like he didn't want to say the wrong thing, "-The last meeting we had wasn't preferable to you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

He rolled around the thought in his head a second, and all he got was resounding defiance, but he couldn't quite say that yet. His head just kept pounding.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Did you-" he started again, searching for answers, "-After the Empty, did you think I was happy?"

Cas looked at him a second, before swinging his eyes to his sleeve almost instinctively (where the bloody handprint would've been), "Not happy necessarily."

"But your damn deal, or whatever," Dean waved his hand dismissively, "-you had to be happy. Completely happy."

"Yes," he answered, inquisitively, "-What is this about, Dean?"

"Cas," he responded, his voice a little shaky (he could see his eyes hitch on it), "-did you think I would care? That I wouldn’t give a damn if you died?"

He pressed his lips together and didn't say a word. Dean thought it was the most telling thing in the world.

His lungs felt like they were tied with rope -he couldn't get a good breath in. Like he was suffocating-

"Really?"

"You looked-" Cas tried to defend himself, "-You looked happy, Dean."

"Yeah," he explained, as if it was obvious, "-because you wanted me to be. And I was trying. For you."

He didn't respond.

"Because what good was a damn sacrifice if I didn't try?"

Cas opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Even though it looked like he was trying, maybe even trying to understand what Dean was expressing. Like he couldn't see it, or didn't believe it.

God, he really doesn't know how much I care?

He posed another question, wringing his hands, "Do you know how I died, Cas?"

"Of course I do, Dean."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"I've had a lot of time to do some thinking," Dean continued, walking a little in place, "-and I think... No, I know that I did it on purpose."

"Don't say that," Cas spoke, voice heavy with something.

"Sammy wanted to call an ambulance," he continued, looking down at his hands and still walking, "-and I didn't let him."

"And you think-" something smoothed over in his eyes, "-you think you could've survived?"

"Maybe," he offered, "-I guess I don't know, but I... Cas, I didn't try. I didn't fight it. I spent my whole life fighting it, and when it mattered most, I didn't damn fight it."

Cas's face fell a little, some sort of understanding in his eyes, agreement even. It rattled through Dean's bones, and made it a little hard to stand a moment.

"I never thought that I could leave Sammy alone," he continued, and one of his hands racked through his hair, "-I was scared shitless to. But it was so easy to just give up. I wasn't... I wasn't living, Cas. Despite whatever you think in that angel head of yours, I was not damn happy."

Cas just looked at him, eyes flicking between his, trying to understand. He took a second, before replying, "I'm sorry, Dean. I would never want to cause you so much pain."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

Dean's heart was pounding in his chest. He felt for a second that maybe it would burst through his ribcage like it did in cartoons. It felt damn powerful enough.

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the urge for to say it. It was on the very tip of his tongue.

"I know, Cas," he deflected (something in his chests stung, coward), "-I know."

Cas just looked at him then, scanning over his face. He could tell there was something else, he looked right into his damn soul every time he looked at him, and there was something else. Dean waited a second, to see if he'd say anything, but he was hit with a resounding no.

Maybe he thought he'd already said enough. Too much maybe. Dean didn't know if he agreed with him or not.

"Cas, I-" he spoke, maybe a little quietly, "-I can't be happy without you. You gotta know that."

He was looking at him more intensely now, still trying to understand it all. Like maybe he couldn't imagine what Dean was trying to say. Or maybe like he couldn't even fathom it.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"I know you didn't-" he cleared his throat, eyes flickering away (he couldn't look at him right now), "-I know you didn't see me. When you, uh, died, any of the times. But I- I gotta tell ya, I was far from happy."

Cas didn't interrupt him, he just kept looking. Staring. Like every word he said was important.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

He just kept talking, at this point he could stop (his eyes burned), "I kept your goddamn trenchcoat in Baby the whole time you were..."

He thought maybe for a second he was working himself up, but he couldn't stop now.

"And when Lucifer stabbed you," he pressed his lips together, and swallowed, "-I gave you a hunter's funeral and... and watched your body burn up into flames."

"Dean," Cas spoke, he could maybe see the edge he was teetering on. Maybe he could see that he was going to cry, and that was new. Maybe he was trying to soothe-

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"And then, when the Empty got you," Dean's voice shook a little, "-I stayed there, for a... a while and cried, probably the most I ever have in my life-"

Cas flinched, maybe a little guiltily, "Dean."

"-I couldn't even answer Sam's damn phone call."

He was holding out his hands now, a little like how cops did, in those shows, when the perpetrator had a weapon or was threatening his own life. Cautious, careful. A little like he'd explode. Voice careful and measured, "Dean, I didn't know-"

"I know that, Cas," he interrupted, maybe a little defensively but he couldn't help it, "-I've been beating myself up about it since I realized that I never made it goddamn clear to you that I cared."

"Don't," Cas replied, a little pained, "-There's no need for that, Dean."

"For what? The fact that I didn't- That you didn't-" his words stuttered in his chest, and he just couldn't speak.

"I know now," he tried to soothe, and Dean's head was pounding, "-I know now that you... care. I know."

Care, care, care.

Love, love, love.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

It felt like his heart was in his throat, like everything was waiting to be said. Like it was right there, and he was so close.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about, Dean?"

All he could hear was his heartbeat in his chest, pounding, pounding, pounding-

I love him, I love him, I love him-

God, he didn't want him to leave.

This house was his too, he could just feel it in the walls. There was something missing, there was always something missing. Even when he was alive-

"Dean?"

How long had he wanted this? Wanted more?

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Dean."

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Dean, are you alright?"

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Dean," his hands were on his shoulders now (just like before-), "-can you hear me?"

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

I love him, I love him, I love him-

Pounding, pounding, pounding.

"Dean!"

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"Shit, Cas, you can have it!"

Cas looked startled for a moment, but he didn't step away, he didn't let go. Dean's stomach twisted. "What are you-"

"Back, back before the Empty... you said-"

Cas just stared at him, it made Dean want to stop but he couldn't stop-

"-you said, 'The one thing I want, I know I can't have'-"

He just kept talking, and Cas kept staring -something shining in his eyes. Dean thought he knew what.

"-and I'm pretty damn sure that thing was me-"

Cas was looking at him the way he always did, and Dean recognized it for what it was now.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"-You can have it, Cas," he was speaking softer now, a little out of breath, "-You've... You've always had it. Had... Had me."

Cas was just staring a little in disbelief, dropping his hands, and stepping back a little (it made Dean's heart sting).

I love him, I love him, I love him-

"You don't-" he shook his head, not quite looking at him, "-You don't know what you're saying."

"I'm pretty damn sure I do," he responded, a little biting but there was just so much. It couldn't come out any other way.

Cas stared at him like he was trying to find the confusion, the lie, but he was coming up empty-handed. Wonder why the fuck that is.

"Goddammit, Cas," he pushed his palms into his eyes, "-are you gonna make me say it?"

"Say what?" He asked, like it wasn't obvious. Like he couldn't fathom it. It made Dean's hands shake, and his throat clog up.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me-

"Damn it, I love you too!"

The silence that filled the room was suffocating, but Dean just needed to breathe-

"And I can't be happy without you," he spoke, eyes still behind his hands (he couldn't look), "-and I want you to goddamn stay for once."

There was another beat.

"With me," and he thought he may have sounded a little pathetic, but he was very much past that point already.

And there was no one here who would ever judge him. Cas would never judge him and he knew that. He knew that like he knew that the sun rises in the morning and falls at night. Cas would never.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt hands pulling back his own -calloused fingertips against his own. Dean's breath hitched in his chest.

He loves me? He loves me? He loves me?

Cas was close now, and before he fully let go, he kept his hands on his face -cradling. And at first Dean thought he might kiss him (which he wasn't sure how to feel about), but he just kept them there.

He was looking at him like he always does (with love) and holding him a little like he was precious maybe, to him. Dean still couldn't understand that, but he thought one day he might be able to. That Cas might help him to.

"Okay, Dean," he spoke, gentle after a long sort of silence, "-I'll stay."

I love him.

He loves me.

#supernatural #castiel #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #spn #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #watchoutwriting #spn finale fix-it #the apple pie life for me (and you)

[thehyperfixationspeedrunner]

This is me trying

Summary: It's been a month since what Cardan has been calling the "reptile accident" when he decides to get up before Jude, not knowing the consequences.

OR these two are traumatised and they may not acknowledge it, but I will.

Trigger warnings (already put in the tags but I'm not sure if I did it right so better safe than sorry): panic attack, cussing

It's weird how easily you fall into routine. It's barely been a month since what Cardan has started calling the "reptile accident" or the one he likes best "revealing his true form" (although that one isn't used in front of Jude, she's not sure why but she prefers it that way). Anyway, it's been a month since Cardan has been transformed into a snake, since Cardan and Jude has started to live together as the King and Queen of Elfhame but they have already established a routine, even if neither of them has noticed it until today.

Jude is always the first to wake up - Jude was raised by a general and Cardan by a prince, so that part is obvious. She dresses first, giving Mr. Lazy time to sleep, and then she wakes up sleeping beauty even though he always complains that while there aren't people busting into the room saying he's late, she's waking him up early. He never says he hates it. Jude suspects is because he can't lie. From then, Jude orders breakfast while Cardan dresses up, and they eat together before having to deal with their royal obligations.

Today, however, was different. Shockingly, Jude was able to have some good 6 hours of sleep and woke up a bit disoriented. See, this is the bad part about sleeping a lot. When you wake up, your senses take a while to turn on. That's definitely the reason why Jude barely sleeps, at least that's what she tells everyone when they ask her. Because of that, she took a bit to notice that she was alone in bed, which triggered something in her brain. She instantly gets out of bed and starts to look in every corner of their room repeating to herself that everything is fine, Cardan just woke up earlier and is dressing up or putting the hundred of layers that he puts every morning because "I know I look impressive naturally but I am the High King, Jude, I have to look perfect". Except he is nowhere to be found.

See, a small but important part of this quickly created routine was when Jude woke up and she would always look to the side and see Cardan relaxed and asleep, would look at his chest rise and fall and make sure that, yes, he's alive and, no, this last month was not a fever dream, he really is here. Without that confirmation, Jude is starting to spiral, and the fact that Cardan is not in the room doesn't help.

She tries to take a deep breath. She's the High Queen goddammit, she can't panic every time a minor routine change happens. But the truth is that she cannot take the deep breath. She cannot even take a small breath. She's pretty sure she's not breathing at all. But she has to because Cardan needs her. Jude goes through her options: one, he did wake up earlier, got knocked off in the room but somewhere hidden where she didn't check; two, he got knocked off somewhere in the castle and his unconscious body is lying there; three, he got abducted while he slept; four... Maybe last month was a fever dream. No, she is not going to think about option four.

While she does a more precise search through their room, she also tries to think of who would do this. He's the King of Elfhame, so it's obvious that he has a lot of enemies, but she is not remembering anyone who's this mad at him right now. However, her hands are trembling and there's still not enough air reaching her lungs, so maybe her memory is not the best at the moment. You were almost deadly stabbed before the incident.

Ok, he is not in the room, so option number two. This one is not the most likely. If someone knocked him off, they wouldn't just leave him in the middle of the corridor, and Faes don't just slip, so he couldn't have knocked himself out. Besides the palace is huge, it would take too long to search. Maybe you were less healed than you thought. Option number three it is. There are three windows in the room. The climb is hard but not impossible, she has done it herself while having a major injury. A major injury that could have been infected. Jude shakes her head and checks the three windows. None of them is broken and they are all locked from the inside, like they were when they went to sleep, which she knows because she always checks that before going to bed. Unless the person was a master spy (which is an option), she doesn't know how someone pulled that of. The other way into the room is through the door, so she quickly opens it, revealing two knights part of her security.

"Was there any disturbance last day?" She would be surprised that her voice somehow didn't fail if she was at all worried with that right now.

"We heard or seen nothing different than usual, your majesty."

"Have you fallen asleep or abandoned your post anytime during your shift?" The knights were visibly offended by that, but she had to clear all her options.

"No, your majesty. Is everyth-" Having her answers, Jude closes the door, leaving the knights to their jobs. If she was in her right mind she would have noticed that she was still in her bed clothes, her hair was mess, the room was worse and her hands still trembled and her breath was still labored. But she was not her in her right mind. Cardan is missing- He was not here at all. Her husband is missing and she is going to find him. Maybe he was taken outside their bedroom and there is going to be some kind of clue outside of it.

She is about to open the door again when a thought crosses her mind. The lover's bedroom. There is a pathway between that room and the High King and Queen's room. That is how whoever took Cardan got in. No one got in. Hallucinations caused by infections are common, at least for mortals. She slides through the pathway towards the other bedroom but is met with a similar scenario. No window was broken and all of them are closed from the inside, same with the door, no signs of breaking. Stop looking for what you won't find. You know you can barely remember anything after cutting Cardan's head off. It was the serpents head. You know that's the same thing. There was a battlefield where you broke down. You could have easily been stabbed. I would remember it. Would you? Sometimes, our mind purposely forgets traumatic memories. You could have passed out. No. You could have dreamt. Stop. Cardan is dead and you have been feeding yourself this fantasy because you can't deal with the guilt. STOP. You killed him and now you're living in a world without him and you'll keep living in it because that's the reality. I SAID STOP.

Jude. The sound of something breaking. She can't do it. She can't go back to those three days. She can't live without Cardan's mockery. She can't live without his laugh. She can't.

JUDE. She's shaking now, or someone is shaking her, she's not lucid enough to understand. God, he's her anchor. She doesn't know what to do without him. She wants to go back to sleep. She wants to go back to their routine. She wants to hear him complain about waking up early again. She wants to feel his fingers playing with her hair again. She wants-

JUDE! Cardan. She opens her eyes (since when were they closed?) and faces the love of her life's face. He looks adorably worried, full make up and hair nicely treated. She can't help but smile. "Cardan" she whispers, trying not to force her voice tired from screaming and crying (curious, she doesn't remember that). She puts her head in the space between his neck and shoulder and he starts rubbing circles on her back. "Stay" she pleads. Because that's what she's doing, pleading to the universe to let her stay in this fever dream, to have more time with Cardan, even if it isn't real, even if he's dead, even if that's her fault and there's just her to blame.

"Always" and that pisses her off. Because that's what Cardan would say, that's how Cardan looks, that's how Cardan acts and this mind prison has no right to be this close to reality.

"Liar" she spits. He looks mostly confused and a bit hurt but she doesn't care, this isn't real so nothing fucking matters.

"Jude, I would never abandon you-"

"But you did!" she's close to screaming now, but she doesn't care, her voice was cracking, but it doesn't matter. She has to get this out. "You abandoned me for three days because of that prophechy bullshit. You left me to rule Elfhame while simultaneously dealing with the schemings that my father and the frozen royalty was fucking doing and the fact that the love of my life was a goddam snake and then I, and I-" she can't get it out, she still can't believe it.

"You saved me."

"I killed you." she is fully sobbing now, but she can't stop. She gets up (she was sitting down?) and keeps going "You're dead and this is just a manifestation from my brain, because somewhere else I'm also dying and I hope I do because I can't live in a world where you're not. I physically will not be able to continue without you!" She sinks into the floor using the bed as support and Cardan sits in front of her. He has a puzzled expression in his face. They stay some time in silence, Jude catching her breath and Cardan trying to put pieces together.

"Why do you think I'm not real?" he finally asks, his voice tiny as if he's afraid of the answer.

"You weren't there." Jude matches his tone. "When I woke up. I always check to make sure you're there because if you are, then that means you're real and I'm not dreaming. At first, I thought you were kidnapped. That's why I'm here, I thought this was how whoever took you got in."

"My wife, scheming even when she's panicking." he's looking at her with that adoration in his eyes that never fails to take her breath away. "Let's keep scheming, shall we?" He looks at her, waiting for an answer so she nods. "You say that you are dreaming, you're in this coma and you can't wake up. Well, let's test this theory. Did you know that you can't read in dreams?" Another nod. Cardan gets up, picks a book from the bedside table and hands it to her. "Well, can you read?" The answer is yes. The book was a mortal romance that she was sure she had seen in Cardan's hands. That meant that this was real, Cardan was here and she hadn't killed him. Immediate relief washed over and with that came more tears that she hadn't noticed when they stopped. God, she was a mess. This is ridiculous, she is being ridiculous. Trying to look less like she just had a mental breakdown over nothing Jude attempts to clean the tears that don't stop. Of course this is reality, of course Cardan just woke up earlier and went to do god knows what. She's the fucking High Queen and she can't stand when her husband is out earlier, can't keep a cool head, can't-

"Stop." Cardan gently takes the hands that are trying to hide the tears that keep coming, why don't they stop? "Don't do that." His tone is gentle but secure and so goddamn grounding, how does he do it?

"Do what?"

"Close yourself. I could see the moment you realised that this was the reality because that was the moment the mask came back on. You're probably thinking that you don't have the right to feel this way because you can't show weaknesses or whatever bullshit your mind thinks of." Sometimes it's scary how well he knows her. "Don't close yourself from me." He is rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand and it feels so right, everything about him feels so right.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." His tone is becoming more frustrated. "This is obviously bothering you, but I had no idea and because of my ignorance you just had a fucking panic attack." Her eyebrows went up. "I may have been reading about mortal psychology, but that's not important, what's important is," he moves his hands to cup her face and cleans the tears - that have finally stopped - with his thumb. "You don't have to pretend with me."

"You're one to talk." She retaliates but doesn't push him away. "You haven't said another word about those three days since I asked what it was like being a snake on the same day you stopped being one." Cardan laughs because he's Cardan and he laughs when he's nervous and he is not the only one who knows the other too well, she can see in his eyes that the thought of having to speak of those three days of hell terrifies him as much as her.

He moves to her side and sighs. "We really are made for each other, aren't we?" He seems to consider something before saying. "Let's make a pact. Whenever we want the other to open up, we say a code word and they have to do it after we reveal something that has been bothering us. No lies, no tricks, just the plain truth. Deal?" He gives her his right hand. It is always dangerous to make a deal with a fae, but this is Cardan, they have passed the backstabbing phase when she came back from exile. She takes his hand and shakes it.

"Deal. But we have to choose the word, something that we won't say normally."

"California." The place they went on their honeymoon instead of being on the two weeks celebrations of the Mortal Queen's victory over the serpent. The place where they were just two teenagers in love and not The Queen and King of Elhame, not the warrior and the prince, not the people with traumatic childhood, not the two broken pieces of what should be two whole people.

"Sounds great."

"I said it, so I start." He takes a deep breath and speaks. "I woke up earlier today because I had a nightmare. I wasn't someone trapped inside the snake like people like to believe, I was the snake. When the snake died, I died, even if for a few seconds." Jude takes a sharp breath, she always took comfort in the fact that she hadn't cut his head, but what was trapping him, that he hadn't felt anything. Cardan notices and takes both her hands and looks at her straight in the eyes. "I don't blame you, nor will I ever. If I say something assumimg the opposite, you have the premission to cut my head because that is not me. But as I was saying, when I saw you taking out the sword, I couldn't help but feel relief, but when you dealt the blow I, I-" another deep breath "I couldn't feel anything. I don't remember anything. I died. And that terrifies me. I was. I wasn't there. I replay that in my mind countless days, but today was so vivid, I couldn't fall back asleep, so I got out. I needed fresh air. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. I should've come back when it was time to wake up, I should've woken you, I didn't know that you needed that, but if I did, I would have done it."

They stay a few moments in silence, taking deep breaths and deep in thoughts.

"Your turn."

She wants to sugar-coat it. She wants to say that it wasn't that bad, she doesn't want to see guilt in his face even if it isn't his fault. But Cardan didn't sugar-coated when he revealed that what she did hurt him even if he knew it was going to hurt her. So instead, she says:

"Those were the worst three days of my life. I honestly thought it was going to be ok when we were negotiating with Madoc. That we won, they were going to surrender and we would be fine. Then I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe when Grimsen said that only death would save you. I went to Baphen, I went to the Old King, but all of them had the same answer. Somehow I had to rule the fucking kingdom while grieving a death that I didn't believe in. On top of all of that the court of teeths was on my throat, making plans to try to turn you and me into their puppets like their daughter. The relief that I had when I saw you alive was bigger than anything I thought I could feel, but the time between that and when I cutted the sna- your head it was my lowest. It was a hole and I was at the deep end with no way out. I cannot live without you." She stops to look at him. Look at his black hair and his eyes that look like black holes. His pale skin and his small mouth. No, she can't imagine a world without him. But that moment was close, so close. "I am so scared that I will go back to that void, I'm so scared that the universe wasn't as kind as I thought, I'm so scared to not wake up next to you."

He puts his arm around her shoulder and she puts her head on his. Jude looks up and sees tears running down Cardan's face, so she hugs him, feeling his other arm surround her. They stay silent for some time while Carden cries in Jude's shoulder and Jude just holds him close, all her tears wasted a few minutes ago.

"I'm sorry." Cardan was the one to break the silence.

"Not your fault."

"Liar."

"I wouldn't lie to you." It's the truth.

"May I remind you that you said you were fine while bawling your eyes out a few minutes ago?" OK, half true.

"When you have a nightmare, find me. I don't care if I just went to sleep, I don't care if I hadn't slept in days, I don't care if I'm not even asleep and you have to drag me out of my work, find me."

"When you feel like this is not real, find me. I don't care if you have to send someone to do it, I don't care if you run around the palace screaming my name, I don't care if I'm in the most important reunion, find me."

They break the hug to look at each other and say at the same time, "Deal".

"Sooo, do you want to have breakfast in bed and completely run away from our responsibilities?"

"We're the King and Queen of Elfhame."

"Exactly, there is no one above to stop us."

"We have an entire kingdom depending on us."

"Well, as the High King, I order you to stay in bed with me."

"As the High Queen, I'm going to refuse that order."

"Come on, you're mortal, you can say that we are sick or something." Jude's going to retaliate, but honestly? She's exhausted and spending the night in bed with her husband doesn't seem the worst idea.

"You are a horrible influence, do you know that?"

"Does that mean I win?"

She sighs. "Yes, you win."

"Yay" He says, getting up and doing a little spin like a child who was able to negotiate bedtime with their parents. She can't help but smile at his shenanigans.

Next, he does an extremely exaggerated bow and continues. "After you, my queen."

At that, she fully laughs, takes his hand and goes down the pathway with him. She hates being vulnerable, but with him, it isn't that bad. How do we take the armour off? A piece at a time. She feels like they just took another one.

-‐----------------‐-----------------‐----------------‐----------------

So, I had this idea since I finished Queen of Nothing and since I didn't see any fic like this I decided to make it myself. The characters may be a bit OOC, I'm not tha familiar with them. I am not a writer and my first language is not English, so apologies for any mistake. 🫶

Btw this was way bigger than I thought, no idea how many words, but damn, I'm having a brain riot.

#tw panic attack #panic attack #tw cussing #cussing #is this how you tag trigger warnings? #I seriously don't know #jurdan #jude x cardan #jude duarte #jude #cardan x jude #cardan greenbriar #cardan #high king cardan #high king of elfhame #high queen jude #high queen of elfhame #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories #htkoelths #the stolen heir #tsh #the prisioner's throne #tpt #tcp #qon #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

[ellafushiguro]

“Not bad…” Chapter 1

(Links to: Prologue & Chapters 2 & 3)

Your morning routine consists of waking up at 4:00am, laying in bed just staring at the wall for 30 minutes trying to wake up, contemplating your life and all the choices you’ve ever made that led you to here and now, then finally getting up to take a shower and getting yourself ready for work. By 6:00am, you finish zipping the back of your skirt up, giving yourself one last look in the mirror making sure your ponytail is perfectly slicked back and checking for any wrinkles you might’ve missed on your white blouse, before grabbing your Scouts jacket and brown leather work satchel as you walk out the door of your room.

You reach the hallway to the mess hall after going down a few flights of stairs, only to bump into Section Commander Hange. “Oh! Goodmorning Y/N! You’re looking lovely this morning as always! Are you off to have breakfast?” Hange chirps. You often wonder how she can be in such a cheerful mood every single morning. It’s been about 3 months now since you transferred to the Survey Corps, and you haven’t seen her in any other mood. Most of the Scouts are surprisingly alot friendlier than any of the MP’s you’ve ever worked with. This is gonna take a while to get used to, you thought to yourself. “Goodmorning Hange, yes I am. Would you care to join me?” You ask. “Great minds think alike! I heard they’re serving something called pancakes? It’s new. Apparently they’re kinda sweet!” She says as she hooks her right arm into your left one, practically dragging your short legs to your destination. You two have gotten quite close in the 3 months you’ve been here. As extroverted as she is, you don’t mind her company at all.

You and Hange find open seats next to a group of young familiar faces:

Armin: the smart blonde.

Eren: the kid who always throws rage fits, and is apparently a titan.

Mikasa: the chill, but can still kick your ass, girl.

Connie: nice kid but a little random sometimes.

Jean: you don’t see why everyone calls him “horse-face”, he’s actually quite handsome.

Bertoldt: the shy tall guy.

Reiner: the group's big brother. He reminds you of a giant teddy bear.

Krista: the group's sweet little sister.

Ymir: kinda like Mikasa, except the only difference is Mikasa actually has a filter.

And lastly, Sasha: Girl eats like it’s her last day on earth… which you don’t blame her for… being in this job field and all.

“Goodmorning Section Commander, Lt (Lieutenant)!” The whole table greets you both with sleepy smiles & a salute. You both nod & everyone sits back down.

“Hey Lt! You never updated us on what happened when you served Captain Levi tea on your first day!” Eren says. “Ohh righttt, totally forgot you pulled that.. a little daredevil aren’t ya Lt hah!” Reiner says with a smirk, nudging you with his elbow. They all look at you with wide eyes, waiting for your response. “Right, sorry! You guys have been so busy lately, I didn’t want to bother you all. I completely forgot about it. But umm.. it wasn’t what I was expecting. I thought you guys said he was an asshole? You guys made it seem like he was gonna throw a tea cup at me or something.” The group looks at each other confused. “So… he didn’t?…” Jean asks with one eyebrow raised. “…No?” You responded, raising an eyebrow back at him. “Well what did he say?!” Sasha exclaims, mouth full of pancake. “W-well at first nothing. He drank the tea and went on with his work. The next day, I brought his lunch to his office, and he offered me some tea that HE brewed. It was pretty good but I prefer my tea with a little bit of honey and- “ You were cut off by Krista, “HE WHAAAAAT!?” Jolting from her seat and slamming her hands on the table, excitement in her eyes. You jump a little in surprise, and a bit in confusion. “Maybe it’s cuz of your uniform. You got the whole sexy secretary look to ya.” Hange chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows. “M-my skirt?” You look down at your outfit. “Yes ma’am. And your shirt seems kinda tight. Or maybe you just have some nice melons on ya? The buttons look like they’re going to pop off any second. Must be nice.” Ymir winks, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. You look around the table, all the boys had deep red cheeks, trying not to make eye contact with you. Awkward. You pull your Scouts jacket a little tighter around your front, “O-oh well I- “ Again getting cut off by Krista, “You guys! He made her a cup of HIS tea. HIS tea!!!” They all burst into debate, trying to top the other about why the Captain didn’t react the way they thought he normally would, completely ignoring Krista. “I guess this is our que to leave now, once you get these kids goin it’ll never end.” Hange whispers. It’s almost 7:00am anyway, time to bring Captain his morning tea.

“You finally decided to show up, eh.” Levi says while scribbling on a document. His voice as emotionless as ever, so you can’t really tell whether he’s being sarcastic or if he’s actually serious. You continue walking towards his desk, holding a tray with his favorite tea set. So much confusion this morning. This is the usual time you would come in, you thought. Now that you think about it, maybe the reason he hasn’t said anything mean to you so far is because you don’t question him or talk back? You do every thing he asks. You do it all perfectly and in a timely, organized matter. I mean you ARE his assistant after all, you’re just doing your job. You decide to test the waters, “what ever do you mean, this is the usual time I always come in, sir” you say sarcastically with a tiny hint of attitude, not wanting to take it too far… yet. You look at him with a smirk. Already regretting it. Setting down the tray on his desk in front of him, handing him a cup. You pour tea in it, waiting for his response. He’s quiet for a minute, just two steel gray eyes glaring into your soul. Ah crap here it comes. You’re face-palming yourself over and over in your head. You turn your back to him, moving the tea tray to the mid-sized coffee table that’s placed in the middle of his office, squeezing your eyes shut. He sighs, “guess I lost track of the time again.” You open your eyes, again confused. You turn to look at him, “sir?” He rubs his temples, “I haven’t slept” he admits. You see it now, the dark circles around his eyes. You hear it in his voice. “Would you like to take a nap sir? I can handle the paperwork” you offer, feeling slightly guilty for trying to challenge his tired self a few seconds ago. “No I’ll be fi-“ he starts, but you cut him off, “it’s really not a problem sir, I’m happy to do it for you! As long as you get some rest, I’m happy to take the load. That’s what you have me for.” He looks at you with his usual stoic expression but to your surprise, he doesn’t put up a fight, “fine.” He accepts defeat. “Make sure these all get to Erwin’s office by noon. I’m counting on you.” He says as he makes his way to his connected bedroom. “Yes sir of course.” You say, taking a seat in his chair. Your morning mission has begun.

A couple hours later, you’ve finished all the paperwork that Captain Levi left to you and had already sent them all to Commander Erwin’s office. Your stomach grumbles just in time for lunch. As you start walking towards the door to leave Levi’s office, you were stopped dead in your tracks. Bumping into a hard surface, you look up to see a rested, but still not rested enough, Captain Levi coming out of his room. “Sorry Captain, I wasn't expecting you to be up just yet. Did the few hours of sleep help?” You ask, slight concern in your voice. “I’m fine. Did you finish?” He asks, looking over at his now empty desk. “Yes sir, I actually just got back from dropping them off. I’m about to go get some lunch now. Do you want me to bring you anything?” You offer. “It’s fine. I’ll go with you. Maybe you can show me how you prepare our tea.” He says, following behind you out of his office. Our tea?

You both walk into the mess hall and go to stand in line. Levi puts one hand on your lower back and sticks out his other hand, gesturing ‘ladies first’. Yeah, I definitely don’t understand what those kids were talking about. Him? Cold? He seems perfectly normal to me. A bit stern and serious, but that’s with all military officers… except for Hange. “Did you see that?” You hear from somewhere in the crowd of faces. Instead of turning around to face them, you look up at Levi who’s already looking at you. You wonder if he heard the same thing. “Something the matter Y/N?” He asks. You shudder, no one but Hange has called you by your first name in years. Caught off guard, you avert your gaze somewhere straight ahead, “no sir”. You can feel your cheeks getting hot. You can still feel his eyes on you. You didn’t think he even knew your name, or even cared to remember it for that matter. It’s not like you were out on the field risking your life, you were in the safety of his office. And so you thought, because of that, he always just called you Lt. So why are you blushing? All he said was your damn name!

You both make your way to an unoccupied table, Levi still following close behind you. “Here, I got you one of those Snickerdoodle cookies or whatever. They’re your favorite right.” He says, more of a statement than a question. He sits down across from you, placing the cookie on your plate. You were so distracted that you walked right past the dessert table. “Oh thank you Captain! But you didn’t have to- “ He cuts you off, people seem to do that to you alot, “you can drop the formalities while we’re not working. And it’s nothing, I just figured they’d run out of them quickly and you wouldn’t get to have any, is all.” He says. You smile as you both dig into your lunch. Wait, how does he know those are your favorite?

Levi wasn’t too thrilled the day he found out Commander Erwin had assigned him a new assistant/Lieutenant without his knowledge. Just another idiot to worry about. But the second you walked into his office that morning, bringing him the most delicious cup of tea he’s ever had with such an innocent smile on your face, something in him shifted right then and there. Two things he loved: a perfectly brewed cup of tea… and sunshine. The day he came up from the Underground and felt the warmth of the sun on his skin for the very first time.. oh man, he felt like he was living it all over again. “..not bad, brat..” complimenting the tea… and secretly Erwin. Is this what they call “love at first sight” ?

“You can add some honey or lemon for extra sweetness and flavor. It also helps when you’re sick as well!” You say excitedly, getting carried away with your tea tutorial, bouncing all over the kitchen. You finished all the paperwork this morning, so after lunch you and Levi went to the now empty Officers lounge to use the mini kitchen. He has you all to himself. You haven’t looked up at him once since you’ve started, it’s the perfect chance for him to finally get to examine you, memorize your features, watch how you move, see your different facial expressions, listen to your voice, hear your laugh, learn your body language… if she could just jump up one more time… maybe the buttons on her shirt will actually pop off… he dozes off. “Captain?” You snap him back to reality. What the hell is wrong with me?! He thought to himself. “I’ve lost you haven’t I?” You ask, while actually face-palming yourself for real this time. “I’m listening brat, go on.” He urges, waving his hand. You roll your eyes as you continue your lecture. Normally if anyone else did that, he’d be making them run laps around the Scouts compound until sundown. But it kind of… looked good coming from you. The corner of his mouth slightly twitched. When he snaps back to his senses, he realizes you’ve stopped talking a long time ago and is now replicating the way he has his chin resting in the palm of his hand, staring back at him. Shit, her face is so close. “Your tea is gonna get cold Levi” you warn him, looking down at the cup you placed in front of him, then moving your eyes slowly back up looking into his gray orbs once again. Damnit! Now he’s the one mentally face-palming himself. “I-I know, I’m just waiting for it to cool down a bit more. Quit nagging me.” He says, lying through his teeth, but you didn’t need to know that. Finally he takes a sip, “you added some lemon innit this time you say?” You watch as he licks his bottom lip.

“Not bad, Y/N.”

#leviackerman #levi in love #levi ackerman x reader #levi aot #levi x tea #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi fluff #levi attack on titan #aot levi #levi #captain levi #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman x female reader #levi heichou #aot levi ackerman #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x you #levi x romance

[cosmicterrorthe8th]

Another Grant headcanon:

I think he wrote love notes when in relationships, and he went all out with like making the paper scented and stuff. But like he had no good perfume so he ended up using his horrible body spray. So like the lucky boyfriend would like find a paper reeking of the body spray like every once in a while.

Also I think he was someone who fell deep into romance because having a crush and feeling butterflies in his stomach was better than numbness. So he would pursue every crush even if he knew it would not end well because of the thrill of it. I think this sucked but I think he atleast felt like this is a normal way for life to suck.

#honestly I was thinking he continued the note thing with marco in college maybe? #and now marco likes the smell of the body spray even if grant found better perfumes cuz nostalgia #i think i am in my own la dee da world after this episode #where I think if willy takes a break from torturing the parents they should form a circle and become bffs #they should form a circle #toast to rebecca #and then just talk shit idk #i think they would be very funny as a group after they are done grieving #like cassandra would be like how could I have dated such a loser #he literally kidnapped like four of my exs ex friends and put collars on them when we were dating #and they would be like no its not your fault he is that manipulative #and then one of them would talk about their ex to comfort her #and then somwhow it would come out that willy is like the age of their grandparents #and cassandra would be like why did this senior citizen get me so bad #he told me to make him a sandwich and I #a multimillionaire made him a sndwich #this will probably never happen in canon #dndads #grant wilson #dungeons and daddies #the tags are their own seperate post at this point #dndads s2 #looking back on this(tags) #all the spouses knew willy as a nice guy who saved them #rebecca was the only one who suspected him so thats why he killed her #they must be feeling so duped getting tortured except for marco who saw him kill a man #cassandra has been feeling duped since heaven #this is killing me all of them are having conversations in my head now the comedy and the pain is killing me mostly the comedy #marco li wilson #grant li wilson

[coquelicoq]

god i had THE BEST TIME AT THE DENTIST TODAY and i feel completely unhinnnnngèd for saying that bc i never in a million years thought the dentist could be FUN but the hygienist was french and switched to french as soon as i mentioned that i had taken french and i understood almost everything he said to me and it felt so good!!! i never understand french!! things are paying off!!!! also i do super recommend this method of conversing in a language you are not super confident in, like it's not just a coincidence i had such a good time doing this at the dentist specifically, it was good precisely because there was very little pressure on me to talk and i could mostly just make yes/no/questioning noises and any time i wanted to say a sentence i could take my time with it because there were literally instruments in my mouth??? absolutely no pressure for me to say something just to say something it was heaven oh my god. i take back every joke i've ever made about dentist office conversational logistics. IDEAL MODE.

#i was smiling so wide it was interfering with his ability to clean my teeth lol. like okay bro now open your mouth in the OTHER direction #he was also just really funny like at one point we were talking about how i solve the nyt crossword #bc he found this very impressive and was like i'm going to tell everyone about this. except i will not use your name #because that would be a HIPAA violation #which was just the most hilarious thing he could possibly have said in that moment #also omg at one point we were discussing my job and i was trying to tell him it's largely customer service #but i couldn't remember and/or don't know how to say customer service in french so i asked him and he was like #euhhhhh...service (the french word service not the english word service)...and then trailed off and couldn't think of it either #okay maybe i'm easily amused today because i had bad insomnia last night but EITHER WAY i had a very good time #chez le dentiste which. je n'avais JAMAIS attendu qu'une telle chose m'arriverait !! #i must tell my cousin who wants to be a dentist all about this #my posts

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#sorry im thinking abt death again #because it's weird to think that ive been in the room. maybe a meter away from someone as they died #that someone being my mom. its just weird. the time in the hospital feels like it happened in some dark little pocket universe detached from #time. a calm room and then the soft blips of a monitor then the nurse rushing in to say she'd passed #i dont kno y ppl use that phrase: passed on. i mean i do. it softens the topic. makes it sound peaceful. ive yet to use it. i just say she #died bc thats what happened. is that insensitive? i dunno. when i was home i realized that i come off as much stranger than i think. the way #my family see me doesnt fit how i see myself. i dont kno what to do with that. i dunno. theyre all together today #for an early easter. and im halfway across the country again. nose so stuffy ive had to mouth breathe for the last 3 days #and again. everything feels the same as it did before but also profoundly different. sometimes i cry in the mornings. or when i think abt #future vacations she wont be there for. bc in the end she quickly slipped away in a way that couldn't be described as peaceful until her #last half a day. and all i can think about in that tiny room is how scary it would be to lose control like that #and how its not fair and she didnt deserve to die only halfway through a lifetime. but its not about fair and its not about deserving. #sometimes bad things just happen. that's life. and now i own a book called motherless daughters. and now im standing with the countless #others who've lost their moms too early. ive already become aware of 3 ppl in my daily life who are in the same club #i keep thinking about this moment that happened between my parents at the hospital. apparently my dad was helping her get cleaned up and her #stomach was so bloated she looked like she had a bby in there. which my dad said. and my mom apparently said: but it's a baby no one want. i #dont kno y that upsets me so much. all the things i heard abt her being in the hospital before i got there upset me. and the rest of my #family was there to see it. so i have the least traumatic version of the story. and i got almost 27 years with her. except my sisters #probably got more time with her bc i spent so much time away. or maybe not. i dunno. #i dunno. im just sad that shes gone and sad that it was drawn out even a little bit. 6 days isnt long but im sure it felt like an eternity. #again not fair. nothings fair. 53 years of unfairness culminating in a tragedy. she would hate me characterizing it like that. she lived a #full life as they say. full with an asterisk on account of length #unrelated

[arsonist-chicken]

I think my university should pay me for emotional damages for having to write a thesis exposé. To the amount of whatever I need to go on a short trip to Helsinki to recharge from this bs and to get a tattoo and a coffin full of Fazer chocolates.

#i've been in the library since 6pm or so and have not gotten a single letter done #because i genuinely Do Not Know what to write about this #i don't WANT to write a thesis; having to write a thesis will be my last straw to a break-down if that terminography seminar doesn't do it #and i don't get the point of a thesis anyway. no one but me and my advisor and maybe two examinors will read it #i'll not bring forth any important new knowledge to use #even if i did magically discover some groundbreaking new way to teach second languages - which is not the focus of my paper #like i wanted because the head of institute said no - it would still mean nothing because no one's gonna read it anyway #i'm literally just some rando with subpar grades and papers and motivation and dedication to my studies except for the classes i like #and feel like i'm actually learning something important #which is another point: I'm studying translation and interpreting. I'll do a final translation exam in both language directions. #why is that not enough for a degree? it's literally what I study. i couldn't give less of a shit about scientific theories about translatio #yes you should hear about them sometime and it can be useful. but i don't give a single fuck about research etc. #i want to translate and subtitle and maybe at some point interpret. and add a second language besides english because well #the job market but also very importantly my own interests #can't take the swedish course because it interferes with another class; can take a ukrainian class but it's very low-level #can't take a polish or bosnian or serbian or croatian class because they only have higher levels right now #could take a chinese or japanese class but it's... a lecture? with 40+ people in it? how are you supposed to learn a language from a lectur #tried a portuguese class once but the teacher was absolutely awful. nice but so bad at teaching. #and every now and then i think maybe i should learn how to teach a language to someone because oh my GOD would i love to help people #coming here to learn german in ways they'll actually use and see them improve and help them be excited about learning! #or go somewhere else and teach german maybe while also learning the language of the country i'm in #and i thought maybe writing a thesis about second language acquisition and teaching would be a nice way to find out how interested #i am in that actually. but no. my topic now is... hold on. hmmm. #man i'M not even sure. i submitted something and my advisor wrote me an email with a different suggestion for the title #and idk what i'm supposed to write about. not saying the depression isn't playing a role too but damn am i not excited about this #which is. a great start to writing a thesis when 90% of your work ethic comes from being excited about something or interested init #'The preparation of translation-oriented language competence at school using the example of English lessons at Austrian High Schools' #ah yes. someone help me write an exposé about that. #i don't know how and what to include and I don't want to either #come onnnnnn two days ago being at the library helped at least a little bit but now i've been here 3+ hours and i've got nothing

[latenightsinmay]

personal vent/problem post idk how you call those but whatever. i need to get it out somehow so fuck it. if anyone feels like going through the tags. 1st why would you do that to yourself?. 2nd help a girl out pls

#re: my last post and the 'is this how people function or is it just me' crisis so bear with me even tho its wayy too tmi and personal #yes i did try talking to one of my friends when it first became a SituationTM but she has life going on and i didnt pust bc im in denial #now its a month later and SituationTM: sequel has happened #shortest version of situation 1: a guy kissed me (and then we continued doing that for a while. but nothing more) after a date #spent the whole time thinking about what im doing. that its weird and that i probably was bad at it. only thoughts no feelings #and i walked away from there feeling very 'people like doing that????? i dont want to do it again' <- this is the problem area! #anyways short context i knew him from other things before and he started flirting with me and asked me on a date over texts #now i said yes bc he was funny and nice and i did entertain those messages bc it was fun and it felt nice #idk the protocol for this yall. how do you judge if you say yes or no to a date (that was the first time someone asked me out seriously)<- #so i was not head over heels. but also i would not say yes or make out with a stranger bc thats just weird for me personally #now SituationTM sequel: another guy i've been friends with for half a year told me a bit ago while he was drunk that he really liked me and #he knows i dont feel the same doesnt expect anything. just wants me to be aware since we're close and he values our friendship #i basically said yeah ur right im sorry. he said thats fine i'll be sad for a bit but no worries. thought u had the right to know #and the thing is we are still friends and it didnt get awkward or anything but. ofc theres a but. #problem area no1 -> he is really nice and i like him. talking to him hanging out. i feel really comfortable around him etc #but when i think about anything in a relationship sense. theres nothing there. or at least i dont recognise that there is. #ik he is hurting and trying to get over it.but i still want to hang out and wont reject him when he spends time with me or hugs me or whate #he did that before anyways. even though i feel that might be making it worse in the long term for him. but i want the hugs and company :( #and i do like that he likes me on some level? is that weird? like i like knowing that im someones fav person #and fuck it would be so much easier if i did have the same feelings. bc i do like him and i trust him and all the things. #i just dont think the feelings i have are the feelings people in relationships have. cus some of my very close friends i feel the same for. #and after the first Situation i thought ok maybe the guy is the problem. but if i try to put this one into his place. its still nopeee. #so uhhh. what the fuck do i do with me? is it the person. is it the gender. is it the relationship in general? which part isnt clicking???? #i could provide additional info to help with that question but im afraid i have no relevant experience info except lack of experience #do with that what you will #if you made it to here im sorry #i will try to word vomit all of this on one of my friends later today if i get enough courage to try and go through with it #(and manage to express my emotions in my native language *gags*)

[13eyond13]

.

#how do people casually bring up that theyre gay at work hahahaha #asking for a friend and MAYBE because i find one of my coworkers cute and she is def of the sort of vibe where its like #i could see her being straight or gay both easily you know #anyways how do i just like float that without it being awks you know what i mean #im not one of those obvious lesbians people default to thinking im straight mostly #anyways!!! girl help i am SO BAD at showing interest and availability but #i feel like some groundwork needs to be laid before i flirt you know #and #im not interested in the game of 'oh you dont know what you are yet or youre probably straight but maybe i can change your mind' hahaha #im too old and tired for that now i just wanna meet someone #who knows for sure they like girls #not just like girls but you know... would be happy to spend the rest of their life with a girl #so i gotta find out #and we never really talk about stuff like dating or relationships so its hard to just casually mention it without it seeming forced #actually maybe this is why social media is useful sometimes you dont always have to find out by asking but #unfortunately i dont use it like at all except for shit like this anymore hmmm ooops #p

[szczylpierdolony]

purchased a pair of shoes.

#they’ll be here sometime next week #i dont buy shoes often so this is big and they’re nice shoes too #both in the sense that they’re real leather and expensive but also bc they’re dressy and i don’t. really have anything like that #i wanted to get loafers but u couldn’t find a pair i liked bc everything was made from vegan leather and o hate that shit #so i got like. balled flats with a strap and they look really cute #i feel bad about the price but also this is just how it is with leather. and also they should last a long time #ughhhhhhh #i need to go thrifting btw #i need some collared short sleeves and maybe i’ll finally find jeans or cool pants #i haven’t bought any clothes except for sweatpants and hoodie for over a year now i think #and these were both sth i actually needed #maybe i’ll wait until march that’s a lucky thrift month in my experience #but also they closed my favourite thrift storeeee ughhhhh #whatever. there are 2 downtown and one near where i live and one near my sisters apartment #ok maybe not near but close enough ig plus if i take a tram from downtown the stop is literally in front of it #maybe i’ll find a dress…. #also i need to rebleach some of my hair bc it’s sooo horrendously patchy #like i did. such a bad job oh god #i’ll do it tomorrow i think #but i am enjoying the pink a ton

[cerealmonster15]

u ever get that like emotional paralysis of doing things Only For Fun but ur like Fearing Ur Own Potential Cringe despite being in the privacy of ur own home and no one’s even seeing what ur up to

#like rn ive had a vague thing in my head like a lil almost fic idea #but just kinda concept not really a full thing #so im telling myself ok. just jot it down as it's coming. #doesnt have 2 be a full story. no one else ever has 2 see it. just do it as an exercise a warm up just get the ideas down in flow #and i looked at the blank page and went @-@ no this is embarassing #girl to who!!!!! #it's not even an embarrassing or sensitive topic #im just. scared for Some Reason ldjfd #maybe im scared bc it is characters ive never written and a fandom ive not really written from #except a partial wip #lol im scared of my own shadow judging my activities i guess!!!!!!!! #is this why i havent finished the other wips too #i had a slight breakthru with one the other day but #even tho i think im unblocked on that one now im. scared to try to progress #scared of it turning out 'bad' i guess???? #is it bc im constatnly hearing other peoples negative self talk about #not feeling perfect at stuff or w/e #and im like absorbing it #theres def uhhh some negativity from a few people in my life that i think is #hghghghg Getting To Me Lately #but indirectly yknow. like not hating on me #but hating on themselves / doing self destructive things #but by constantly tellin me about it + me being in that space has me like ohhhhhhh nooooo im reverting back to my paaaaaaaaaaaast #or perhaps not a full 'past' but kinda that come and go phases #whatever idk if this makes sense outside of my brain but it makes sense to ME