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stylesann · 3 years

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Rebuilding

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary: Steve decides to go back to the 40’s and you hurt.

Warnings: idk? Angst but happy ending

A/N: I have no idea what this is but aaa I feel like it’s bad lol, I just always get in a very angsty and dramatic mood every time that I read a story about Steve leaving so I wanted to do my own twist? Idk, and it’s been yeaaaars since I don’t write anything and also I’m not a native English speaker so I apologise any mistakes. Comments are always welcome 💕 -> written in around 15/04/2021; ->posted 28/05/2021

Masterlist

You stare at the ocean and release all the air you were holding on your lungs. You still felt your body heavy but at least your tears had stoped. You’re fighting hard to keep your thoughts out of your head, to keep your mind calm like the scenario in front of you, an empty beach with the ocean waves rhythmically hitting the shore. The sky had a lot of clouds and it would probably rain soon, but you didn’t mind, it matched you mood.

You could say you were surprised but all you felt was disappointment, sadness and if you were being honest, you felt anger and jealousy. What Peggy had that you didn’t? I mean, you didn’t know the answer and you were sure if you had asked Steve he wouldn’t be able to give you one cause he had spent such a short amount of time with her that he couldn’t be able to actually know all of her. All her flaws, all the quirks. In the past you had thought he didn’t even loved her anymore and was just in love with an image, an illusion he had from his past. But for him to had left you for her you weren’t even sure of that anymore.

You also felt used, replaceable, like you were just kept there cause he couldn’t do better, cause he couldn’t be with her. And now that he could he just tossed you away. You knew Steve wasn’t that kind of guy, but thats how you felt. And no one could tell you how you should feel or deal with it.

So that’s what lead you here. It had all happened hours ago. You saw his old self in that bench and you just felt numb. Bucky tried to hold you, he said that Steve wanted to talk to you but you just left. You had that right didn’t you? You didn’t care about what he had to say, it was all bullshit. You didn’t care about his guilt, or how sorry he was. You didn’t even care to go back to the apartment you shared with him, because you knew if you had gone there you would be stared by a hundred pictures you had with him.

You just wanted to get away. So here you came. You look down to the wedding band on you finger and the engagement ring. You wore both together but it didn’t make sense to have them anymore. You didn’t want any memories from Steve on you so you take them out and feel their light weight on you palm. You knew this was it, it was your way of closure, of ending that part of you life. You take a deep breath and throw them at the sea. There’s no way of seeing them drown but just the thought that you didn’t have them anymore made you lighter.

You turn around, ready to go back to the car that brought you here but you see a familiar figure blocking the way. Bucky.

“How are you feeling, doll?” he says approaching you. You didn’t know how long he was standing there or what he had seen. You wonder if he could see how empty and drained you really were.

“In the moment I’m not feeling anything. I think I’m still mostly numb. But that’s probably for the best, right?” You try to give him a light answer knowing that he lost his best friend too. How could Steve have left him after fighting so long to have him back was beyond you. “Did you know? Did you know what he was gonna do?”

“I did” that was all it took for the tears to start falling from your eyes. Why had Steve told him and not you? You were his wife for gods sake didn’t you deserve at least this? Bucky reaches for you but you push him away.

“Why didn’t h-he tell me? Why did he d-do this?” you hiccup between the words, the tears falling harder than before.

“I think he just didn’t have the guts to. You know he loves you, Y/N-“

“Screw him! If he did, he wouldn’t have done this!” All the feelings you were trying to push down seem to come to surface and tighten their grip on your chest. “I can’t understand why you aren’t angry? Why aren’t you feeling betrayed?”

“He didn’t leave me alone Y/N, he asked us to take care of each other” he has a pleading look on his face while he says that, and you see that the difference between you and him is that he had some time to come to terms with his friends decision, he’s sad but keeping it to himself. He’s trying to be strong for everyone one else who didn’t know, for you mostly.

“I don’t care about what he asked. I’m not staying and I’m not doing what he would want me too. I’m always gonna be there for you Buck, not because he’s wants that but because I care about you. Whatever you need you can call, even if it’s just for a chat, but I’m not staying, i can’t. I am getting into that car and I’m gonna drive away as much as i can, and I’m only stopping when I feel like I’ve put miles between me and this” you say more calm than you were minutes before. You had a plan, it may not be the best one but that’s what you had for now. You didn’t want to be in the same place you lived with Steve, you didn’t want to see the same scenarios you saw with him, you wanted nothing from him. Maybe it was bitter of you, or maybe you didn’t have the best coping mechanism but you needed the distance.

Bucky’s expression seemed to sadden a bit but he understood, he knew this wasn’t easy for you. “I don’t want to change your mind about leaving, so I say the same, if you need anything you call Y/N, got it?” He says as he hugs you firmly.

“Got it” you say in whisper against his shoulder, his arms still around you delaying the last moments he’s gonna have with another friend. You hate to be doing this, he didn’t deserve it you knew it, but you also knew that he wouldn’t be willing to accompany you on your trip, and it was something that you needed to do alone. You were alone.

“You know he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t know you you be able to rebuild your life, right? You’re a strong person” He uses the same tone of voice you had, he probably just didn’t want to trigger you into making your feelings rise again.

“Everyone has the ability to rebuild themselves, Buck. The fact that I’m strong shouldn’t make what he did alright. And I don’t feel much strong now... I just feel like I’m a shell. And even if I do find someone else, how am I going to let them in? How am I supposed to trust anyone with my heart, when the guy I gave all my heart before completely destroyed me?” A single tear fall from your eye, but you hold the rest back. “I’m going to be fine but I don’t even know what that mean anymore.” He just nods to this, and I know there’s nothing left to be said so I head to the car and take a deep breath holding the wheel. This is it.

I look at Bucky while I drive away, he’s still standing where I left him and I hope with everything on me that he will be fine too. Whatever that means.

****************************

The sun is harsh on your eyes slipping through the curtains open frames. You turn your head to the other side and you feel a heavy weight on your waist stopping you from moving further than that. You slowly open your eyes to see Franks figure with his arm on you and his head drowned on the pillow.

You turn again to look at the clock to see it marking 8:47 am. Mary would be up soon, so you slip from Frank taking extra care not to wake him up and head to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast.

“Y/N! Y/N! Can we have pancakes today?!” Mary breaks into the small kitchen excitedly jumping around. Today you and Frank would be taking her to her new math club and she couldn’t be more anxious about it.

“What is going on here” Franks rough morning voice appears on the room. He’s rubbing his eyes and seems to be sleeping still.

“We are making Mary her favourite pancakes for breakfast” you answer them as you get the ingredients on the counter. Mary hugs you and sits straight on the table waiting for you to prepare them.

It had been 6 years since the day you left New York and ended up traveling for a long time through the country only to end up here. Florida. It was hot all the time, you always felt warm but it was distant enough from your past and you felt better about it. You decided that you wanted to rent a small place near the beach and so you found a woman named Roberta, that rented a few houses that fulfilled your wish. You didn’t think twice before accepting her deal.

You weren’t carrying anything on you except for the few clothes that you had bought on your journey so the move was quite simple. And you weren’t expecting to fit in so well here but the fact that as soon as you were settled a little girl, who was maybe 7 at the time, had come to you with a lot of questions that honestly you couldn’t answer warmed you up to the place real fast.

The fact that Mary had managed to always meet up with you but you still had to meet Frank was beyond you. She talked a lot about him “Frank did this today”, “oh did you know Frank let me adopt another cat”, “the first cat Frank got us was Fred, he has only one eye”, and so on. You knew more about him that you probably would by talking to him in person, according to Mary herself. She said he was very closed but had a great heart, she even told you the story about him fighting in justice for her guard. It only made you think he was a great guy who would do anything to protect his niece, and you were sincerely excited to meet him, give the person a face.

However, as it appears that his schedule was always all over the place and you always waking around town and spending many hours on the beach didn’t help with your meeting. You didn’t understand at first too how Mary always found you around, but she explained that whenever she wasn’t studying and Frank was going out with his girlfriend Boni, she stayed with her friend Roberta, who quickly became a good acquaintance of yours.

Either way, Mary had been talking to you for weeks when you finally met Frank. You couldn’t believe your eyes and genuinely thought you were delusional. He looked just like Steve, but the moment he started speaking you could see the differences between the two and the helped you find your foot again.

In the beginning you were hesitant about spending time with Mary and Frank, who surprised Mary with the news that he had gotten a more stable job. According to him, he still fixed boats but for a company that payed well. You were happy for him but the memories his face brought still made you want distance.

During the four years you traveled around you had let him go, all of him. You had been trough all the grief stages and learnt how to do well with your own company, you didn’t need anyone else. But looking at his face had the effect of hitting you with a sad resigned feeling and you didn’t like it. But Mary always spoke so highly of her uncle that you knew keeping your distance from both because of memories wasn’t fair.

Frank, of course notice that you never iniciantes any conversation with him and he wondered if Mary had introduced the same woman she said was talkative and affectionated. He asked you about it and it wasn’t until you answered with sincerity that he understood. Since then he was more careful in your presence which you appreciated.

With time though, you warmed up to him, he was a good guy you never doubted that. You became close friends and when him and Boni broke up you helped him. It was a mutual break up but it’s never easy.

You friendship was going great until you notice him treating you differently than he would before and you realised he was slowly catching feelings for you. Obviously being romantically involved with him was the last thing you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to change the way things were going between you two and that’s what led you to this moment.

In a car, dropping Mary off to her math club, with Frank by your side and the promise that it would be okay. It had to. You took so long to let him in that now you didn’t want to let go, and you doubt Frank wanted anything but stay. Bucky said the same when he came to visit you and Frank. You look at him and you see him smile at you.

“You think he’s gonna be a mini genius?” He asks looking at the small bump on your belly.

“If he gets MY genes, obviously” I sass laughing.

“Ha, you know the genius genes it’s on my side of the family Mrs. Adler” he chuckles.

“On your dreams” you smile. It you be okay.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #frank adler #frank adler x reader

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polar-stars · 3 years

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Nene Kinokuni & the main theme of “Shokugeki no Soma”

You thought I was done talking about Nene? HA

Okay but I’ve been looking at a specific manga panel again & eventually a train of thought started to roam my head.

What we see here are the reactions of four of the Elites that voted Central into power after having witnessed Rindou’s and Eishi’s loss, therefore Central’s loss as a whole.

Can we talk about the fact how Nene actually looks the most...hurt about that maybe?

I mean, Somei honestly looks kind off glad about it, which does make sense since he seemed to visibly regret his decision after his match against Soma. Somei is that guy that acted with good interest in mind, and a sense of justice, but was lured into an extreme solution. Which is something I can’t really say about any of the other Traitor Elites (I mean, being real we have barely gotten much detailing to their individual reasoning for helping out Azami but that’s another problem for another day.)

Momo looks completely unaffected by what just happened, while Eizan looks...kind off bummed ig?

Out of these four, Nene really does looks the most like what I would call “sad”. She looks truly crushed by this revelation.

A little mind game for you: Imagine having devoted your entire life to something, imagine already being insecure about people surpassing you in an area you studied so hard for, imagine being beat at the thing that’s most important to you while the person who was always ahead of you succeeds right next to you.

My girl really went through quite some suffering if you really start thinking about it.

Top student of her class, who always aimed for perfection. And then the RDC comes along and she suffered through what might have been her first major failure in front of over one hundred eyes.

Now this is the part where I try my best to sound smart and talk about themes.

I’d say that the closest to a major theme the series of “Shokugeki no Soma” has would be the thematic of failure.

Our main hero Soma Yukihira talks of “failure” as a sort of inspiration. He recognizes mistakes he made, learns out of them and improves through them. That’s his philosophy & strongly opposes that of our main heroine, Erina Nakiri who starts out as a through & through perfectionist who was never allowed to make the tiniest of mistakes.

The theme of “failure” constantly reappears in the story, in both the strong parts & weaker parts of it.

Soma’s dish in the Autumn Election Premlins is basically a fusion of two dishes that “failed” him before (his omelette from the Trainings Camp that had him in danger of getting expelled & the risotto he made in his cook-off against his father, which he lost), the major antagonist of several arcs named Central is all about perfectionism with the 1st seat Eishi Tsukasa being a notorious perfectionist as well, in his final fight against Asahi Soma makes a dish inspired by his mother who was known for being a bad cook, but who had fun being one...

I think what “Shokugeki no Soma” wants to teach us is that it’s natural for us to stumble at times, but that it’s nothing we should beat ourselves up over. No one can walk a straight, perfect line in their life and it’s okay. Mistakes can teach us and we can get up again as well...!

I can’t really say that it was always done very well, but still this message resonates with me on a very personal level. I really like it.

And now let me spiral back to Nene.

Nene is another character that strived for perfection and is characterized as someone who works incredibly hard to master whatever she picked to study. She also sided with Central, which is also all about perfectionism as I said.

Remember when I said that there’s still work you could have done with Nene after the RDC arc was over?

Yeah, honestly with that failure Nene ended up suffering I really think there could have been a loot of character work done with her.

Like how about just showing her cope with what happened? Show her, trying to understand why the philosophy of the rebels beat theirs? Something like that?

I just genuinely believe that Nene is a sort-off person who’d struggle dealing with failing in the way that she did and that it would have an actual impact on her. And her working through that would fall perfectly in line with the main theme the manga has going on.

Post-RDC could have been a perfect chance for her to also understand the people surrounding her a little better as well, I think? Like take Eizan for example! No, this is not for shippy reasons. I promise...hear me out, okay? She belittled him for his loss against Soma & also considered herself superior to him because she has an actual moral-code. But eventually she ends up in the same boat with him: she also looses against Soma, Central (something which they both supported after all) looses as a whole and while their senpais get to run off little later through graduation, they have to stay at Totsuki, dethroned. What a perfect chance to getting to know and understand each other in a way that wasn’t there before, finding a way to get those seats back and maybe giving Eizan an actual redemption arc instead of just inserting him back into the council over night with no real indication wether he’s still a bitch or has become more tame, which surely isn’t something Tsukuda would do, right? Heh. (Okay maybe...this....did get a little bit shippy, pardon ahdhd)

ANYWAY

The point I’m really just trying to make here, through many, many words is that while Soma’s Shokugeki against Nene heavily scratched her character and I’m still very bitter and unhappy over it, I do not think there was any need to shaft her as much as the manga did when the RDC got concluded.

There was a good chance for actual character work and character development here, that could have also played into the series’ centric theme.

& She frankly could have come back as more stronger and badass than ever.

But yeah, instead she was ignored in the manga while the anime adaptation...tried but I feel she was reduced to much of a satellite character in that one, personally. And I just think they could have done better and more, meep.

In the end all I can do is......write a Nene-centric multi chapter fanfic of course and take 6 years to finish it because I’m very slow and-

Okay but I think one thing that I want to achieve with these posts is just to get the community think about her a little more, because...ultimately I feel she’s being a little bit overlooked by the fandom as well, and maybe I can inspire some people to work with her in a way that Tsukuda wasn’t able to...Idk, I just want justice for Nene ig.

Now anyway, you finally made it to the end of this post...Congratulation! Here’s a cookie!

Hopefully what I said made any sense and any of you could get a little something out of it! Thanks for reading ;v; !

#Shokugeki no Soma #Nene Kinokuni #(I had some time on my hands before my next online meeting and just started to typed whooops- Now we here)

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the-littlewonders · 4 years

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so i just finished watching Boku No Hero Academia: Heroes Rising and i have Thoughts

this film was so good and so bad at the same time. i’m going to try to keep it as spoiler free as possible but i think if you have yet to watch it, just avoid this entire post completely.

what i liked about the film in no particular order:

1. the team work class A displayed throughout the film. i love, love, love the dynamics set out in the anime and continued through to the film. this class is special because although there are preferred combos of friends working together, for example kirishima is often seen with bakugo and froppy is often with uraraka, this film challenged those dynamics and the characters are versatile and are able to work well with any of their classmates

2. leadership shining through during different types of crisis/challenges. i enjoyed seeing Iida and Yaomomo leading the class. i realise i tend to forget that Iida is the class rep because often times it’s just emphasised in the school setting. he does take the lead during fights and the provisional exam but often overshadowed by deku. it is understandable but this film showed him actively leading the class to carry out hero work which is brilliant

3. the entire class definitely showed improvements and growth of their quirks. i enjoyed seeing kaminari using his quirk responsibly and efficiently. in contrast to his usual expansion of power for one killer shot and becoming useless almost immediately, he was shown time and again to effectively use his quirk and even being one of the key factors to deku and bakugo’s survival during the ultimate fight

4. deku’s leadership development. i think it’s very clear after countless fights that deku has inspired the rest of his classmates to do their very best and they even acknowledge his strength. in the past everyone was sort of on the same playing field because he was still struggling to cope from the side effects of his immense power. but i think this film really showed how they valued him as a classmate and as a leader. he has more confidence now and really i think the rest of class 1A is willing to follow him till the end of the line

5. teamwork during fights. ok i did list it as my first point but i’m going to go back to it again. there were many fronts of fighting in this film and my heart swells with happiness when i see how each and every one of them was so ready to respond to the crisis and just Get The Fuck To Safety.

In the early seasons of the anime everyone sort of had the mentality a hero’s job is to fight a villian. but from their experiences, top priority has now changed to saving everyone and getting Everyone to safety. by everyone, means even the heroes. the countless close saves and prompt misdirection to just Yeet The Fuck out of there to save their classmates was A plus. They have gotten it down to a T to save anyone and everyone out of harm’s way. Really endearing 10/10 character developments. Class 1A is really top hero quality

What i disliked about the film in no particular order:

1. the clear push and agenda for bakugo and midoriya friendship (comaraderie?) i know i’ve gushed about how all the students of class 1A had brilliant development but the amount of time and focus given to bakugo and midoriya was a bit much to the point of cringey. like i Get It that they are rivals and have to work together against a common enemy. but it was at the expense of really pushing everyone else away.

there’s somewhat of a dream team set up in the anime which was midoriya, bakugo, todoroki, Iida and maybe kirishima? like ok at least todoroki is part of this stronger dynamic. but he was Pushed Out of this dynamic leaving only the two most estranged pair to fight the main guy alone. which is a bit Much. i really don’t want to spoil it but if you watch the film, you’ll know what i’m talking about.

there’s just one point my friends and i literally went “WHAT IS THIS. WHY” In the theatre i kid you not.

2. the stamina of class 1A for some reason is very low??? physical stamina that is. also all of a sudden todoroki is very weak??? both physically and in terms of battle readiness/quick thinking?? it wasn’t as if the villains felt overpowered in any way. like i felt the nomus they had to face were far far worse but i don’t know why in this film they were painted to be exhausted very quickly???

3. too much/too forceful in the being a hero agenda. like i get it, midoriya inspires kids like kota-kun that hero’s aren’t so bad. idk why maybe cause i watched season 4 and saw how not so forced it is to be pushing the hero agenda when saving Eri. but seeing the older sister kick up a fuss about hating heroes and then midoriya apologising just feels a bit much. bakugo had every right to be annoyed.

i felt the characters can stay the same but a different dialogue perhaps or a different back story with their dad could make it seem less forced or awkward. like maybe give some basis and reason for the sister to actually hate heroes.

4. todoroki was very weak??? i’m repeating point 2 because i am Mad about this. How, tell me how on earth did he perform so badly? it’s like he’s just creating ice for fun instead of fighting. the director or animators didn’t do justice for him in this film considering how strong and smart he is in the anime. he really took a step back here.

5. poor resolution of the film and poor use of the small kid’s abilities throughout the film. when midoriya made the decision to do what he had to do, i was convinced the way to correct and resolve the conflict was with the help of the new quirk introduced of the small kid. but NO. by the power of plot armour and magical fairies in the anime world, the film was resolved Just Like That. The potential of the new quirk and the crazy move done by midoriya was just thrown in the wind like a random thought never to see the light again. at least for the previous film midoriya made full use of the gauntlet he was gifted. this he just used the quirk for recovery and that was it.

ok that’s all for now. maybe i’ll add more in future. if anyone has watched it i would like to read your Thoughts.

#boku no hero academia #heroes rising #thoughts #bnh #boku no hero #movie #midoriya #bakugo #todoroki

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countessrivers · 4 years

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do you have any headcanons for Bruce and his (many) father figures? would love to hear them if you do!!!

Canon era:

The first one, and it’s not so much a head canon as it is just canon but some people are idiots who clearly didn’t watch the show, after his parents’ death, Bruce got 2 new dads who co-parented him over the next 6-7 years. Their names are Alfred Pennyworth and Jim Gordon and they explain so much about who and what Bruce Wayne turns out to be.

They both parent/treat Bruce quite differently. Alfred very much treats Bruce like an adult. He lets Bruce take charge of his own life and make significant decisions about his health and well-being on his own (decisions that arguably 12 year olds, especially grieving 12 year olds maybe shouldn’t be making but w/e). He encourages Bruce to take responsibility for his choices, and for the consequences of his crime-fighting, and often focuses on the practicalities and limitations of what they’re doing, and in a wider sense, how Gotham and the world works. Things like trying to keep Bruce focused on preparing for Ra’s, rather than helping the city, warning him against getting other people involved and that it will be on Bruce if they’re hurt helping him, scepticism that anything good can get done within the law with all the corruption in Gotham, telling Bruce to buck up and move on after Selina lies to him/hurts him, letting Bruce reject therapy and grief counselling, etc. I think this stems at least in part from Alfred’s role as the family butler for the first 12 years of Bruce’s life. Bruce is both his ward and employer, there is a distance and a formality there, and this idea that Bruce is in charge of his own destiny as it were, and should be treated as such, with all the responsibility that goes along with that.

Jim, for all that he sees Bruce as a kind of moral true north, someone that he looks to for guidance and a purpose, views Bruce very much as a child, and treats him as such. And it’s probably because Bruce is a child, but maybe also, as the years go on too, because he’ll never get the image of 12 year old Bruce, in that alley, out of his head. Jim sees Bruce as someone who should be protected from the worst of the world. He’ll be honest with Bruce, but he’ll also try and shield him from as much as he can, like when he hesitates over him not being long for this world because Oswald is alive and Falcone/Zsasz are after him. Bruce will often ask or demand the truth, and while Jim often caves, he does what he can to protect Bruce from the harsher parts of reality. He clashes with Alfred quite regularly over this - over Bruce being exposed to the idea of killing Matches, over Alfred letting Bruce run around and put himself in danger (Jim actually tells Alfred that he’s the adult, and so he is allowed to search his son’s room and go through his stuff and read his diary if it keeps him from getting into trouble), things like that. He’ll often try to alleviate any guilt Bruce might be feeling, particularly when it involves someone getting hurt helping them, insisting that it wasn’t Bruce’s fault. I also see Jim as encouraging Bruce’s more idealistic side - he often tells him not to give up hope when they hit a wall and things look bleak, and their talks often involve the idea of the good that can be done, and how Gotham and its people can be helped, because I think that’s what drives Jim too - ideals, and a devotion to helping people, rather than practicalities. And these “parenting styles” kind of balance each other out, or at least Bruce picks up bits and pieces, and they noticeably shape him, but I actually find it hilarious that the show has multiple scenes, across multiple seasons, of Jim and Alfred arguing over how best to parent Bruce.

Jim had a troubled youth after the accident/losing his father, and coped with it even worse than Bruce does, which is why he gets it. He looks at Bruce’s coping mechanisms, the way he’s hurting himself, his breakdowns, etc, and he gets it. He wants Bruce to stop, wants him to get help, to do better than he did, but he gets it. He knows how it feels. He did all of that, and more, and he knows you can’t just flick a switch and be better. He knows that the guilt and the anger and the pain eats away at you. He also knows that there’s a light at the end, and that’s what he tries to give Bruce from the start. Hope, and understanding that Bruce is struggling, desperate to feel or not feel, and it may be unhealthy, but Jim at least understands why.

Harvey’s not entirely sure when he started looking at Bruce as more than just that random kid whose parents died and that Jim was weirdly fond of, but at some point he did. The kid’s sweet, if a bit odd, freakishly smart, and all the worst best parts of Jim. He’s a good kid, and Harvey sometimes worries about what Gotham’s going to do to him. He worries about that goodness being ground out of Bruce, the way Harvey’s seen it ground out of so many people.

Lucius loved Thomas, and that’s not the only reason why he helps Bruce (Lucius himself is a good man, who wants to make the city better) but it’s part of it. He wants to keep Thomas’ boy safe, wants to help him grow up into a strong, beautiful, good man. Sometimes he looks as Bruce and he’ll see Thomas, sometimes he’ll see Martha, but he knows that both of them would be so proud of who Bruce becomes.

Jim and Bruce try as much as they can to get together for lunch or dinner or something, just to catch up (Jim eventually made it over to the manor for dinner at some point in S4). Alfred and Harvey meet up for drinks on the regular.

During No Man’s Land, Alfred, Harvey and Lucius took turns dragging both Jim and Bruce away from work to get them to eat and/or sleep. They’d work themselves into the ground if they could. They’d also both insist on the other getting some rest, even as they stubbornly tried to carry on themselves.

Idk who gave Bruce the sex talk, but I know that whoever it was, it would have been terrible and awkward (was it Jim and did he warn Bruce about the perils of falling for beautiful people who were also crazy and/or evil and at least a little homicidal? Not that Bruce, or Jim for that matter would ever take the advice).

When Jim tells Bruce off for risking his life or putting himself needlessly in harms way, Bruce has to try really hard not to shout “I LEARNED IT FROM WATCHING YOU DAD!”

The show kind of dropped the ball on exploring this, but there’s no way Bruce didn’t pick up at least a few detective skills from Jim.

Bruce and his various father figures are just basically that one cartoon where two people are stretching and bending over each other to put themselves in front of a gun.

They all miss Bruce terribly when he leaves.

Bruce would have liked the moustache.

Future (Batfam) headcanons:

Babs feels like she knows Bruce long before she meets him because she’s spent the first 9 years of her life hearing Jim talk about him.

Bruce comes over to the Gordon-Thompkins for dinner not long after the finale, meets Babs properly for the first time, and immediately falls in love. Barbara Lee Gordon has Uncle Bruce wrapped around her finger (she has them all wrapped around her finger).

Jim knows Bruce is Batman, that’s established in the finale, but for a while they dance around the subject, not saying anything outright. He talks about it a bit more openly with Harvey, Lucius too maybe, but both him and Bruce avoid talking about it directly. He does thank him though, to his face, for saving Babs.

That night at the circus, Bruce tells Dick the same thing that Jim told him. He sits down next to him, tells him his name, tells him he understands, and tells him that one day, there will be light.

I can’t decide who ultimately puts the symbol on the floodlight, but Jim’s the one that starts using it to call Batman.

Bruce has stuck tracking devices in all of them, long before he starts doing it to his kids. Jim in particular is prone to kidnapping, and it’s honestly such a time saver.

Jim and Bruce both start not so secretly planning the wedding once it becomes clear that Dick and Babs like-like each other. They’re thrilled about it (if the wedding does happen, then Harvey’s officiating).

The cops, especially those that work in whatever building the Commissioner’s office is in, know the various Wayne kids about as well as they know Babs, because they’re in and out and always hanging around. Particularly Cass, who splits her time mainly between Bruce, and Babs and Jim.

There are regular dinners over at the Manor. The Waynes and the Gordons, usually, but often enough Harvey or Lucius will be there too. For any big holiday they celebrate early, given that they’ll all need to be ready and on hand because of course the Rogues are going to try and ruin Christmas by poisoning the water supply or something else over the top and ridiculous.

So much of what Batman is stems from that original conversation with Jim. Bruce never forgets, never stops thinking about those words. The trauma of his parents’ death shaped him, but he was shaped just as much by a single cop sitting down next to him, being kind, and promising not just justice, but light and hope as well. Bruce wanting to be that, whether as Batman or Bruce Wayne. Offering it to the city, the victims he saves as Batman, his own children.

They’re family okay. They’re all just one big loving family that also happens to fight crime, sometimes while wearing a cape.

Bonus: Oswald is by no means a father figure to Bruce, but he’s undeniably fond of him, admires his good, kind heart. He sees a lot of Jim in him, which is part of it, but he also, for everything that he himself is, just appreciates that in others (it part of what has always drawn him back to Jim).

#half of these aren't even headcanons #more like things i noticed in the show and am emotional about #they're also mostly about Jim oops #bruce wayne #jim gordon #alfred pennyworth #gotham #harvey bullock #lucius fox

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shaekingshitup · 4 years

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Same Room (JP3 Part 2)

A/N: Hello boos! Here’s part 2 of The JP3 series. Again, this is based on a song that I enjoy by JP Saxe which you can find here. Idk what to say except for... sorry in advance.

A MILLION THANKS TO @glittermakesmesmile because she’s a whole gem!

_________________________________

“Aww man, I forget about this day” Nia thought as she paused her swiping. She sat on the floor of her bedroom with her head laying back on her bed. A sad smile inhabited her features as she reminisced on the impromptu beach date she and Erik had on a midsummer July day. He’d decided to call out of work and give himself a three day weekend to spend more time with her in anticipation of being apart for an entire week as she was going on her annual Girls Trip the following Monday.

“The Ted Talk said don’t do this Nia,” she groaned aloud. If her friends knew what she was doing, they would confiscate her whole ass phone in a heartbeat. Thank goodness her secret album of all of their photos was password protected and unable to be located due to a newly downloaded app. Her friends had helped her get rid of all of his things once the split happened. His boxers, date night movie stubs, old museum tickets, the pine cone that she scooped up after their first picnic, it was all gone. The jewelry she kept. Her friends were trying to help her cope but they weren’t stupid. They told her to pawn it but it still sat stashed in the back of her closet.. along with her favorite sweatshirt of his. It was all she had left. Well, that and the photos.

They didn’t do him justice. She should know. She’d just seen him that night for the first time in a month. She knew he was going to be at the concert tonight. Hell, they’d bought the tickets together under the assumption that they’d be going to the concert the same way. She didn’t expect to turn around and see him in the VIP looking good as hell though. She loved to be up front and as close to the artist as possible so she always went for General Admission.

“I wonder if it was his idea,” Nia thought contemplating his upgrade from GA to VIP. “Was it because of me?”

Based on her first glance, he and his friends were there for more than just the music. She’d continued to steal a few more glances at him throughout the night as he sat on the slightly raised platform with the small tables and scantily clad bottle service girls hanging around like pretty decorations.She wasn’t the only one looking as she noticed Erik was checking her and her girls playing it off as if he was genuinely interested in the DJ that was getting the crowd ready. They both pretended they didn’t see each other lookin-especially for the sake of their friends, who were doing their parts to establish barriers between she and Erik. Her friends went as far as to escort her to the bathroom, so that her path wouldn’t intersect with his and spawn an awkward conversation. It wasn’t even the awkwardness that Nia was worried about, just the thought of, “Hey, how are you?” simply hurt too much. It was all too fresh for her.

She thought back to when that guy had approached her between the opener’s set and the headliner’s. Paul was his name. He was cute and he’d done such a great job of shooting his shot that she couldn’t help but laugh at all that he’d said. But even as he smiled down at her saying all the right things, all she could think about was Erik. Was he watching her? What were his thoughts? Was he jealous? Was he happy for her for moving on? Is this still what he wanted? As she’d let Paul down easy, she had looked back and found one of those bottle girls perched on his knee but his gaze was looking past her to Nia.

Thankfully, the show began and she was able to get swept up in the performance. Afterwards, her bodyguards had gotten her out to the parking lot and were plottin on where to eat, but she wasn’t feeling it. So instead she came back home, warmed up some leftover pasta, and had been sitting on her phone scrolling through the memories ever since. She wanted so desperately to text him. Better yet, to call him and hear his voice again. But they’d both decided that this was the best thing to do.

She paused coming upon a photo she’d taken of him in Livraria Lello. She reflected upon when his work had taken him out of California for almost a month, as he trekked to various states and eventually across continents. On his final leg of travel, he’d FaceTimed her and asked her to come meet him before he came back home. There’d been no hesitation, no thought of saying no. She’d simply called out sick for work the next day and caught her flight to Portugal the same evening. They’d spent the weekend laid up together, sightseeing in between his final meetings. It was one of the first times they’d travelled together and everything was perfect. They were inseparable.

“I guess that was the problem,” she thought.

“Now we can’t even be in the same room.” she spoke aloud closing the app and her eyes as well.

______________________________

PART 3

Tagged: @twistedcharismaaa @mygirlrenee @glittermakesmesmile @sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy @shewrites02 @ghostfacekill-monger @raysunshine78 @shewritestheblues @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @fd-writes @eyeknowmywrites @thadelightfulone

#shaekingspeaks #same room #jp3 #erik x oc #erik killmonger #erik stevens x reader #erik stevens #erik killmonger x oc

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enchantressmoon · 5 years

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Jtv Rant - apologies

Ok so I’ve got a little rant about jtv bc I need to get it off my chest.

So I was a Micheal and Jane shipper from day one but since Micheal’s death was hinted so early on in the show I kept that to the forefront of my mind and actually expected him to die in season one. Then they got married and maybe I thought he’d die in his 80’s of a stroke or something idk but it got my hopes up for a bit. Then Micheal died, for real, and I cried and grieved a lil it was very sad.

However I felt his death was very well done. I was so happy when Jane immediately didn’t get back with Rafeal and watching her date other people and choose others worked very well and watching her grieve over Micheal and get over him in her own time and way was well paced and I enjoyed watching it.

I believe that then falling for Rafeal later worked even more so as you could see her fit with him so much more over characters such as Adam. I feel doing it this way allowed everyone to really appreciate Rafeal and his growth from season one really apparent and I was so pleased when they were finally together again. I felt it was realistically written felt incredibly natural and I admire Rafeal in coping with things the way he did and how hard it would have been for him especially in situations such as with Rolegio and him not having the same bond and also that the writers didn’t intend to just put Rafeal exactly in Micheal’s place and respected them as very different characters.

I felt this was the most respectful jafeal end game they could have given to Micheal’s character and cordueva shippers. It left Micheal’s characters impact on the characters and Jane and Micheal’s relationship meant something, it was worth while and key in so many aspects of Jane’s life and although sad was something she could reflect upon positively. Over all Micheal’s life and death meant something.

By the time the season 4 finale rolled around I was rooting for Rafeal and excited for his proposal.

Then came what I believe to have been the biggest plot twist in the entire show.

I couldn’t have guessed where they were going to go with it although I knew Micheal wouldn’t have left Jane. I also didn’t believe that Jane would leave Rafeal for Micheal after everything they’d been through. I didn’t know where this would lead but the writers hadn’t disappointed me before and I believed they had such a clear idea of where they were going with this and they would do it well. Right??

Wrong???

I didn’t think Micheal’s memories would come back so early into the season and frankly I was disappointed when they did. It was such a big moment to come around so fast it felt rushed. I accepted his memories may not come back and that would have made sense but this felt too soon all together.

Then Jane went to Micheal and it felt like the writers were dangling the ending the cordueva fans wanted over their heads like a carrot whilst simultaneously reading and winding up the jafeal fans. I assumed making such a big decision would be end game worthy as this was a bold move and Micheal wasn’t some cheap shock effect ploy.

I was wrong.

Micheal regained his feelings for Jane and was quite literally left in the dirt as once again he put her before himself despite everything. This is not justice for his character. While they tried to soften the blow by his acceptance of this and Jane’s decision and Jane’s empathy to him this wasn’t enough. In one episode it was over and Micheal is yet to be mentioned again.

I also felt sympathy for Rafael’s character at the time as he didn’t deserve to suffer after coming so far. Especially when his depression hit.

Fast forward to the most recent episode (12) all I can say is: What was the point?

Jafeal back together in a forced dance routine was the icing on the cake for me. A celebration for the predictable??? Even while in Montana I had my doubts of Jane and Micheal’s relationship resuming and I was correct. Jane and Rafeal’s relationship became innevitable and I was sick of watching her try and win him back yet again. I felt some pleasure watching him stand up for himself being second best but I knew it was not to last. I was bored watching their relationship blossom once more as it was far less engaging than that of season four, that felt right and worked on this was quick and cheap and you could feel the time constraints of the last season closing in. So to celebrate this with a dance number did not make an ounce of sense. I didn’t feel over joyed, I felt bored as essentially nothing had changed from season 4 to now it was a delayed and forced celebration of the inevitable which was almost cringeworthy, although this may not had been if this was the end of season 4 preposal instead of them getting back together after numerous break ups.

The beginning of season 5 had absolutely no impact in the plot and could have been cut out entirely with no implacations on the final result.

It tarnished Micheal’s character into nothing more than shock effect to be left and never spoken about again.

When Micheal was dead, his death meant something to everyone specially Jane. Micheal’s death helped Rafeal grow and be there for Jane and proved to both her and himself he could be the man he deserved.

Rafeal’s depression could still have been written into the show under another cause, which I believe would have been more beneficial to the show giving him an extra story line of his own not including Jane and could have had much more of an impact in men’s mental health on screen if it had not been relationship based.

I assume maybe they tried to answer the question “would Jane have chose Rafeal if Micheal was still alive?” If so they didn’t do that. She said this made Rafeal her first choice. But she did believe Micheal was dead for four years in which point he took on a new identity, which would not have happened if he he had “stayed alive” the past for years. So you could still argue that Jane would still be with Micheal so to an extent that question remains unanswered

This ripped up Micheal’s character and lessened the impact he had worked for. There was no justice for Micheal. I wish Micheal had stayed dead.

I seriously hope the writers can find a way to write their wrongs.

This isn’t from a point of bitterness of being a cordueva shipper or the idea that “my team lost” as that was cruelly weavesd into Alba’s lines to pit fans against each other. It’s simply an observation of poor writing and what a rushed timescale can do to a great show. I hope they improve

#jtv #jtv spoilers #jane x micheal #michael cordero #cordueva #jane the virgin #jtv 5x12 #jtv critism #jane the virgin critism

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fma2003-fmab-stuff · 5 years

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FMA 03 Month Day 1 Favorite/Least Favorite Male Character

I promised to do this so here we are.

My favorite character is Edward (predictable, right?)

There are several aspects of his character I’m going to be going into, so try to bare with me.

First is Edward’s struggle with comforting people.

Unlike Al, who has an affinity for reasoning and often being more gentle with his wording, Ed is more blunt and honest to the point of sometimes upsetting people. It is because of this bluntness however that Rose is given courage later on when she stands up to Hakuro and the military who is terrorizing Lior, quoting back Ed’s words to her on not only that occasion but multiple occasions, including the most impactful version of this where Rose forces herself to push past her trauma and begins to speak again:

…

Edward is flawed individual

I know that some people want their protagonists/main characters be perfect saints who never did anything wrong, role models, but more than virtues or moral, I look for relatability and vulnerability in a character, a character that has struggled, a character that I can I can relate to or at least understand to some degree, a character that isn’t perfect.

He failed to save Nina despite being suspicious of Shou Tucker before hand. He tried to bring back his mother, costing him his arm and leg and his brother his entire body. He’s quick to temper and is a total hothead, and has quite the mouth. He’s reckless, regularly picking fights with the people around him, and yet despite all that he still has a soft and idealistic side beneath it all.

And because of Ed’s childish naivety, he often leaves destruction in his wake and a path of havoc just by trying to do the right thing, taking what happened in Lior as an example.

As a child, he was stubborn, and a total brat sometimes, just like how a kid should be.

Above that, he’s relatable.

Many of us were hyperactive and brats as kids but also seeking approval from our parent or guardian, many of us have a family member that we feel estranged from, that we don’t really know what to feel about, sometimes we grow to hate them for their absence, most of us have somebody we’ve lost. Most of us have somebody that’d we’d like to bring back if we had the power. Some of us have somebody we’d like to blame for everything wrong in our lives.

And most of us have somebody that we treasure probably more than anybody else around(Al in Ed’s case)

And, hell, many of us have had a similar struggle with the notion of “God” due to our struggles, just as Ed has, whether we now are atheist/agnostic or actually do follow a religion.

And honestly one of the most heartbreaking aspects of Edward’s character is the way he clings onto Equivalent Exchange as not only the founding principle of alchemy but also as the way of the world. Just like with Alphonse, believing in that principle is his way of coping with and rationalizing everything he’s been through and done in his life.

…

Edward doesn’t shape his environment, his environment shapes him.

This is not something you see much in anime, where a character is forced to change and conform to the world while also still being engaging. Usually, like in Naruto or Bleach, it’s the main character changing everybody around them and inspiring people everywhere they go.(which isn’t a bad thing per say, it’s just something we see in basically every anime)

However, FMA 2003 isn’t really much like that. You have multiple characters who actively challenges and/or changes Edward’s mindset at points(in both good and bad ways depending on the characters), from Hughes, Ross, to Shou Tucker, to Greed, to Scar, to Dante, to Lust, to Roy, Izumi, Alex, Hohenheim and basically everybody else around him.

Throughout the series, Edward changes drastically, going from somebody who avoided things that didn’t directly have anything to do with him, who didn’t believe in murder as justice, to somebody who has had to stain his hands with blood on multiple occasions, has had to conform to the world around him just like he did on York Island, instead remaining above it all. He finally admits that he can’t act like the war and world around him has nothing to do with him. And once he confronts/defeats Sloth, the embodiment of his worst sin, he becomes calmer and more mature, finally taking responsibility for things he didn’t even want to face before(also noted by Izumi who says he’s grown up when he claims he’s content since Shou Tucker will have to live with what he did).

He’s willing to give up his goal so he can rectify the damage that human transmutation and the desire for philosopher’s stone has created. On the other hand, he goes from somebody who would typically cry over his losses (like with Nina), to somebody who bottled up his emotions and can’t cry anymore, which is honestly very sad, but once again something I can personally relate to on a major level. In the end, Edward admits that he’s really not perfect, that he’s not a saint, that he has his own flaws, but he’s doing the best he can as who he is, and I just really like that.

…

Lastly, Edward also acts as a parallel and/or foil to numerous other characters on the show (Scar’s Brother, Leo/Rio, Russel, Izumi, Nina, and even Envy, Barry and Shou Tucker, one of the most deplorable characters on the show.) These parallels/foils are something that makes the show especially engaging for me, so yeah, I won’t go on much more though because I feel like this is enough to get my point out.

As for least favorite male, I think it would be Bradley or Shou Tucker but only as a person. As a character, maybe Gluttony bc there wasn’t much explanation to his back story other than him being created by Dante for red water consumption? Idk. I don’t really have a “least Favorite” per se

#fma 2003 #fma #fullmetal alchemist #edward elric #fullmetal alchemist 2003 #fma 03 #fma03month

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spitecremated · 6 years

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Tag muns you want to know better; repost - don’t reblog.

What inspired you to try / create this muse/s: Originally, creating Dabi’s blog was mostly a ‘whim’ - I had gotten really into The Theory(tm), and wanted to be able to explore the implications of that. His potential dynamics with other characters was really interesting to me, and I’d been looking into which villains I thought I could ‘do justice’ anyways.

Other than just really liking the concept / character? I had seen quite a few different portrayals, mostly within fanfics rather than in the RPC, that I didn’t.. agree with?? A lot of it was really one-dimensional; that was my main irritation with it, I think. So, long story short, I wanted to flesh out my own version of things. (And I’ve had a fucking blast doing so, honestly.)

From there, Kerri encouraged the idea, and well, the rest is history.

What is inspiration for your muse/s: Other than the source material, and various theory posts that I’ve stumbled across? It’s mostly a matter of taking what I already know from those, what I know about psychology, how I’ve written villainous people previously, and a lot of creative liberties.

I use music for inspiration, a lot, with all of my muses; that said, I have a Spotify playlist for nearly all of them. Reading other peoples’ portrayals (typically from quality fics or a friend’s writing, not my duplicates, to be clear there) has always been helpful, too. Outside of that stuff..? I’m really not sure; most of my inspiration just comes from thinking about my muses way too much, listening to music that reminds me of them, and babbling to people about it all.

Thread / AU that makes you really happy: Yeah so, I could babble about quite a few things for this, but I’m gonna stick with the first two that came to mind. First of all? Kerri and I’s ship with Dabi and Asuka ( @sensoryquirk ). I fucking live for Hero x Villain type dynamics, honestly, and I could talk about how much I adore that ship for hours.

But! That’s tied baaasically equally with my interactions with Kam ( @icey-burn ). I fucking LOVE writing with Kam, and our interactions between Dabi & Shouto have been some of the funnest threads to write on this blog. Whether we’re yelling about how much they love each other, or ripping each other’s hearts out with angst replies, it’s always a damned blast.

Something really special on your wishlist: I don’t really have a wishlist, honestly. There are plenty of things that I would like to eventually have happen, sure, but nothing that actually stands out?? At least, not that I can think of. My only big thing was having a Shouto to interact with, and being I’ve got a couple of those now, that’s already accomplished lol.

Share something related to your muse!:

LOOK AT THIS COMIC, PEOPLE.

It’s one of my absolute favorite pieces of fanart I’ve seen for the theory. You wanna talk about art that’s inspired me? THAT.

What do you think about your character’s design / how did you come up with this: This is one of those designs that people either love or hate, and personally? I adore it. There’s something ‘gritty’ about the designs of the villains in BN/HA, that I haven’t seen most other places, and I really appreciate that.

What has your muse taught you: It’s kind of ironic, saying that Dabi of all characters has taught me / helped me with anything, but to be entirely honest? There’s a few things, and they’re all.. actually pretty important?

1) Your scars tell parts of your story, but they do not define you. Your story matters, but the scars themselves? Those don’t matter anymore than you let them matter. They don’t lessen you, they don’t define anything, and they don’t have to change how you view yourself. They only succeed in doing any of that, if you let them, and you don’t have to let them. The story matters; the scars don’t.

2) You are allowed to leave the past, in the past. No matter the circumstances, and no matter your decisions from that point onward, you are not obligated to live in the past - you shouldn’t, for that matter. Read it like an old paperback novel, learn what you can from it, enjoy the good parts where you can. But once you’ve done that, once you’ve learned what you can from it? Set that damned book on fire, if that’s what you need to do in order to move forward. You can’t change your past, but you can start right here, right now, and change the ending of your story. Burn the bridges that you need to; nobody needs to understand your reasons for that except for you. If the past kicks you down 100 times, you get back up 101 — shake the dust off, and focus on your present, on a brighter future.

3) Nobody can force you to continue being the person you were yesterday. You are not obligated to respond to a name that does not belong to you anymore. You are not obligated to be the person that those around you, used to know. You are allowed to change, at any time, and leave the ‘old you’ in the past. Nobody can force you to live in the past, and absolutely no one can force you to continue being the scared kid you were before — you’re not him anymore.

( I could likely continue, but I’m going to leave it at those - they’re the main things. )

What is roleplay for you: Roleplaying is quite a few things for me, but to sum it up? It’s a hobby, and a more ‘relaxed’ way to keep myself writing when I don’t have the time & energy to be working on more “professional” writing. That aside, it’s a way to cope - a place to put emotions that I’m not sure how to otherwise deal with, and vent those in a creative way. So on, and so forth.

Just say something nice about other muns!: I haven’t been in an ‘active’ fandom in quite a while, and I wasn’t certain about joining this one at first. But honestly? I have not been this excited to log on every day, in ages. Everyone here has been incredibly welcoming, and while I could babble about specific people, there isn’t a need to - because every single person I’ve spoken with, interacted with? Has been a fucking sweetheart. You’re all wonderful, and I’m so glad that I decided to be a part of this RPC. Thank you all for having me, really.

Tagged by: @steelhardpecs

Tagging: I’m really late answering this, and idk who all did it already, so... If you haven’t, consider yourself tagged?

#( 𝙂𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 ⁞ Tag Games )#( 𝙊𝙪𝙩 𝙊𝙛 𝙎𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙚 ⁞ OOC )#( Mun Things. )#// Under the cut for length reasons!

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paraclete0407 · 3 years

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I feel I have done little but to attack the Christians right and left who actually looked out for my body as well as spirit and kept me company when no one would and inspired me not to lust or get in political arguments or strain every muscle-fiber and sweat every drop to displace an immoveable object and for their trouble I am basically mad at them for what they have that I don’t - your wife, your muscles, your training, your past, your firm footing in life, where you’re going. I just lack passion and affection and neighbors / friends and more passion, try to be ‘technical’ about everything, preaching about good relationships and sacrificial generosity. I read ‘The Meaning of Marriage’ and realized that husband and wife could be one flesh - it clicked - but IDK why I tried to share this.

All these novel-ideas and I like to set up sentiments and situations but then too I feel as if Korea is practically my only reality - a if, like I said on my last night, ‘This is the first thing I gained’ - and now the present absence or distance is the ‘operative condition’ of my life or the ‘keynote.’ I also realize now that I fell in to the Millennial / Miles Klee (in past) habit of sophisticated coastal elites writing evocations of ‘wholesome’ Midwesterners or Southerners, with the implication being that they will sooner or later become - to take a short leap of intuition - media, or, education. I guess Kent Haruf is all about this where the characters are defined by adultery or trying to play the white knight or I had a thought of ‘Teacher Dream’ where all these utility clerks pushing in carts and I felt glad at first to remark to myself I am carrying multitudes of learning but then felt sad I wasn’t doing anything much but muse about what I used to be. I got in the habit of trying to open bout my personal story / narrative concerning Christian belief but now some people won’t even stay on the phone if I mention NK and play games about anything. Am I a drug pusher? I wasn’t even asking for money, just expanding on my interest as the other person had expanded.

I don’t thik it’s not even a big deal - Milwaukee could get nuked or attacked by neo-Nazi’s with bombs and assault weapons with all these mixed-race marriages and adoptions and I know for a fact Wisc’s got neo-Nazis all over. Nuclear war! Not a lot of manufacturing left in some areas or farmland, just old buildings and human souls. Everyone was starting to believe that C-19 was over but then Delta and I started to remember everything from ‘16 and how my spirit wants to drive as fast as possible around be prepared for welcome our angelic invaders / victors (literally); I felt as if the heavenly military have hair-triggers and just open fire if they see sth they don’t like.

I had tried to elevate my understanding of the Midwestern soul or the customary ‘course of life’ in terms of male self-consciousness or expectations-versus-outcome which in retrospect was not as comprehensively smart as I had liked to believe but only beautiful and pleasing to the intellect. My ideas about the Midwestern novel helped make me a friend but in retrospect I don’t know why I even tried to get in to the genre when my whole image of life is here just somehow being and/or being with Koreans.

I feel sometimes as if I don’t really know anyone and for a long time my main character has been some clone or graft of my brother. I’ve lost my standards. I just look at all the world going by. Maybe I ought to just pray and write poems for a while since I have a sense of what is going on or at least what I hope will soon be happening.

I keep reading books too and I bought up all the books I could then got rid of them.

I had been living in a case of ‘eventually’ for years and didn’t realize the Covid ‘revolution’ or Delta would suddenly appear and I would be regarding ‘last things.’

I keep wondering whether I ought to talk about Korea or Asians at all. It’s - they are - my one hit-you-up lapel-grab button-hole and tell tell tell. In this time of wanting to give away one’s best I am like pine-tree, ‘far away and over there,’ beautiful and intense. People back away from me.

I wonder whether everyone feels as confident as I do in their understanding of what’s going on right now in history - and whether it’s even useful or even acceptable to talk about it that way as it sounds like total Marxism. Anyway I was talking about Satan and Judgment and I mean it 100% literally and I saw it and recognized and heard the word for it, ‘Judgment.’ I wonder whether Tolstoy in War and Peace was 100% confident in having the character label Napoleon anti-Christ and who’s the instantiation or manifestation of anti-Christ today if that is ‘dispensationally appropriate / valid.’ I read Coronavirus and Christ numerous times and feel it cannot be quite the last days but then since when does David J. Johnston not believe that he likes believing? But sincerely and fully who’s out there saying anti-Christ stuff like oppressing religion? I feel I’m only against false religions but then I go around being not very loving to anyone and only excuse myself - ‘an excuse is twice is a lie’ - by dint of that no one ever opens to me here. [relationship is no]. Sleep on street in K-Town LA just if I’m in LA I want a projectile weapon.

...Who’s the one saying everyone can be together today and religion is bad? I almost feel it’s Anglo America with Christopher Hitchens (St. Theresa bad, alcohol good, nuke North Korean ‘dwarves,’ making special stipulations so that not only can he not live a believing life but ‘if I die and want God that’s not me’), Johnson acting like he understands everything; America(?). I remember when I read the Obergefell opinion there was the phrase ‘love that lasts beyond life’ or something. It made me think of stones in Egypt and stuff or the Middle East(?). I wonder am I a terrible person just for having certain pure ideas? People appear to look at me and go like, ‘Solzhenitsyn, Hobby Lobby,’ just attacking others’ values wile I’m really a misogynist casual rapist.

I’m just trying to supply some narrative for why I came to crystallized convictions after years of studying and writing. My friend said ‘pastors who study porn are disgusting’ which I agree with but then part of me is like there’s evil everywhere; someone’s gotta study war, pornography, weapons, fat people ~ but I see like no good; I see ‘image-aspirations’ and ‘identitkits.’ She wanted me to teach AmLit which I felt like it sends all kinds of confused messages that lead to disappointment and all of these Rutgers girls believed they were Jane Austen and that’s again why I say send your daughters to Bethlehem Seminary and just learn from OT NT faithful women b/c the rst are literal ‘Gossip Girl’ that I can tell or it’s just sad but I don’t wanna be Norman Mailer and attack the corporate cool girl - Generation Alpha’s rising and here I am coping, depressed they just wants sports-based instructional design. They appear to want nothing or IDK; pressure their parents. Am I just seeing the same narrative again about the MS cafeteria, the Lunchable someone has and I don’t and I am ‘special’ and feel ‘proud’ if not a ‘solemn pride’ that my mom gave me healthier foods but then believed I would get the big-ticket items we were saving up for - it’s ancient history but part of why I lost my mind and nearly my life in quest of a) personal glory or vindication that I’m not like others and b) ‘educational justice’ or ‘fairness’

I remember how when I first lived in South Korea I was reading St. Augustine partly because it is interesting and lovely and talks about the reading life and growing up, love-failure,’ parents’ weird maniacal greed and impatience to become grandparents, and incredible things about history and the heart and pedagogy and basically everything, which is why I feel as though ‘Confessions’ but also ‘City of God’ are covering the whole sky right now, people rediscovering the actual existence of sin, the violence of history (which some are lip-licking for), the ways in Time and in Eternity...

At that time I felt reading ‘Confessions’ and much else made me better than others or that ultimately I was not required to deal with some people or look at them that carefully nor wonder how they got to be the way they were as I could just stay with my books and have consolation and uplift. I wanted to write my own ‘Midwestern novel’ with the title ‘And I Will Give You Rest’ and the topic of coping, basically or abandoning desires and ambitions. My other novel ‘Commitment’ is going out the window I’m afraid since the desire or intention it reflects is rapidly coming up to me as reality. On Grace to You the description of ‘rest’ included ‘lack of apprehension.’ I also felt that since my parents and younger brother appeared to be night-terminally obstructing my aspirations through unlawful backhanded means I would include my ‘confinement’ I might as well ‘mix in Eastern and Western characters’ and talk about the present world-situation but it’s still fiction at a terrible moment in Time and I sincerely feel that America and England are defending values and ideas that aren’t even really good for anyone. Kindness and gentleness and rights and non-enslavement to the state and absence of a state religion such as in NK (from what I can tell), are excellent, but chauvinism, complacence, some aspects of procedural and parliamentary governance.

I also remembered how at 27 and then 34 I’d fall asleep when I saw someone really beautiful. One of these people made me feel lost without resources and the other gave me a notion of living love.

I feel as if my whole life is actually one story which circles around a dream I had in 2015 about birth but also involves this beauty of holding love; honestly I do not know why else I am still alive as I have contributed so little economically.

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brokedandy · 6 years

Text

Jonghyun

I don't know anyone personally or online that I can talk to/relate to while grieving Jonghyun's death so I'm just going to right some thoughts here instead...

I still can't stop crying everyday when I think about Jonghyun

When I eat a nice a meal I feel sad because he'll never be able to eat nice meals with his family and friends again

It makes me sad to think of him cold and underground in a coffin as he sleeps because I want him to be warm and comfortable

I can't stop crying as I write this

I think about how I wish I'd spent more time practicing Korean so as I could be fluent by now and would have been able to understand Jonghyun's live streams where he opened up about his depression

So many things I love about kpop are related to him and every so often I'll think of something I love and then realise it's connected to him and get sad because I wonder whether I'll ever be able to see it the same way again

Whenever someone mentions Jonghyun or death or asks me if I'm ok I get teary again and I don't know when this will end. And where I'm from if someone asks you if you're ok all they want you to say is yes.

I'm paranoid that the people around me will think that I'm just some stupid fangirl crying over someone I didn't even know but Jonghyun and Kpop in general mean so much to me because the only reason I became a fan at first was to relieve stress and to help with depression while doing my exams and having a busy schedule. I keep trying to just keep all my feelings to myself and I feel like I need an hour or so to just cry properly and loudly in order to get it all out but instead I keep supressing it as much as I can and try to cry quietly but I think it's doing more harm than good.

I think about how around this time last year SHINee released the Winter Wonderland MV and how happy it made me and I was excited for Christmas but this year I'm dreading it

I feel so devastated for the rest of SHINee and his family and Nine9 and Taeyeon and Suho and Jung Joon Young etc...

If I'm finding it this hard I really can't imagine how they feel and I'm worried that they'll find it hard to ever be happy again. Especially if you combine it with the daily shit they go through...

I think about how he died completely alone and I wonder what exactly he was thinking about at the time and it breaks my heart to think of him lonely and crying and cold and feeling as though he's not good enough

Jonghyun was more than good enough

I love Jonghyun's smile so much

So so much

His unique voice that Suho and SHINee would mimic but in reality be so impressed by

I wish I'd supported him more by buying all his albums. I always just put off buying kpop albums because I'm multifandom and they're so expensive here. But I could have done something for him.

Before this happened I've always thought that if I ever met any idols at fansignings I'd end up just asking them whether they're ok and tell them that I love them and I want them to eat what they want and get lot's of sleep and I want them to be in relationships because they deserve that and so much more. They don't deserve to be lonely. I don't think I'd be able to go to fansignings because I wouldn't want to pressure them into making me happy when all I want is for them to be happy since they make me happy on a daily basis anyway.

The only things providing comfort right now for me are: funny Jonghyun videos/moments, Jonghyun's singing, Breathe - Lee Hi because of the lyrics and how I feel like through Lee Hi he is comforting us, The Voice - Jung Seunghwan because I can cry to that song but it's also so soft and soothing...

I just can't process his death. I really can't. I think I can because every time I cry it's because he's gone and I understand he's gone. But then I see a video of him and I sort've feel like he could still be in Korea, completely fine. But it hurts even more because I'm still aware that's not true. So I just watch him smile and cry because I wish that he'd been happy like that all the time.

I watched his reaction to the crowd at his last concert again and he seems so sad because he knows it's the last concert...

Night Goblin cancelled the episode with him in but I really want to see him one more time. Please.

It's so final.

I don't want it to be final.

I want to hug him.

I'm an art student and I've always wanted to draw Jonghyun. When his last album came out I tried to draw him but I gave up because I didn't think I could do him justice and I thought I'd leave it until I'm more confident. But now that he's gone I did a new one and I spent more time on it and now it actually looks like him. But this wasn't how I wanted to draw him. I wish I'd done it while he was still alive because the whole feeling of the piece would have been different.

Similarly I feel bad about the SHINee videos I hadn't seen before his death that I put off saying that I'll watch them when I get time. But now I'll never enjoy them fully because of it .-.

Just thoughts like this constantly. I don't know how to cope with a loved one dying because this is my first time experiencing the death of someone this important to me...

There's more but it's pretty much endless

Sorry for this spam... Idk. I'm going to sleep now. It's 2:54am here

#jonghyun #rip #rip jonghyun #ultimate bias #bias #kpop #korean #me #shawol #shinee #shinee world #taemin #minho #onew #key #kpop idol #kpop idols #i love him #kim jonghyun #종현

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janiedean · 6 years

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While i hate antis and their bullying everytime they shaming a fictional ship because i believe that "Fiction is not reality", I also agree that fiction can be a good role model for the real world for example : Diana's characterisation in Wonder Woman to show us more variety of strong woman character or Theon's PTSD scene to how us what REAL PSTD scene looks like (and we're mad when people keep saying that Theon just being coward in that scene). How should we balance the two, in your opinion?

okay, so, first thing, I think we need to make a basic distinction and state that fiction influences reality and people might be influenced by fiction do not mean the same thing whatsoever.

then we have to make another distinction ie there’s such a thing as massively consumed fiction and less consumed fiction/fandom and both are also different.

then we also have to state that one thing is emulating characters, one thing is finding them interesting or recognizing yourself in them.

last thing that instead is valid for everything, one thing is good things being represented in fiction, the other is bad things being represented in fiction.

let’s go from easier to hardest.

easier: massively consumed vs fandom. now, what people on tumblr fail to realize is that most of the planet doesn’t not give a fuck about fandom or engages with it. I mean, if you’re into it you would, but I know a bunch of people who are nerds/into fandom who don’t ship nor are into fanfic. fanfic/fanart/whatever influences people maybe on a fandom-level, but if you assume that people at large might start thinking incest is fine because thor/loki exists (which is a purely fanon thing) or because jaime/cersei exists (actual mainstream stuff but not as large as idk SW), you’re frankly deluding yourself because only thor/loki shippers give two fucks about thor/loki and not counting a few people I can think of, no one thinks jaime/cersei makes incest okay nor abusive relationships okay. thor/loki isn’t even represented in fiction, it’s fanfic, jaime/cersei is represented in fiction, but no one would think either thing makes banging your brother okay whether it’s dysfunctional (t/l) or just downright abusive (j/c). in that case assuming that if you’re into t/l or j/c you want to bang your brother is the bad case which assumes that whichever fiction in existence influences reality directly.

that said, no one is actually wanting to make a social justice point while having jc being a thing or t/l being dysfunctional. it’s dynamics that are interesting to explore.

wonder woman giving more variety to a strong female character instead is extremely mass-consumption media which would show a lot of people that different type (because a lot more people watch DC movies than GOT) then you show them differently and they might start thinking differently about strong female characters. or idk black kids seeing the new star wars and liking that there’s a black lead (same for the mcu and falcon/black panther) is also an extremely mass-consumption thing, because of course most people watch star wars and know what the hell star wars is. in that case you have fiction making a positive impact on reality (or maybe reflecting reality) but it’s also, like, reasonable. because sw-the-movies have impact and normalize that the leads in the story can also be not always white blonde men with blue eyes, but the star wars fandom - and I’m just talking about the part that produces fanfic/fanart and not about the people cosplaying stormtroopers and so on - influences shit. no one is going to make people think force-choking someone is going to be okay because k*ylux fic exists, same as no one thinks that killing a bunch of children is okay because anakin did it in the prequels and no one is ever gonna think you’re a psychopath because you stan k*ylo ren same as no one who watches star wars (IN GENERAL) sees kylo and thinks WOW HAVING SUCH A BAD VILLAIN WILL BE A BAD INFLUENCE TO CHILDREN, because a generation or two grew up thinking vader was cool but no one ever thought what vader did was right. I mean, people who don’t have issues distinguishing the two facts (and usually the people who do are radical SOMETHING, conservatives or antis or whatever) are entirely aware that reality lets itself being influenced by fiction to a certain degree when it’s about positive things, not for negative things at large.

now obviously you have exceptions like fifty shades of gray which is a bad fanfic that has turned mainstream (relatively) and so now there’s a bunch of people convinced that it’s real BDSM TM, but that’s because in society people don’t get educated about how abusive relationships work or toxic relationships work so they don’t recognize it in shitty fanfic turned mainstream, but that’s where you focus your efforts and educate people, you don’t say that since fifty shades is shit then you can’t write books or make movies about bdsm period, which is what the idiots seem to want.

now, moving on to point one: as stated above, *fiction* as a thing doesn’t influence reality or every kid who’s ever read HP would have committed suicide trying to fly off the window on a broom, which is a thing that we know doesn’t exist irl and cannot exist irl. and mainstream fiction can influence reality as much as we let it for positive things, because honest, who’s ever turned violent because of videogames? no one, but since we all have violent instincts buried somewhere maybe killing people in a videogame lets you blow off some steam and whatever because you know it’s fake. of course there’s the matter of age appropriate content, but if a parent lets a seven year old watch GOT or play GTA and then that kid is traumatized it’s their parents’ fault, not the fault of the media which was clearly labeled for adults. or I mean, I read/watched media that was above my age when I was ten but I was ready for it and my parents knew it, if I wasn’t they wouldn’t have let me.

also, on the ptsd angle: in the punisher there’s plenty of examples of realistic ptsd post-war, but I haven’t seen anyone yet say anything sensed on what was to me the most realistic and well done character in that sense (lewis wilson) because people kept on saying he was *white terrorist* and that the show didn’t excuse his action with *mental illness* without knowing that having ptsd post-combat is like, being mentally ill. that show was excellent rep in that sense, but have people in fandom caught up on it or understood it? meh. people outside it yes, and maybe some people on here, too, but not as many as I’d like. same goes for theon - WITHIN FANDOM because the ptsd thing was fairly understood OUTSIDE IT. which means that the real world is getting more sensitive to that narrative, tumblr isn’t. in that case, the real world is letting himself be influenced or touched by that narrative, tumblr isn’t. what do we know.

so, tldr for this part: fiction only influences X as far as you let it and people in general do know that if wrong thing is depicted in fiction it’s wrong. I mean, I never heard of anyone becoming a pedophile after watching or reading mysterious skin, which is a really fucking good movie which doesn’t romanticize the subject at all.

now, about the last part ie personal identification/emulation: now, never mind that emulating a character is usually done by the time you’re ten and before then you pretend to be batman while playing with your friends but you know you’re not batman, and past five you do know that if superman can fly, you a regular human being can’t. the point is that fictional people are written by real people, so if they’re realistic and the writers write them well, they’ll be relatable, and if they’re relatable they might influence you as a person or make you find shit out about yourself that might change you, and in that sense it does influence reality somehow, or if you use it to cope with trauma then it surely helps you, but who you relate to isn’t what others might. we can say that we have basic level, representation level, using-it-to-cope level.

now I’m gonna go use myself as a template since I’ve for good and for bad have used fiction to cope with shit for my entire life, so. under the cut because this is long and the next part is all personal shit so people should have the right to scroll past it xD

basic level: when I was fifteen I was having a shit time, I read the dark tower, I ran into my Favorite Character Ever, the guy used shitty humor to deal with crap all the time, it was a tendency I already had and I went like ‘okay if it worked for him why didn’t it work for me’ and today I’m someone who deals with about anything by using shitty humor or joking about it and it’s helped me tremendously honestly, if I took everything too seriously I’d be a terrible person. also, that helped me with self-confidence to a point and blah blah blah it made my life tangentially better. but that was just, like, about me. and I didn’t certainly try to emulate the guy’s worst flaws, because that wasn’t the point. anyway, I found the guy relatable but I didn’t see him as, like, representation or anything.

representation level/slightly coping level: I read asoiaf when I was twenty-two. I am sad I didn’t before because when I ran into brienne I was slammed with a brick in the face that was saying OH HEY THAT’S SOMEONE WHO’S ACTUALLY LIKE YOU/HAD YOUR EXPERIENCES. I don’t just relate to brienne, I identify with brienne to a fairly bad degree, and I’m really sad I didn’t run into her before because I might have gathered a great deal of self-confidence from seeing that there was a main character somewhere who was ugly/seen as ugly by anyone else and still was an a+++ person who could do worthwhile things and was a viable love interest for Hot Guy. (idk if it shows when I write jb fic but it’s there, so.) did brienne change my life? not as much as she could have if I had read acok when it was released, but she did give me some hope that with GOT becoming mainstream not-conventionally-pretty women would get some mainstream rep, because sure af there wasn’t much when I grew up. if that happens? fiction did influence reality, but in the wonder woman/good kind. again, no one (me or anyone else) would want to be like brienne by GRABBING A SWORD AND KILLING PEOPLE, we’d rather probably just get confidence/inspired by what she does. because she’s a well-written character that entirely gets it.

except that a lot of asoiaf fans think that she’s boring or useless or see nothing in her. which is fine - it’s not their target I guess, but again, a character who’s extremely important to me means nothing to other people and certainly doesn’t influence them.

coping/potentially badwrong coping level: so, as a person I’m really not into badwrong/dysfunctional dynamics that don’t make people better. as such, I tend to ship healthy couples/dynamics where the two people make each other better.

which is why I never was remotely interested in thor/loki as a thing in my entire life until two months ago - WAIT - and for all my time in the mcu I always felt a visceral dislike for loki I never really dwelt upon while at the same time whenever I saw thor bashing (ie he’s an idiot or he’s a bully or he doesn’t understand loki and the likes) I always felt a visceral distaste in my mouth like NO DON’T IT’S NOT LIKE THAT, but since it wasn’t even my favorite mcu franchise and thor isn’t my favorite mcu character I never, like, thought about it. I just went with the obvious ‘everyone likes loki because ANTAGONISTS which I don’t get and I get angry on thor’s behalf because he doesn’t deserve that shit’. all good until I watch ragnarok which is, like, COMPLETE CRACK ON A STICK AND NOT A SERIOUS MOVIE AT ALL and which probably did not mean to be a psychological textbook and at the end I’m like ‘fuck okay maybe I ship it a bit and now that loki’s done with the angst maybe I can tolerate him’, and then not long later or so I get hit with another ton of bricks in the face and realize that of course I always had that feeling, that was because thor and loki had the exact same dysfunctional dynamic I had with my former best friend of fourteen years that I haven’t talked to for at least seven years and which is like the root of 70% of the issues I have. all of them. and like, loki was like her except Much More Extra and on a larger scale, thor was me except Much More Extra and the more I think about it the more it just fits 100% and you don’t even wanna know how I’ve spent this last month, because I had no idea I spent six years with those feelings about that dynamic because of that, I had no idea I actually found thor that relatable on a visceral level and I still have Unresolved Issues with that person and I can’t solve them with them personally for reasons. if I actually end up writing them fanfic where I, uh, subtly address personal issues and it works, then that badwrong-ish fic has influenced me for the best (and says all that I realized it just when they reconciled, I didn’t let myself do it before). but like, that wouldn’t mean that I wanted to bang my ex-friend or that I suddenly approve of incest - because sure af I didn’t want to bang her and sure af I didn’t turn into PLEASE DO BANG YOUR SIBLINGS WHENEVER YOU WANT (ew no). that’s the damned difference. thor and loki banging in whatever fanfic won’t make anyone excuse incest and won’t influence anyone outside thor fandom on ao3 - hell, at most it’s going to influence me because if I do it I’m doing it to work through my issues. it doesn’t change reality at large.

like, fiction can be a model for something you want to see more of or you can find characters role models or relatable and it can present you a view of the world, but at the end of the day we all know that it’s not real and we only use it to filter reality and/or ourselves through it and it helps us doing it, which is why something that makes sense to me - ie that thor is extremely relatable - won’t make sense to someone who finds loki relatable for reasons I couldn’t even begin to imagine. maybe the same piece of fiction/media both influences us, but it influences us very differently because we see it through different lens. and the thing is that if you conflate the two things and start emulating characters past the age of four then you have a problem distinguishing the two things and you need to get over it/get help/whatever, because to everyone else it’s normal to see the world through fiction or part of it. if you do because I know people who think fiction is merely fiction and don’t understand the point of relating to a character in the first place.

so like tldr, fiction influences you as much as you let it and it’s something you use actively and that is there for everyone to interpret, but it can’t, just existing, influence anything especially because if no one reads it or watches it then it’s useless. and since most **problematic** stuff is consumed by people who actively look for it and know what they’re doing - again, no one reads tentacle porn on ao3 if they don’t like tentacle porn - you can’t say that by existing, incest fic or badwrong fic normalizes abuse, because it only does if you let it and if you don’t know what abuse is and you can’t recognize it for what it is. like, a piece of fiction doesn’t need to spell THIS IS WRONG for you to know that I dunno t/hramsay fanfic is not what you should want in a relationship, you have to know that, and that’s on you, not on something that’s not mass-consumption - because badwrong fic and stuff is usually written by badwrong fans for badwrong fans, not by hired disney writers for star wars movies that have to be good for children, adults, nerds and the mass audience at large.

you balance the two by knowing that badwrong stuff is wrong irl (and it’s not a stretch) and by looking at the world through the lenses of whatever not badwrong fiction you enjoy/like/relate to, which can also be badwrong of course (see the thor/loki rant above) but like the fact that it does it to us singularly doesn’t mean that all of a sudden THE ENTIRE WORLD IS INFLUENCED BY THE EXISTENCE OF FAKE THINGS.

nor that WE SHOULD PUT THAT MUCH IMPORTANCE on fake things, because one thing is all of the above, another is saying that a piece of media is trash because it doesn’t have the representation you want in it or thinking that since something exists in fiction then you won a social justice battle. again: fiction is a tool, it’s not the ending nor the beginning of anything. having more black people in media won’t be what stops black people go to jail in the US at a higher rate than white people for the same crimes, but it might help making people relate to someone who’s different and so normalize some stuff... if you watch/consume that media and choose to engage with it. (ie, brooklyn 99′s boss is a gay black man in a stable relationship with a white professor and it’s not what you usually see on tv and it will work for casual watchers, but I doubt someone who usually watches fox news then also watches b99 - you can’t win your wars through fiction, to convince the fox news watcher to not vote trump you have to talk to him and not show him a sitcom. and mind that this can be reversed ie all the anti-russian/islamic propaganda in the US which tends to normalize russians/muslims as The Bad Guy - it works along with other things, not just on its own) the key is in knowing that fiction is made by people and consumed by people and eventually begins and ends with the people who make it and consume it in whichever way, and not in thinking that it’s above us and is something divine that changes the world just by existing.

#long post for ts #long post #janie rants #the discourse TM #social justice calvinism #sorry I ranted #personal #i guess #randomlut #ask post

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captusmomentum · 7 years

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8, 11, 13, 33, and 39 for Inan, Alhanin, Tace, and Fewena, E and H for you plz and thank you :D

UNSURPRISINGLY THIS IS V LONG SO IT’S UNDER A CUT

8. What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a childAlhanin:

to stop goofing off and do her chores, she was fairly good about doing things since she was Mom’s Little Helper when they weren’t with the clan and had that Be Good and Do Things mentality really early so she could help mom out but she’s always been really bad about stopping her chores to goof around with children.

Féwena:

to stop arguing or fighting or picking on someone. she was a tiny terror.

Inanallas:

to stop wandering off. to start their homework, do chores, try playing with the other kids more. the sort of things you’d tell a daydreamy child to do/not do.

Tace:like, everything. stop back talking, stop trying to skip class, stop lying, stop reading above your approved level like– just think of what someone could tell a kid to stop doing in the circle/a circle like environment and he got it.11. How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?Alhanin:

asks questions like a functional grown ass adult until she’s sure she gets it. Especially when it’s really important. if it’s not too big of a deal might just let it slide tho.

Féwena:

basically interrogates, them/whoever’s available and is like Weirdly Annoyed she’s confused. But she’s always kinda >:| so but yeah also tends to get progressively more snappish and heated as she asks questions for literally no reason. she’s just too salty to act normal.

Inanallas:

depends on who’s involved, if it’s someone they know p well they’ll just ask them for clarification. but if it’s a stranger or someone they consider intimidating or something like that they’ll either look around fervently for someone like Thenvas, who they know and will see the confused terror in their eyes and know what to do, or feigns understanding long enough to scamper over to one of their friends and plead for help.

Tace:

gets really mad and petty for no fucking reason and bitches while asking questions then cuts them off from explaining to bitch more. or just doesn’t fucking care and ignores that the interaction even happened bc like, he wasn’t gonna do jack shit with that anyway.

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?Alhanin: greens, especially olive-y ones. it certainly doesn’t look like shit but idk if it’s the best since she and few’s coloring is basically “different shades of red/red-orange”

Féwena: deep reds, darker colors, olive green, basically Edge Lord Colors generally. Overall yup on point tho idk how good the red and green are since her coloring is so red, more red is possibly just too much and green runs a risk of gross.

Inanallas: light blues. it does actually look very good on them and helps soften how pale they are while highlighting their eyes. also makes them seem more approachable and less spooky which the tattoos tend to do.

Tace: Every Color Bitch. he’s…. well he’s arrogant but he’s technically not wrong. his best colors tho are pastels and saturated colors, they really pop on him.

33. Could they be considered lazy?

Alhanin:

only in her wildest fucking dreams, she likes to pretend at being the lazy lovable rogue but nope she’s a lil worker bee.

Féwena:

kinda, she certainly doesn’t lift a finger if she doesn’t see why she should.

Inanallas:

they can seem lazy, but it’s all the mental anguish keep them from getting things done. It was big problem in their inq au to manage their image, thenvas was doing all the inquisitorial work in skyhold (so basically running the whole dang thing) in their stead while inan still did all the field and in person work. it was month before they could even bare to leave their room after they got made inquisitor. it can take them ages to get anything done and to others it can look like their total slackers and completely irresponsible but the reality is they’re grappling with themselves over what to do.

Tace:

lol YUPPPPPPP. tace is HILARIOUSLY LAZY. he HATES working or doing ANYTHING and loves lounging around. to be fair, a good part of that tho is just like complete and total burn out in effect. but he also genuinely fucking hates like, all the kinda academia-esque shit the circles did and would just Not fucking do it bc Fuck You and go take a nap instead. even when he was in his poorly thought out affair with anders in his da canon verse and helping at the clinic he was forever moaning and groaning and whining.

39. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?

Alhanin:

Honestly fairly easy. it’s a bit difficult to explain exactly but for Al, giving people a chance and not holding them to their flaws, thinking the best of them (within reason) is natural and also an important part of her whole philosophy. compulsive lying is bad, but the reason someone does it could be to protect themselves from something worse, so it’s important not to immediately judge or write people off because of flaws or actions and to reserve judgement until you know more and to always be willing to give people another chance. but at the same time, alhanin is always involved in the justice system somehow and is forever looking for people’s flaws and any/all potential red flags that they’re genuinely Bad or will just do it all again. So she’s both willing to forgive a lot but also ready to pin people at the drop of a hat.

Féwena:

depends on the flaws, if it’s one she finds unforgivable and/or annoying then NOPE and she will beat you up for it, mentally/emotionally or physically. otherwise she’s pm lets things slide until someone else says their not okay w/ something or w/e. she’s aware she’s really not in a position to throw stones most of the time since she’s a belligerent, kinda xenophobic/bigoted/anti-human aggressive asshole (tho it doesn’t stop her from ridin’ that high horse around town whoops).

Inanallas:

kinda, it’s harder for them when they’re younger and things always feel more dire or visceral and they hyper focus on and distort the negatives but it gets better as they get older and they understand more about life and other people. post-trespasser or the au appropriate exp/age equivalent is very good at being kind and forgiving flaws, even when they’ve personally been hurt because of them. standard inan, which is aprox dai inan (usually pre-skyhold or near to the end bc of the Dark Zone) is very mixed and sporadic about it and hypocritical, clearly still trying to come to terms with how some flaws are okay, some are not, and how extremely situational that can be.

Tace:

TACE DOES NOT FORGIVE SHIT. TACE DOES NOT FORGET SHIT.

He fucking remembers every last fucking flaw a person’s got and will hold them against them until he fucking dies you can try and pull this from his cold dead hands and even then it won’t budge. even once he’s basically married to keshet and living in domestic bless he still is hilariously petty and loses his mind about all of keshet’s flaws (and tbh keshet exaggerates some, like the shitty jokes, just to rile him up), it’s kinder when it’s with people he likes/cares for, like Keshet and CONSIDERABLY less frequent and nicer when it’s someone he cares about and is Highly Sensitive like Thenvunin bc he’s not trying to make them feel bad. but he’s still judging, silently, in his Heart, and then out loud at home over wine while keshet very Obviously ignores him.

QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?Alhanin: ye ye, al is super chill and encouraging so that’d be cool. we’d get on just fine.

Féwena: there’s a chance we could but it’d be rocky there for a while, few is Rough to deal with sometimes and has a very brusk personality.

Inanallas: we’d get on really well and also overshare and cry a lot it’d be a sad lil tiny losers weeping club. inan would probably ask me to draw them shit all the time.

Tace: i have noooooo fucking idea. it’s hard to tell who tace will tolerate until he meets them. i’d probably wanna be friends w/ him but be too scared to talk to him bc he’s so INTENSE and he’d be like w/e, too busy losing his mind over shit elsewhere.H) What trait do you admire most?

Alhanin:

how committed she is, how deeply she takes being Fair and Just to heart, how genuinely altruistic she is and how dauntless she is.

Féwena:

her fire, passion and tenacity and her total fearlessness to stand up to anyone over anything. and her ability to actually control that somewhat so she doesn’t go completely out of control.

Inanallas:

their bravery to push through and find a way to do things they need to even while scared shitless and the seriousness they treat things with when they finally accept responsibility or even if they haven’t accepted it yet. when they got made inquisitor they knew they were the worst choice objectively for a myriad of practical reasons and when thenvas arrived immediately began basically therapy w/ him and gave him pm all her responsibility bc he WAS the best choice and he knew her well enough to be able to help get them functioning again so they could do right by this shit.

Tace:

how totally unrepentant he is for his existence and how he refuses to let people try to convince him he’s the bad guy or that he deserves the abuse he gets and how he constantly stands up for himself against literally everything and everyone while doing his best not to fall into the trap of becoming as bad as them to survive it.

#theladypirate #answered #filled meme #tace #alhanin #fewena #inanallas #al hcs #few hcs #tace hcs #inan hcs #this was very fun but also very difficult #bc even tho i put in a solid shift at sleepytime junction I'M STILL SO TIRED MY EYES ARE LIKE FUCKING IMPLODING #THEY'RE OPEN AND TECHNICALLY FUNCTIONALLY BUT I AM FIGHTING TO SEE AND COMPREHEND #lfgjfds;gjs kill meeeeeee #i kees tho in thanks for the nice asks this was fun and interesting

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http-rory-blog · 7 years

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helo there palios, it’s super nice to meet ya’ll/be a member of this group. you all seem so damn sweet? like? already in love over here?? anywho, the name is rachel, twenty years old and a member of the gmt+1 timezone. this little shitbag right here is loml rowan rory, who i’m excited to further develop with ya’ll. you know the drill, below the cut will be a series of bullet point information about rory herself, followed by whats probably me rambling about possible plots with a lot of ‘???’ here, there and everywhere.

i saw VICTORIA JUSTICE today walking around the fair. Wait, no that was ROWAN 'RORY ANDERSON, the TWENTY-ONE year old CISFEMALE. i’ve heard SHE is currently a BAKER in Clairemont and people say they’re AUDACIOUS & QUICK-WITTED. Watch out though because i’m sure that i’ve also heard people say that they’re SHORT-TEMPERED & CONCEALED.

TW: MENTIONS OF VERBAL ABUSE.

rory, as she prefers to be referred as, was born and raised in clairemont. to this day, she’s still to ever even leave the small town. having never ventured beyond it’s welcoming signs even for a vacation.

once upon a time, rory did have a smooth-going home-life, her mother and father were over the moon with the blessing of a beautiful baby girl. though it wasn’t to last long, with rory being a colic baby, it drove her father absolutely mad. he couldn’t stand the constant crying, and therefore tried to refrain from being in their home as often as he could, leaving his wife to do all the hard work.

cutting to the chase, he began to drink to cope with the situation. which eventually, resulted in him getting fired from his job when he turned up to work entirely out of it. which unsurprisingly, only furthered his depressive state and need to sooth the pain with alcoholic substances.

around this time, he was never cruel or abusive toward rory or her mother, he did love them. however, he was unable to see through his depressive state he was quickly falling into and became nothing more than a deadbeat; a shell of a person he used to be.

it took years before rory’s mother had had enough, packing her bags one day and walking out the door. it seemed she packed everything, wiped the house clean of anything that was once hers, that was, everything but rory.

for days, the little girl waited day in, day out for her mother’s return; but it never came. when this reality did hit her, it hit her hard. rory was physically unable to understand why her mother left her behind, what she had done so wrong to deserve it.

since her mother left, rory and her father barely got along; with him refusing to do anything but watch television and sit on his ass all day, it left them struggling to make amends meet at times. as soon as she came of age, rory had to take responsibility, picking up a part-time job while in highschool to support them both

the further he progressed to practically never being sober, the more her father would often make comments toward the daughter he once loved and adored so much. it wasn’t that he was trying to intentionally hurt her; he thought he was being funny, amusing, spewing words at her about how she’d probably end up just like him, how neither of them had a future, they were nothing more than the scum beneath everyone else’s shoes, she is just as worthless as he is.

though, after years of saving extra pennies that weren’t spent on food or household bills, etc, rory finally saved enough that she could escape her childhood home, somewhere that once held comfort that had become a nightmare to return to daily.

also, she works in a bakery because somehow the sour lil bitch she is can manage to create some damn good treats tbh.

basically, rory can be pretty bitter, a bit of a pessimist at the best of times (although she tries to play it off as her being a realist), mommy issues??, tbh daddy issues too??, quite the lower class citizen, considering she any pennies she got growing up were spared on bills and food w/her father not working, doesn’t bother to try achieve or make anything of herself either as her mom and everyone else believe she’s going to wound up just like her dad so she’s like?? lmao probs so why bother try make something of myself. is very iffy about getting too close or attached to anyone; fearing they may leave, is generally a very daring person? like, if you told her to jump of a bridge she probably would like ??? idk man. also don’t tell her she can’t do something because she will prove you wrong even if it kiLlS hEr. 10/10 would fight you if you bug her enough, tbh even if you’re like 6′3 and 180 pounds she’d still try take you?? is she okay?? not rly but anWYay. that’s my smol feel free to hit up those dms if you wanna plot bECAUSE I’M A PLOTTING SLUT GIVE ME EVERYTHING. ALL THE DRAMA. I WANT IT ALL.

i’m gonna throw out a couple of possible connections while they’re floating around my brain, but tbh i work better brainstorming 99.9% of the time so slide into my dms and lets get out plot on.

lowkey i’m always down for the big brother/little sister type of plot, that’s lowkey my aesthetic tbh oops.

it would be pretty cool to maybe even have her mom’s kid(s) around? like, i feel like her mom has 100% moved on and gotten married and is living her picture perfect little life, meanwhile rory is just being bitter af.

i can only really see her having one or two friends she’s like.. deathly close to? like they would probably know bits and pieces about the stuff that has gone on with her dad, especially if they grew up in clairemont like herself. but these would be her ride n die kinda friends ygm??

on that note, give me just those like.. party friends? like people she drinks with or gets high with etc etc.

frequent customers, she works in a bakery so..?? idk?? just a lil idea.

someone she used to be incredibly close with when they were young, but after all the shit went down with her dad and mom she pushed them away, to this day she still gives them the cold shoulder and the other has no idea why. at this point, neither does rory.

hookups/fwbs, she’s not really a relationship person bc trust/commitment issues 101, but she probably fucks around a lot.

lowkey give me a plot like ‘we said no strings attached but now we’re in knots’.

there’s probably a handful of people she doesn’t get along with, she’s really easy to piss off and generally would just get irritated quickly by someone and decide then and there she doesn’t like them.

hatefuck??? i mean, speaks for itself, they argue and bicker a hella lot.. but then always end up fuckin’.

loWKEy, this could go along w/the hatefuck or fwb plot but like.. gimmie a plot were neither of the muses like sleeping alone or at least like, they prefer sleeping together? so they’ll fuck n whatever or even make excuses to do so just so they get to wound up literally sleeping w/one another; like all snuggly and it’s just.. at least rory wouldn’t want to admit she enjoys it so she’d cover it up w/being like ey come over n bang??

this is a mess

okay so, i think that’s all i got for right now, but ima hit ya’ll up and whatnot because i 100% wanna plot with evERyoNE.

#cl: intro #( *･˙˖ — ooc ! )#thIS IS SO LONG I'M SORRY JFC

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supernaturally-writing · 7 years

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The Love of an Angel

A/N: Lol what even is this title?? Idk man. But anyway. So this is that spontaneous fic I made a PSA about earlier. As I was writing it, I realized I wasn’t really doing my sad idea justice, because it just didn’t seem sad enough to me, but that might be because I was writing it idk. I hope it’s sufficiently angsty. Be warned: it kinda jumps around a little bit. There are sections of the story missing, or not given in a lot of detail. Italics are past memories.

P.S: It is 3:18 AM and I am very very sleepy so pardon my shitty writing and grammar inconsistencies/mistakes.

Word Count: 4856

Warnings: ANGST. So much angst. Brief mentions of smut; not very detailed. Character death. Depression, depressed Cas, Human!Cas. A little bit of fluff towards the end, but not much??? Cas-centric fic.

Summery: Their love has been years in the making, but [y/n]’s abrupt demise spells out a rough going for Castiel. Being newly human doesn’t help the situation as the (ex)angel strikes out on his own and suffers in his own self-imposed isolation as he tries to live with these mortal emotions, determined to avenge the only woman he’s ever loved.

Masterlist

When Castiel rushed to the bottom of the Bunker stairs to welcome the Winchester gang back from their extensive hunt (as he’d always done), he’d never expected to find one of their party mysteriously missing. He also hadn’t expected Dean’s eyes to be red-rimmed, or for Sam’s arm to be in a makeshift sling, or for both Winchesters to be covered in blood and mud and ripped clothes. Sam had only made it halfway down the creaking staircase before he collapsed in on himself, sinking to the metal steps as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Dean sank down with him, tears swimming in his own eyes, and gingerly pulled his baby brother into his arms. By then, Cas knew. He knew that [y/n] was dead. Some part of him had known since the moment the brothers had stepped foot in the Bunker-- but now the knowledge settled in his gut like a boulder.

He’d only been human for a month and a half-- it hadn’t been nearly enough time for [y/n] to teach him how to cope with all of his new emotions. Especially heartbreak.

When he finally sucked in a breath, the pain hit him full-force, like a bunch to the belly and a kick to the sternum all in one. His throat burned as it constricted, cutting his airway until he was gaping like a fish, his legs trembling under the monumental weight of his own leaden frame. He only made it to the nearest chair just in time for his knees to give out; he didn’t even sit on the cushion properly. Just nestled his face into the cushion of the arm as his hipbone throbbed with the awkward positioning of his crumpled stature.

His eyes burned, the cool tracks of his tears doing nothing to soothe the pain of his heated skin. He was sure he was going to throw up; the sensation was foreign, but this new instinct told him to wrench himself out of the chair just in time to throw up on the floor. [Y/n] was dead. His [y/n] was dead and the Winchesters hadn’t been able to bring her back. . . And if they couldn’t bring her back, then she was really, truly gone. The brothers had mastered the art of giving Death a raincheck.

Cas wiped his mouth and pushed himself onto wobbling feet, balancing himself against the nearest object-- which happened to be Dean. Cas pulled away from the hunter, shame coloring his cheeks, before he looked into his face a saw a reflection of his own sorrow there. Before he knew what he was doing, Castiel crashed into Dean and buried his head in his shoulder, great sobs wracking him, replacing the previously silent tears.

When the three of them finally composed themselves enough to mop up Castiel’s mess and officially address the scattering of wounds on the brothers, each of them sat in thick silence in the library. Sam stared into nothing, unblinking; sometimes, Cas would see the muscle in his jaw feather to the surface, but other than that minute movement, Sam had gone deathly still. Dean scratched at the mahogany surface of the table, his eyes rolling behind his eyelids as he relived whatever had happened. . .

Cas’ heart wrenched for the millionth time that afternoon as he suddenly realized that he didn’t know how she died. He didn’t know anything about her last moments-- and he hadn’t been there to see it, to save her. It was ten quick heartbeats before he could breath again and peal his hands off the armrests of the chair, where he’d squeezed the blood out of his fingers and broken his shorts nails down to the bloody beds.

“How did she--” Castiel began, his voice rough and gravely, the sound screeching in his own ears and scratching his own throat.

“Demon. Simple salt ‘n burn turned into a chase when a local black eyes caught wind of us in town. We uh-- we weren’t. . . We didn’t see it comin’.” There was a long pause as Dean finally tipped his head back and opened his eyes-- admitting the flood of fresh tears. He scrubbed his hand down his face, sniffing loudly. “Damn thing brought a whole party. She fought. . . She fought so damn hard, Cas. Even after-- even after she went down. . .” He couldn’t finish the thought; Cas didn’t press him for details. He didn’t want to imagine it. Didn’t want to picture his human covered in her own gore-- didn’t want to picture the life leaving her eyes.

He closed his own to fight off the image. It didn’t work.

“Did you kill it?” The words raked at Castiel’s raw throat, no more than a whisper in the air, hard to hear even in the stifling, pressing silence of their melancholy. He was afraid that if he spoke too loudly, he would break. Really, truly shatter; the only thing holding him together was the grip he resumed on the cold, unforgiving wood of the armrests below. Silence ensued, and rage suddenly filled him, bubbling up from his toes and swirling in his guts like lava, until he sprang to his feet so abruptly the chair clashed against the concrete floor. “Did you kill it?” He was yelling now, his arms trembling as he slammed his palms down onto the table. Dean just stared at him, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Something had died in his eyes, but right then, Cas could only think about all the things dying within himself.

“No,” Sam finally whispered. “No, it smoked out before we could get to it.”

That rage rippled into Cas’ arms, fueling him with a violent energy; he swung blindly, fist colliding with the nearest lamp. Sam flinched with surprise with it shattered against the opposite wall.

Before his brain caught up to his legs, Castiel was stomping down the corridors of the bunker, his footsteps harsh booms of sound all the way into his room.

Cas sat on the edge of the motel bed, fingering the hole in his jeans. He rolled the information Dean had given him around in his mind, his teeth dragging along his tongue as he chewed on the muscle. Hunger gnawed at him but he ignored the growling of his belly for favor of flicking through the television news feeds.

He hadn’t been able to stay in the Bunker. He hadn’t been able to pass [y/n]’s room every time he walked down the hall. Hadn’t been able to look at her little idiosyncrasies that she’s left scattered about-- little quirks that would go untouched for some time as the boys adjusted to a life without the woman they’d practically grown up with. Some things were small, nearly unnoticeable: an arrangement of cups in the cupboard, assorted by color and height, the towels hung neatly, folded three times each, the books scattered around her room in perfectly arranged chaos. He hadn’t been able to deal with the stutters of his heart every time he caught a whiff of the automatic air freshener she’d plugged into the wall outlet of her room. It smelled of vanilla and honey-- a gentle smell, not so overpowering that it burned the nose, just sweet enough to make him breath deep and slow and savor the scent of it floating through the halls.

So he left. He packed his things the following evening, hastily shoving the few belongings he’d accumulated into the borrowed duffle bag he’d taken from Dean: his angel blade, a few pairs of thin, ripped jeans, and the flannels he’d been given. The bag was depressingly light when he hefted it onto his shoulder.

Dean had asked him to be safe, had told him that he couldn’t stand to lose another friend-- not so soon after losing [y/n]. But Castiel could only look at him and clench his jaw. Whatever promises he made Dean would have been a lie, save for one thing: “I will find that demon, Dean. And I will kill it, even if it means the end of my own meager mortal life.” There was a long silence, and some small part of Cas had thought that Dean might try to make him stay. But he hadn’t. He’d only shaken his head and scrubbed his drawn face with shaking hands before he finally told Cas everything he knew-- which wasn’t much. The majority of this hunt would rely solely on Cas’ ingenuity and familiarity with the demonic ranks. It had been so long since he’d accessed certain memories, and trying to do so while a human had given him a migraine that lasted for the entirety of the drive from the Bunker to the grimy motel in southern Tennessee.

That night had been the first night he dreamed of nothing; he was too exhausted to think, even while unconscious.

As the days wore on, Cas drew closer to finding answers, though through no small amount of effort. Most nights he only caught an hour or two of sleep, the rest of his waking moments spent bent over a table, or maps, or flicking through the news or scrolling through the internet. He tracked demonic movement; hunted them, killed them, even has his strength and stamina dwindled. Over the weeks, he’d hardly eaten; he’d fallen back into the angelic routine of never needing to eat, even though his mortality demanded sustenance. It was a rare occurrence when he finally pulled himself away from his work to order takeout.

When he looked in the mirror, Cas couldn’t see the man-- or angel-- he had been. His cheeks were hollowed, and there was a constant shadow over his eyes, bruises lining the puffy skin beneath the dull blue orbs. His hair was shaggy, curling around his ears and at his temples; he’d accumulated a number of new scars. Some of them were purely accidental-- others. . . Well, sometimes he’d flirted with Death just a little too blatantly, and those lingering considerations had nearly cost him his life and his mission on a few close-call hunts. Most nights he was glad Jimmy had been evicted; he was sure the original owner of this vessel would have been outraged to find Castiel abusing it so thoroughly. . . Other nights he wished he could still talk to the man. Perhaps Jimmy would know what to do, how to help. And even if he didn’t, having him around would have at least been some sort of company to break the monotony of hunting solo.

As the months wore on, Cas found himself thinking more and more about [y/n]. The first few weeks, he hadn’t known how to handle the crushing weight of her death, so he’d blocked her from his mind. Even in his dreams, he’d continued to have the regular nightmares that originally drove him into [y/n]’s sleepy arms: fighting through Hell with a struggling Dean Winchester trapped securely against his chest; fighting past the influence of Michael and Lucifer as he broke into the Cage to drag out a soulless Sam Winchester; fighting for the control of his own body as Leviathans ripped the power out of his hands. There were so many things that haunted him still; perhaps his brain had not yet processed his lover’s death to the capacity that his heart had.

Now, though, he allowed memories to trickle into the forefront of his consciousness: the first time he’d met a spunky young huntress that had punched Lucifer in the face and lived to tell about it; helping the Winchesters break her out of a county jail for car theft; sitting across the booth from her as she nursed a cup of coffee and a horrid hangover. Sometimes he would wake up with the whispers of her voice ringing in his ears, even as the dreams of her evaded his sleepy memory. Other times he would lay awake late into the night, even after a long day of fighting and tracking, and struggle to remember the details of her face, or how her skin felt under his hands, or the smell of her shampoo when he snuggled up behind her after she’d taken a shower. Those were the nights that the tears rolled quietly and wetted the pillow on either sides of his head; those were the nights that he wouldn’t dream, and he would awaken feeling twice as tired as he had the day previous.

Dean called often, but Cas rarely answered. It was only when Dean’s calls became persistent that he finally picked up the phone; Dean would always curse him for scaring him like that, then tentatively ask how he was doing. He tried to answer the hunter truthfully, but it was usually easier just to give him a short, gruff answer and hang up the phone. He would immediately return to his work, slowly but surely digging up the secrets of the Underworld as he looked for a cockroach among the colony.

Castiel had never expected to feel the power of his grace returning to his veins. Well, not his grace, per se, but grace nevertheless. When he’d been captured by vengeful fallen angels, he’d fully expected to be killed-- hell, he’d practically submitted, ready to embrace Death with open arms. But the lingering thought of his mission had spurred him on, and before he’d comprehended the result of his actions, he’d killed an angel and stolen their grace. The power was startling; it coursed through him, searing hot as it healed him and restored him to his former immortal vitality. It had taken him another day to adjust to being an angel again-- he stopped eating, resisting the habit of consumption. But he also stopped feeling. At least in the capacity that humans felt. He still felt that pain, that emptiness. He wasn’t sure if there was anything in the universe short of a miracle straight from his Father himself that would totally erase the ache that resounded within him. But at least it wasn’t crushing. . .

Being an angel again allowed him to truly marvel at the resilience of humanity for the first time. It was human instinct to trudge on, to make the best of the worst situation, to always keep fighting no matter the odds. Where the angel in him would have given up on this farfetched quest, his human heart had whispered to him with every heavy thump: revenge, revenge, revenge.

With this newfound-- and dwindling-- strength, Castiel made it a point to work all the harder towards his goal. Within a fortnight, the angel had tracked down one of the demons that had assisted in the killing of his human. The following night, Castiel knelt above the lifeless corpse of that black-eyed bitch with the answers he had sought after for so long.

[Y/n] sat up as her bedroom door creaked open. Castiel stood in the doorway, looking disheveled and out of place as the hall light outlined him in a halo of dim golden illumination. He’d been human for a week or so now, and every night she’d been able to hear him struggling in his sleep from the room over. He’d cried, groaned, whimpered and thrashed his way through the night. Oftentimes, it kept her awake, too; she’d finally pulled him aside and told him to join her the next time a nightmare roused him from his sleep. He’d given her a sheepish smile and tipped his head to the floor, color lining the arches of his cheekbones. She’d laughed off his embarrassment with a peck to the scruffy surface of his cheek.

Now, though, her heart thundered behind her sternum as he quietly padded further into the room. The door swung most of the way closed, though it didn’t latch, leaving a sliver of golden light slanting across the wall. It was just enough light to see by, and soon enough Castiel was crawling into bed with her, though he’d insisted he lay atop the coverlets as to keep her comfortable. After a hushed argument and a soft huff, Cas finally submitted to her persistence and slid under the comforter. His bare legs brushed hers, and he quickly apologize before she shushed him and pulled him close.

He’d fallen asleep with his head resting above her heart, her fingers combing through the short dark tresses atop his cranium. With her by his side, he’d rested peacefully for the first time in his mortal life; after that night, their sleeping habits had become routine.

Until. . . Until she’d stumbled into the bunker, battered and bruised but smiling her shit-eating grin nevertheless, boasting of a good hunt and searching for a good drink. That night, when she eased her aching body into bed, Cas had been the one to pull her close, and when she turned her head to give him their nightly peck on the cheek, his lips had slanted against her own. It was hard and demanding, and his lips trembled against her’s. He cupped her tender face with his hands, his thumbs brushing her jawline, tracing over the black and blue bruise that feathered out there. When he finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead against hers; they breathed each other in, sharing the air between them one gulp at a time.

“My [y/n]. . . My [y/n]. . .” He repeated her name over and over, a gentle, whispered supplication. She relaxed into his hold, her hands wandering down his sides as she tried to soothe the anxiety out of him. “I am alien to this world of human emotion, but--” he’d taken her hand in his and placed it over his racing heart, shivering with her touch-- “if this is love, then I am plunging further and further into this sea of affection; drowning in it, really.” He released a breathy laugh at that, and [y/n] twisted her hand until their fingers were clasped, locked together as Castiel clung to her. “Please, please. . . Don’t scare me like that anymore. I don’t think I could live if. . . If--”

“I’m here,” she murmured, cutting him off with a gentle kiss. With her free hand, she cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb over his cheekbone; she’d blown out a breath of surprise to discover the wet trail of tears there. “I’m here, Cas. I’m okay. I’ll always be okay; I’ve got an angel by my side.” He’d started to protest at that, making it a point to inform her he wasn’t an angel anymore-- but she already knew that. Still, she kissed away his words, and that was the first night they made love.

It was long and slow; wandering hands and searching eyes and wet trails of saliva as they both marked each other with lover’s bruises and gentle kisses of adoration. Not once had [y/n] been able to tell him she loved him, too afraid that those three words would somehow shatter this perfect existence. Cas, on the other hand, had growled it against her throat, against her bare breasts, had chanted it as they reached their ends and fell into each other’s weight. They kissed each other to sleep; when Cas jerked awake later that night, [y/n] rolled over and rode him until they were exhausted again, her head falling against his chest as he buried his face in the silky tresses of her hair.

For the following weeks, they fell into bed and into each other’s arms. There’d hardly been a room in the Bunker that they hadn’t christened: the kitchen, the library, the shower room, the garage, the war room, a few of the dusty storerooms in the uninhabited wings of the bunker. Sometimes their couplings were slow and sweet-- usually after a hunt, when [y/n] would come home to a worried Castiel, even though she was usually right as rain. Other times they were fast and rough; demanding mouths and groping hands and pounding hips as lips laid claim(s) to miles of scarred skin.

It was the night before she was to leave with the Winchester brothers to accompany them on a simple salt and burn when she finally told Castiel she loved him. He’d just finished his journey kissing the scars from her ankles all the way up to her fingertips. When she finally blew out the breath that carried those three soft words, he’d paused and lifted his weight off of her, staring at her long and hard with parted lips and watering eyes. She’d said it again, with a little more volume this time, conviction making her heart swell. By the fourth time she’d said it, her fingers carding through his hair, he’d cut her off with a clash of his lips. The kiss was so hard and so abrupt that their teeth clacked together, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about the dull tooth ache that ensued. They sank into each other, worshiping each other with their tongues and fingers, until they began to fall into the easy trance of sleep. [Y/n] laid behind him, her arms twined around his waist, and she pressed a final goodnight kiss to the nape of his neck.

Before she settled into her last blissful sleep, she’d whispered one last “I love you, Castiel” against his skin.

Cas stood on the outskirts of the playground, his hands stuffed into the deep pockets of his trench. It had been a few months since he’d killed the demon-- Cerebur-- that had been responsible for [y/n]’s death. The eight month anniversary of his leaving the Bunker was rapidly approaching, yet he ignored the calls of Sam and Dean Winchester. It was hard to hear the pain in their voices, to know that they still mourned as he did, though it was to be expected. Humans mourned their whole lives, oftentimes; there were some wounds that even Time could not heal. This wound. . . This wound had been one of the deepest any of them had sustained. [Y/n] had spent her younger years growing up with the Winchesters when John would pair off with her mother for extensive hunts. The situation had left the Winchesters and the girl ofttimes fending for each other and themselves in the same motel room for days on end. In some ways, the Winchesters had bonded with [y/n] more closely than they had even bonded with each other. For a short time, she’d had a shot at a normal life, quite like Sam had; a boyfriend swept her off her feet, carrying her off to some lofty apartment in the northern sectors of Seattle. Dean visited as often as possible, and Sam made his yearly trips north during spring break to spend his vacation with her and her soon-to-be husband.

Castiel idly wondered what he would find in her Heaven. The thought that she might be happy in her Heaven with that man nearly deterred him from visiting her.

She would want to see you, Cas. Dean’s words rang through his mind; he took a deep breath of the cool, damp air. He eyed the guardian angel apprehensively, knowing full well what he had to do. Where the thought of murdering one of his brothers or sisters would have been offensive and even horrifying some years beforehand, he now smothered the instinctive resistance to the motions of his hand as he swung his angel blade into the small of the angel’s back. Light flickered and grace crackled, smothering out as if a heavy hand had pressed down on the power, snuffing it out like a candle flame. He hid the body quickly; when he returned, the playground was desolate, silence hanging in the winter air.

He toed the sandbox quietly, palms sweating against the metal of his blade.

With a sudden conviction, Castiel jumped through the portal and disappeared into the lofty halls of Heaven.

It didn’t take long to find [y/n]’s door. He stood before it for a long time, listening to the steady thumps of his heart. He’d dreamt of this moment for so long; now that he stood on the threshold of action, pain flickered behind his sternum again. It wasn’t nearly as intense as it had been when he was human, but he still felt it. This place was a constant reminder that [y/n] was dead.

He gripped the handle of her door with shaking fingers before he gave it a twist and swung it open.

After the initial light of his entrance had faded, he blinked away the glare of a bright summer sun. The heat of it kissed his skin. That pain in his chest roared to life again as he realized where he was. In Sioux Falls, just down the road from Bobby’s house, was a pond fed by a lazy, gurgling stream. A grove of Poplars surrounded the water, tall grasses of the richest green swaying around every bank. Lilypads floated along the surface of the water, hugging the banks, creating a shadowed refuge for the fish hatchlings that darted below the surface of the water like tiny flashes of silver.

This had been the place [y/n] came to as a child, when she stayed with Bobby and the Winchester boys. It had also been the spot she’d brought him too during the early years of his time on Earth. She sat with him for hours, talking of humanity, plucking at the summer grasses as the birds sang above and the bugs chirped from below.

It had been there that Castiel had fallen in love with humanity; it had been there that Castiel had fallen in love with [y/n]. That love had been dulled by his angelic detachment, but he’d been able to express his affections in the form of undying loyalty. As the years went on, he became more accustomed to the concept of feelings; as the years went on, [y/n] and Castiel frequented this grove as often as possible.

But no visit had ever stood out to him as starkly as this. He had never been so in awe of his Father’s creations as he had been there, surrounded by a lazy summer evening, with [y/n]’s shoulder pressed against his own.

Now, sitting at the edge of the pond where they had sat that day, sat [y/n]. She had her back to him, but he knew it was her. He knew it in the way his heart soared and sank all at once, in the way that her hair glinted in the sun with the different shades of color in her tresses, in the way she rocked to an unheard tune amongst the chorus of nature. He crept towards her quietly, apprehension suddenly hammering at his heart, and he had to stop himself. It had been months since he’d felt the hot prick of tears, but there it was, a stinging behind his eyes. He scrubbed at his face and gulped down a breath of the summer breeze before he came to [y/n]’s side.

Sitting on the cross section of [y/n]’s folded legs was a toddler, no more than four, with the hair of Castiel’s vessel and with the stunning eyes of [y/n]. When she turned that gaze onto the angel, he nearly crumpled. A wide, toothy grin split her sun-kissed skin; oh, she had her mother’s smile.

“Daddy!” The toddler reached for him, and Castiel sucked in a shuddering breath, sinking onto his haunches. He pressed the heels of his hands into the sockets of his eyes, the heat behind his blue orbs swelling until the tears spilled over and tracked down his face. He’d never considered the possibility that [y/n] might. . . That he might. . . But, there she was-- the baby that was very obviously his daughter. He saw Jimmy in the girl, almost more so than he saw [y/n]. “Daddy, Daddy!”

Small arms wrapped around his neck and he was abruptly pulled down a little lower; soft giggles filled his ears, and he slowly unwound his arms from about himself to sweep up the girl that had pulled him down into a hug. He kept his eyes closed, unable to look at [y/n], feeling her quiet stare as she watched with a soft smile. It wasn’t until he felt her lips ghost across his own that he finally opened his eyes. [Y/n] knelt before him, looking beautiful and so deceptively alive. . . He freed one hand and reached forward, brushing his thumb across her cheek to ensure she wasn’t another dream.

Her head tipped to the side, her cheek pressing into the callused surface of his palm. Her eyes fluttered closed, her smaller hands coming to rest against the back of his as it cradled her skull. She finally sighed, long and low, and a grin stretched across the gentle curve of her mouth. She met his eyes for the first time in eight long months; love and adoration twinkled there, spurring on the cascade of tears down Castiel’s rugged face.

“You’ve kept us waiting long enough, my love,” she finally hummed.

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