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#on the long list of things i’ll never emotionally recover from
atarashimono-blog · 10 months
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Dear Mia
Dear Mia
I don’t know if you’re ever going to read this. No-one else will – I have no followers, no-one else knows I have a tumblr, and this is my first (and perhaps only) post. So, this is essentially just a private message, unless I’m wrong about how tumblr works.
I fear you won’t accept that long, detailed apology I wrote for you on the 9th. In other words, I think I’ve already ruined everything. As a result of my mistakes, you’ll probably continue to live a very difficult life without ever experiencing, or even fully understanding, the alternative. It’s statistically unlikely that you’ll find another route out of poverty. Things aren’t looking good for me either. I can’t go an hour on the internet without seeing or hearing something that reminds me of you and breaks me into tears. I can’t properly concentrate on anything any more, and even day-to-day tasks like feeding Storm now take far longer than they should. The month of constant stress and grief may have also resulted in heart problems, but I’m not certain about that yet. Even if I’m physically okay, emotionally I’m not recovering. I’ve destroyed both of our futures, all because I was a shitty lover and didn’t realise until it was too late.
Before that asshole chose to publicly humiliate you, he told me his opinion of the situation. I refuse to believe what he said. Mia, you don’t have evil intentions. You aren’t a sociopath or a psychopath. You don’t want me to die. The last two years weren’t an elaborate illusion. We aren’t enemies. You’re the same Mia I know, the same Mia I loved, the same Mia I still love. You truly believed, and perhaps even still believe, that you’re making the right choice, that you’re doing the right thing. I just hope you don’t keep believing that until it’s too late.
I’ve read and re-read every word we ever spoke to one another in our private conversations. I’ve listed every mistake I ever made in our relationship, written down everything I should’ve done instead, and written down everything I’ll do differently in the unlikely event that you give me another chance. But I worry that it’s all too little, too late. I would sacrifice anything to go back a month and prevent you from giving up on me, or to go back even further and avoid making so many mistakes in the first place.
Over the years there have been a lot, and I mean a lot, of girls I’ve had feelings for. But I’ve never felt towards any of them the way I feel towards you. You’re the reason I believe that soulmates are a real thing, and not some overly poetic nonsense. I don’t know how soulmates work, just as I don’t know how many strange phenomena work, but I truly believe that you’re the one. And now I’ve lost you.
Yesterday, I received confirmation that my plan for how you could move here next year, and we could easily start a life together, would’ve worked perfectly fine. It still can, but only if you want it. I can’t decide your opinion. How this ends is, and always has been, up to you.
Mia, no matter what you decide, never forget that I love you.
Chris
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impostoradult · 3 years
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I finally figured out why it feels like Supernatural murdered a unicorn (AKA why you need to STOP telling me to watch Black Sails)
I’ll start by saying, everything everyone else has been saying CERTAINLY bothers me: 
- the queer-baiting - the bury your queers - the undermining of Dean’s character arc  - the wasted opportunity for a certain kind of overall narrative closure - the flat out disrespect to Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles
 All of that bothers me tremendously. 
But there has been something else rather ineffable about this that has left a horrible taste in my mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down until last night. Bear with me, if you will, because this will require some set-up. 
*** This is not the first show to ever disappoint me in a spectacular fashion, nor will it be the last, I suspect. And one of the ways I’ve always coped with that disappointment was to remind myself that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right. (”It” being any number of things from just pure narrative emotional coherence to not burying your queers to not stringing along your queer audience and then yelling fuck you to them on the way out) 
But somehow that assurance -- that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right -- has rung particularly hollow in this instance, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until yesterday. 
I kept asking myself, why do I still have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach, like something was lost here that can never be recovered? 
Because something was lost here that I am doubtful can ever be recovered, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else talking about this aspect of it at all. 
***
A few months ago, TV critic Maureen Ryan did a great interview piece with Mike Schur (of Parks & Rec/The Good Place) discussing the death of long-form TV in the streaming era. They explore how the longer seasons and longer runs of traditional broadcast/cable TV provided an opportunity to tell particular kinds of stories that you simply can’t when seasons are 8-10 episodes and series typically run 2-4 seasons (thanks Netflix).
One key thing we’ve all lost in this new era of highly condensed TV storytelling (and of prestige TV narrative styles)? The traditional (several season’s long) slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance. Not only is there simply no longer the time or space to write such romances, it has also come to be seen as hacky, manipulative, cheap, artistically impoverished, low-brow, a embarrassing vestige of the era before TV became art™. 
Everybody is trying to be Fleabag now. No one wants to be Frasier. (”It’s really more like a 10 hour movie” they all like to brag)
Obviously TV still has romances, even ‘drawn out’ romances. But ‘drawn out’ in 2020 is like 2-3 seasons, maybe. More commonly it’s like half a season. Take Schitt’s Creek. The number of episodes between when David and Patrick first meet and when they first kiss? Seven. Seven episodes. Half a season. If you watched it live, it took less than 2 months for them to move from introducing that dynamic to consummating it. And I’m not bagging on Schitt’s Creek; I think the David/Patrick’s story is very lovely and well-written. 
But Niles & Daphne (Fraiser) had to wait 7 years and over 150 episodes before they finally got there. Josh & Donna (The West Wing) had to wait 6+ years, and 145 episodes. Mulder & Scully (The X-Files) had to wait 7 seasons and 143 episodes. Booth & Bones had to wait...you see where I am going with this. 
And my point is (and I can’t believe I never realized this explicitly until now): there has NEVER been a queer slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance of that type on TV ever. EVER. 
I’m going to say that again, because I think it bares repeating:
There has never been a queer, slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance that fits the 100-150 episode paradigm of delayed gratification on TV. 
Not ever.  
I can’t think of ONE example  Not a single, solitary one. And I know queer TV pretty well. Arguably the closest we’ve ever come is Legend of Korra, and that ran 50 episodes, a THIRD of the length of old school will-they-won’t-theys like Booth & Bones or Josh & Donna. 
Queer people have had a fair number of canonical romances on TV by now, even fairly long running ones. But we never got a primary/front-and-center romance that you had to root for for 100+ episodes before you got any kind of canonical consummation.
That is a particular kind of TV experience that queer people and queer characters were just 100% shut out of until it was too late. And because of how the TV landscape has changed in the last 10 years, I don’t know that that opportunity will ever come back around in our lifetimes. 
***
Dean and Castiel are/were a legacy of an earlier era of TV, an era that still contained the possibility for a will-they-won’t-they of that particular mold. There were other shows that could have also filled this gap at one time - Rizzoli & Isles, OUAT, House MD, etc. But one by one all of them were killed off, their queer romances unrequited, until Supernatural was the only one of its’ generation left standing. 
And they should have acknowledged that they were a species about to become extinct. 
There are plenty of other valid and compelling reasons Supernatural should have gone full Destiel, don’t get me wrong.
A) It would have been the most emotionally satisfying ending to the series and to those characters (and that would have been reason enough). 
B) It would have stopped the manipulative queer-baiting of the (disproportionately queer) fanbase (and that would have been reason enough). 
C) It would have been queer representation of middle-aged men, of bi men, of queers who came to their queerness later in life (and any/all of those would have been reason enough). 
D) It could have been a glorious subversion of the bury your queers trope, considering how often they’ve died and been resurrected (and that would have been reason enough). 
But point E) on this list is the reason this one hurts in a singular way that no one even appears to be acknowledging. 
Almost all of the other wrongs and missed opportunities contained in this Supernatural debacle have the possibility of being rectified (at least to a degree) elsewhere. I can and I likely will get more bi male characters from TV as time goes on. I can and likely will get more middle-aged queer characters. I can and likely will get more queer characters coming to their queerness later in life, and starting queer romances later in life. I can and likely will get more queer characters who aren’t killed cheaply and prematurely. I can and likely will get more genre TV shows with sprawling myth arc plots that are resolved in a coherent, satisfying way. I can and likely will get Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles involved in other projects that value their work and their talents. 
All of those other things are at the very least POSSIBLE, and many are even likely. 
But a queer 100-150 episode slow-burn romance a la Mulder & Scully or Niles & Daphne or Booth & Bones? That is the one baton Supernatural dropped spectacularly that no one else even has the possibility of picking up again for the foreseeable future. (They don’t even write those types of romances for heterosexuals anymore!) 
Seriously. It was a TV unicorn. And rather than letting it run wild and free, they stabbed it with a rusty nail. 
***
Given the monumental shifts in the TV landscape that have occurred in the last decade, I don’t know that TV will ever go back to the slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance spanning 100-150 episodes. Today it is a miracle if you can get ANY show to last longer than 50 episodes in the first place. 
And that is the piece of this that makes it feel (to me) like they murdered a unicorn.  
Because queer people have gotten a lot of things from TV, and they will get a lot more as time goes on. But that one? That one could very well be a totally extinct species.
That is the larger missed opportunity here that has left this feeling especially hollow and destructive. That is the thing that makes me balk when people tell me to go watch Black Sails or Pose or whatever other prestige TV show is doing this representation ‘better.’ Because that’s not really the loss I am mourning here. I KNOW there is ‘better’ representation elsewhere.  
But the will-they-won’t-they/slow-burn romance is a qualitatively unique thing that queer people literally just never got. Ever. There is no substitute, no alternate, no other show I can turn to with that kind of build-up and pay-off for a queer couple, and there probably won’t be in my lifetime. Not unless the TV industry undergoes another monumental evolution similar to the streaming revolution that shifts the incentives back to telling those types of stories again. 
All those shows you want me to displace Supernatural with? None of them can give me the one thing I uniquely wanted (and could have gotten) from Supernatural. THAT ALTERNATE SHOW DOESN’T EXIST. It doesn’t exist. And I have no reason to hope it will ever exist in my lifetime. 
So stop telling me to look somewhere else; you don’t understand what made this one a unicorn. 
***
Addendum: The only other possible show that could perhaps fill this gap is It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (re: Mac/Dennis). But I’m hesitant to say it exactly meets that criteria, for a number of reasons:
1 - It’s far less serialized relative to Supernatural and (except for a handful of stand-alone episodes) very little of the story is grounded specifically in Dennis/Mac’s romantic dynamic (unlike SPN, where it is absolutely central to much of the narrative)
2 - IASIP is fundamentally satirically in nature/tone which makes it much harder to have genuine romantic pathos (not impossible, but harder) 
3 - All the characters on IASIP are fundamentally crummy people who you aren’t exactly supposed to root for. Which doesn’t mean a romance between two of them can’t have its value/charm/worth but it’s not the same as when it is between characters who unequivocally deserve nice things/happy endings
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kuroosweakness · 3 years
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can you do a headcanon in which the boys you mentioned in "toxic things haikyuu boys do" end up realizing that they hurt their s / o badly and apologize for fear of breaking up with them?
haikyuu boys apologizing for the toxic things they did 
a/n: :’) yes...the point of those hcs was so our feelings can be hurt. and i was hurt. so time to recover. i thought of these on the spot, i hope they’re not too bad! 
original toxic things they might do hcs 
atsumu: when you broke down in front him after he told your embarrassing story to his friends, his brain finally started to register how hurt you must’ve been. does he care that he hurted you? yes, a lot. he loves you a lot more than he would admit. but those stories have already been told, he can’t take them back. but he can’t just ignore his ignorant actions, he has to own up to them and apologize before he loses you. in which he does, face-to-face and bought you a small bouquet of flowers. from now on, he constantly goes around bragging about every good aspect of your life 
akaashi: it wasn’t until you used one of his insecurities in an argument where he realized how much it hurts when someone you trusted uses information against you. to realize that he was doing it that to you this whole time, did you feel as hurt as he just did? the horror he felt when he realized how much he has been hurting you this whole time. will you even accept his apology and forgive him? he didn’t even feel like he can possibly forgive himself. as an apology, he’ll write you a letter and give it to you face-to-face and won’t leave until you finish reading it. inside the letter, he lists every single one of your insecurities, telling you how beautiful, strong, unique, and loved you are 
oikawa: once he saw you hug a guy friend of yours and for some reason, it just didn’t sit right with him. he felt...betrayed? jealous? was this how you felt whenever he spent more time with his fans than you? how did you put up with him this whole time? he knew he needed to apologize for everything he’s done before you leave him for someone better. his way of apologizing will be to surprise with a fancy date and spend the whole day with you. all of his attention is on you. he doesn’t talk about anyone during the date or even check his phone. his eyes will be on you the whole time, admiring the view. this attentive behavior won’t last for just a day....it’ll last for as long as you love him and he loves you 
suna: he’s seen the panic on your face everytime he threatened to take something away. and at first, he didn’t really care. until he realized he was the whole reason why you’re not smiling anymore. he’s the reason your face doesn’t light up anymore every time you receive a gift. he knows an object would never make up for what he did to you, but as an apology, he’ll give you a handmade bracelet with your initials together. he’ll write a message aside that says, “i’ll never take this away from you, it’s yours. just like the way my heart is yours” along with a long, long apology paragraph 
kita: he never understood how you were lacking in so many categories...until he met more and more people he saw as “imperfect”. there are so many categories he lacked in. it wasn’t fair for him to be so hard on you. his view of “perfect” slowly began to change. he’ll start to become more accepting of you. when you make little mistakes, he’ll reassure you instead of scolding you. the first time you heard “it’s okay” and “take your time” come out of his mouth, it was a surprise. a nice surprise for a change. kita will slowly gain the courage to apologize to you, knowing how emotionally abusive he was toward you. there’s no way he can make it up to you, but he can only hope you’ll forgive him and continue to love him the way he loves you 
tsukishima: jokes are just jokes, right? apparently not. and he learned it the hard way; when you stopped laughing at them it broke him inside. there weren’t even hints of a smile on your face anymore. why is y/n not laughing? i think they’re funny. does y/n not have feelings for me anymore? and that’s when the panic started to sink in, you mean a lot more to him then those jokes. one day, you’ll both be sitting down to eat and apologetic words will just fumble out of tsukki’s mouth. it’s been haunting him, he can’t hold in his guilt anymore. will you forgive him? that’s up to you 
iwaizumi: after multiple arguments about how overprotective he is, he finally realized that you are a grown human being too. you don’t need him, you want him. he was so caught up in making sure he wasn’t going to lose you, to the point where he didn’t realize he was the main reason you were drifting away. slowly, he starts to give you more time to yourself...and begins to encourage you hanging out with friends. as for his apology, he’ll start his sentence with, “y/n, i know i’ve been wrong...” and acknowledge his controlling behavior. he knows that if he doesn’t change, you’ll end up even more hurt than before. he can’t possibly let someone he loves get hurt...
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arvinsescape · 3 years
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Time to Heal.
A/N: A bit of a different sort of writing for me that deals with emotional abuse, whilst i have never dealt with this personally, i know a couple of people who have and if anyone struggles with this or has my inbox is always open.
Summary: Reader finds herself in an emotionally abusive relationship and Tom shows her what real love looks like.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of emotional abuse, one mention of blood and i think that’s everything.
W/C: 2.4K.
You’d always thought that this moment should be one of the happiest in your life but here you were stood in a room full of a people with a man on one knee for you and it all felt wrong. You weren’t happy like you thought you would have been. You wished he hadn’t done this in front of all these people. You wished it wasn’t him asking. The man on one knee in front of you was possibly one of the worst men you’d ever been in a relationship with. He didn’t love you and you knew that but he made you feel like that was the best you were going to get, what you deserved.
It never starts out that way, at first Aaron was lovely, he swept you off your feet when you weren’t expecting it. He took you on lovely dates, he made you laugh and then he started making comments, as soon as he learnt your insecurities he used them against you, he never tried to push them away, no, he made sure they were at the forefront of your mind.
It started at first as being something he would say in an argument, your clingy, you want too much, you’re too emotional. Then he’d apologise, told you he didn’t mean it, his anger got the better of him and every time you’d accept with another piece of confidence, until there was none left. Then his comments became regular until you truly believed what he said.
‘You should just leave him.’ One of your friends had said when you’d worked up the courage to confide in her but you couldn’t. It’s not as simple as that. By the time you’d worked up the courage to tell her Aaron had your insecurities exactly where he wanted them. You weren’t worthy of love or being truly happy. He isolated you from your friends, especially your male friends and that made you feel more alone.
He hated your best friends Tom and Harrison and you didn’t see either of them anymore unless it was at a mutual friends birthday. You’d wanted to confide in them but Aaron had been adamant to make sure you deleted their numbers and that shattered the last piece of confidence you had. It wasn’t like they hadn’t noticed, they texted you until Aaron got so angry he’d taken your phone and smashed it. He apologised and bought you a new one and promised it’d never happen again.
He hated Tom more than anyone else, of course you’d told him in the early stages of the relationship how you knew Tom and Harrison. You and Tom had been in a relationship, you’d grown close to Haz as a result but ultimately Tom’s career was taking off and you’d both made the decision to call it quits before any heartbreak and messiness arrived so you could salvage the friendship. Then three days ago Tom came to see you.
“Tom?” You said as you answered the door. You’d not seen him for a while now so you were surprised to see him at your door.
“I tried calling.” He’d said with a sad smile.
“Sorry, my phone’s switched off.” You tried to laugh it off.
“For the last two months?” He asked. He wasn’t angry, you could see it in his eyes, he was concerned.
“I got a new one, did I not text you?” You tried again.
“Can I come in?” You swallowed thickly as you moved to the side to let him in. Thank god Aaron was out for the day. “Harrison tried calling too.” He said as he watched you boil the kettle, your back to him.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Lucy called me. Said she’s not heard from you either.” You almost dropped the teaspoon you were holding. You’d not seen Lucy since you told her about Aaron. You didn’t say anything so he continued.
“She told me some things Y/N. About what he says to you.” He grasped your hand turning you to look at him but you couldn’t meet his eyes.
“He just gets angry sometimes.” You used Aaron’s words.
“He shouldn’t say things like that to you, it’s not right.” You still couldn’t meet his gaze. His hand was still holding yours as he drew soft circles into the back of it with his thumb. You missed his touch.
“He usually apologises.” You tried to defend him.
“Doesn’t make it right love. You deserve so much better than him.” He used his free hand to lift your chin so you were forced to look at him and the look of concern in his eyes was enough to bring tears to your own.
“I don’t though.” You whispered and you watched as something shifted behind his eyes, he looked heartbroken. Your tears fell for the first time in months, you’d became so numb to Aaron’s words that they didn’t make you cry anymore but the softness in Tom’s tone had tears streaming down your face.
He pulled you into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and let you cry into his shirt. He placed the occasional kiss to the top of your head as his hands rubbed up and down your back in comfort. You stayed like that for at least ten minutes before you composed yourself but you stayed in his arms. It felt as safe as it always had.
“You deserve to be loved properly darling.” He said into your hair.
“But he’s right I’m too clingy, I’m too emotional and I expect to much from people.” You sniffled.
“You’re not clingy, you give all your love to the people you care about. You’re not too emotional, you wear your heart on your sleeve and that’s never a bad thing. You don’t expect too much from people because you should always seek to have people love you the way you love them.” He pulled you to look at him as he said it and the look in his eyes was so genuine you could tell he meant it.
“Who’s gonna want me now? I’m full of emotional baggage.” You whispered as you let a few more tears fall, voicing the fears as he caught your tears with his thumbs.
“You’re not full of baggage. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re funny and you love with everything you have in you, he doesn’t deserve you.” He gave you a small smile as he spoke. “I could go on for hours about all the amazing things about you.”
“Tom.” You sighed. “I don’t love him but I can’t leave him, I’m scared.” You admitted.
“Has he hit you?” Tom asked and it was so full of concern that a fresh wave of tears made their way down your face.
“No. He broke my phone once but no. I’m scared to leave him because I don’t want to end up alone.”
“You won’t. You’ll always have me and Harrison and Lucy, god the list goes on. We all still love you and we miss you.” He said as he wiped at your tears again. He was being so tender with you and you hadn’t felt that for a long time. You hadn’t felt loved. “You’ll always have me.” He said again.
“Tom- “Your voice broke and whatever you were going to say got caught in your throat.
“I’ll always look after you. I’ll make sure you always have everything you need. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”
“I still love you Tom.” You admitted as you cried into his chest again.
“I still love you.”
He’d tried to convince you to go home with him that day but something stopped you and you can’t explain what it was and now here you were at Lucy’s birthday party which Aaron had reluctantly let you attend and Aaron was down on one knee for you. You looked around the room as you caught those brown eyes that you loved so much and he was staring right back at the scene unfolding before him. Tears in his beautiful eyes.
“I’ll always look after you. I’ll make sure you always have everything you need. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”
“I still love you.”
You pulled your hand from Aaron’s as you felt a sort of confidence you’d not had for a long time as Aaron stood, following your gaze.
“I fucking knew it.” Aaron grumbled next to you and your eyes darted back to him. He was angrier than you’d ever seen him before and it frightened you. “Him?” He laughed but there was no humour in it.
“Aaron I’m-” You tried to get out.
“Him? Really? I knew it.” He seethed at you. Everyone was staring. Lucy carefully approached and you watched as Harrison and Tom started to make their way over. As soon as Tom moved it caught Aaron’s gaze and his face twisted into one of pure anger. “Fucking Tom Holland.” He suddenly shouted as he practically ran at him, catching Tom off guard.
As soon as he reached Tom he raised his fist and placed a punch straight to his nose. You almost screamed in shock as you watched Harrison and Tuwaine tackle Aaron to the floor. Tom had stumbled and was holding his nose. It was bleeding. You made your way straight over.
“Tom, oh my god, Tom, are you okay?” You asked as you took his face in your hands. He looked down at you for a second and smiled before nodding slightly and tilting his head back. “Is it broken?” You panicked.
“No.” Tom said as someone handed him a load of tissues. Aaron’s laughter pulled you from your concern over Tom. You twisted round to look at him as Tom snaked an arm around your waist and pulled your back to his chest. Aaron was stood now, Harrison and Tuwaine were still ready to jump to the defence again if they had to.
“You,” he started as he pointed at you, “are a pathetic little bitch who pines after a man who’ll throw you away as soon as someone better comes along and that won’t be hard to find.”
“Watch your mouth.” Harrison warned as he stood in front of you. Tom had recovered now, stopping the bleeding. Aaron laughed again as he made his way towards the exit.
“You know what Tom, you’re welcome to her. She’s a frigid little fucker anyway. Doesn’t put out often.” He said as he laughed. You watched as anger flared in Tom’s face. He let go of your waist as he went to follow him. You tried to grasp his arm but he was too quick. Harrison stepped in.
“Tom, she needs you.” He said as he gestured towards you. Everyone was still staring at what had just happened and it made you self-conscious as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Tom’s anger died down instantly, Haz was right, you needed him.
“Come on.” He said as he took your hand and led you into the women’s bathroom. Once he made sure no one was in there, he locked the door and took your face in his hands.
“Are you okay?” He asked softly and you laughed sadly.
“Me? He bust your nose.” You said as you grabbed a few paper towels, wetting them and cleaning the blood that was still on his face.
“Worth it.” He laughed lightly.
“I’m so sorry Tom.” You sighed after a few moments as you felt tears brim your eyes, throwing the paper towels away once you were satisfied he was clean.
“You have nothing to apologise for. He’s a dickhead and I’ll make sure he never comes anywhere near you again.” He said as he ran his fingers through your hair.
“I’m still sorry though.” You sighed.
He didn’t reply, he leant forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks before finally connecting your lips. It felt to good to feel his lips against yours again, you’d missed him. Missed all the love he gave and it made you cry again.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m gonna make it better, I promise.” He pulled you back into his chest and it filled you with a comfort you’d not had since he last held you like this.
“I love you.” You said.
“I love you too. I’m sorry we didn’t try and work through things last time. I know we wanted to salvage a friendship but I never stopped loving you. I want us to try again but when you’re ready.” He said as he kissed your head.
“I am Tom.” You said.
“No love you’re not. What he’s done to you needs time and you need to give yourself some time darling. I’ll still be here every step of the way but you need to heal yourself first, okay? We need to push those insecurities back but we need to do it properly, you need to love yourself again first.”
You thought about what he said for a while. He was right, jumping straight back into a relationship was not the best idea, no matter how much you loved him and he loved you. You needed to take some time for yourself, heal yourself and build back your confidence. You understood what he meant; he was still going to be there but he was going to be there as a best friend would.
You realised in that moment what it meant to truly love someone. He was being selfless so that you could heal, he was giving you time because that’s what you needed and he was doing that because he truly loved and cared for you.
“You’re right.” You nodded.
“I’ll still be here, still be there for you, I promise. It’ll take time but that’s okay, I’ll still be waiting but you have to promise you’ll take all the time you need.” He said as he placed a kiss to your forehead.
“I promise.”
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alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years
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Adoption Day
Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader
Word Count: 2089
For: Covers the Animal Shelter square for @adarafaelbarba 's fall moodboard bingo
TW: very brief mention of past childhood abuse and animal abandonment, but other than that, it's mostly fluff
Dedication: This is for the world's best cat mom, @madamsnape921 ,because it's her birthday! Go send her some birthday love today!
Author's Note: Jumping back a little in the Cat Daddy Frederick timeline to cover Buttercup's adoption story. Per my previously established continuity, this would take place in January, right after New Year's, and prior to "Not According to Plan"
Tags: @itsjustmyfantasyroom @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @raulesparza4eva @teamsladsandgents @rosequcrtz
The winter wind howled outside the window and snow drifted across the windowpanes, but inside Frederick Chilton’s ornate home you were safe and warm. No, our home, I live here now, you thought to yourself. You were still getting used to thinking of it as your home, too. You were unpacking the last of the boxes from your recent move. A fire was roaring in the living room fireplace, giving the room a cozy, comforting glow. You inhaled the aroma of the hearty vegetable stew that was cooking in the crockpot in the kitchen, and your stomach growled. You were going to need to take a dinner break soon, and as if he was reading your mind, Frederick entered the room and came over to where you were placing your books on the expansive built-in shelves.
“How goes it with the books? Do you need more shelf space? I can always move somethings into my office if you need more.”
“Thank you, Frederick, but don’t worry; I think I have more than enough. I am, however, getting rather hungry. I think it’s time we ate dinner, don’t you?
“I couldn’t agree more, my love, shall I set the table?” he asked, taking your hand, and helping you to your feet.
“Thank you, Frederick, that would be lovely.”
*****************
“This stew is fantastic, my love! We’ll most certainly have to use this recipe again.”
When you didn’t respond right away, Frederick started to worry and reached for your hand. “Darling?”
“Oh! Sorry! I zoned out for a moment, must be more tired than I thought; Thank you, Frederick, I have a whole slew of crock pot recipes that are perfect for cold winter days.”
“Y/N, are you alright? Have I done something wrong? Is it the house? Is there something you’re not happy with?”
“What? Oh, Frederick, no!” You squeezed his reassuringly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my love, and the house is perfectly fine. It’s just…” you paused, not sure how to broach your thoughts.
“What is it? Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it! Cost is no object!”
You took a breath and tried to collect your thoughts. You loved cats, but your previous apartment had not allowed pets. You had promised yourself that when you eventually moved you would be a cat mom again. It had been far too long. But it was something that you and Frederick hadn’t discussed yet, and you had no idea what his feelings were on the subject.
“What did you think about getting a cat?” You blurted out, bracing yourself for what you were sure was going to be an argument.
It was now Frederick’s turn to go silent, taken aback by your unexpected query. He mulled it over in his head before answering.
“Honestly, my love, I’ve never thought about it before. I never had a pet of any kind growing up. My parents did not allow animals in the house.”
“Oh, Frederick, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” In theory, you knew you probably should have guessed that. You knew that Frederick’s father had been a hard, cruel man, and had been abusive toward Frederick and his mother. Frederick’s mother had been so worn down by it that she eventually shutdown, mentally and emotionally, and neglected to protect her son when he needed it the most. Of course, they hadn’t allowed pets, they hadn’t even allowed their son to have a normal childhood, or an ounce of happiness.
“My darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” said Frederick, placing soft kisses on the back of your hand. “If it’s a cat you want, then a cat you shall have. I’ll do some research after we finish here. Cats need supplies, right? Food, litter, toys, those fancy cat trees, cute little sweaters?”
****************
After dinner you and Frederick sat side-by-side on the couch with your laptops, him researching what kind of supplies you going to need to buy, and you were looking at your local SPCA’s website.
“Good god, I had no idea how many different types of cat litter there were!”
“Oh, Frederick, if you think that’s bad, wait until you see how competitive the cat food market is. Hmm…that’s interesting…”
“What is it?” asked Frederick, looking over at your laptop.
“This listing here,” you said, pointing at a blank gray box. “There should be a picture here, like there is for the other listings, but it’s blank. It says it’s supposed to be a 2-month-old black female…. hang on; I have an idea.”
You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You hit “Call” and waited.
“Hello?” A voice finally picked up on the other end.
“Joanne! Hi! It’s Y/N. How are you?”
“I’m great, how are you? It’s been ages since the last time we hung out.”
“I’m good, and you’re right; it has been too long. Is this a good time to talk?”
“Sure! What’s up?”
“Do you still work for the county SPCA?”
“Oh, you bet I do! Oh my god, are you finally in the market to adopt?”
“Yes, I am, and I have a question about one of the cat listings on the website. The one that’s missing a picture?”
“Yes, I just noticed that a few hours ago. Our website person put that up prematurely. The kitten was just spayed, and normally we wait until the animal has had adequate recovery time before we add them to the site, but accidents happen. Last I checked, the little one is recovering nicely and should be ready to interact a couple days. She’s the sweetest thing. Someone dumped her in a cardboard box at our front door. She had a leg injury, but that’s also healing up. She loves to play, loves to cuddle, and I’ll think she’ll thrive in a good home. Would you like to make an appointment to see her?”
“Yes, I would! What time slots do you have available?”
*******************
A few days later, you and Frederick walked arm in arm into the county SPCA. Frederick had rush-ordered all the supplies you thought you’d need and then some. You both excited and nervous. You’d already taken a huge step by moving in together, and now you were adopting a pet. You looked over at Frederick and noticed the uncertainty in his eyes. He also seemed leaning on his cane for support. He always seemed to do that when he was unsure about something. You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and kissed his cheek.
“It’s going to be okay, Frederick, you’re to be a wonderful cat dad. I believe in you.”
Frederick blushed and placed a soft kiss on your temple.
“Thank you, my love, I appreciate your faith in me, even though I’m still not sure what’s done to deserve it, or you.”
Before you could respond to that, Joanne came out her office and rushed toward you.
“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s good to see you, too, Joanne.” You enveloped her in a big hug and then motioned to Frederick. “Joanne, this is Dr. Frederick Chilton, my Frederick.”
Frederick gave you the most loving of looks, and nearly melted into a puddle at your feet at sound of you referring to him as “your Frederick.”
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Chilton,” said Joanne, extending her hand.
“And you,” he replied, shaking hands.
“Well, I suppose you want to meet the little one; right this way!”
You and Frederick followed Joanne to cat section of the shelter. You walked past several cats, each one trying to get your attention from their enclosures. If you had your way, you’d take them all home, but you didn’t think Frederick was quite ready for that yet; but maybe one day…
“Here she is, “announced Joanne, stopping in front of one of the enclosures. A tiny black, fluffy kitten was inside, and her eyes lit up when she saw you. She was immediately on her feet, and you noticed she still had a slight limp in her injured leg, but she was full of energy and mewing incessantly. Joanne opened the door and carefully lifted her out. You reached out to take her, but the impatient kitten leapt out of Joanne’s hands and into your waiting arms.
“Oh! Hello! Hi baby, hi sweetheart,” you cooed.
“Mew, mew, mew!”
You looked into her eyes, and it was love at first sight. You did your best to hold onto her, shifting and adjusting your arms to accommodate her constant movement and attempts to climb up your shoulder. You gave her a little scratch between her ears and kissed her head. She was perfect.
“Mew! Mew!”
“Yes, baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”
Frederick stood there watching you with the kitten, completely dumbstruck. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall anymore in love with you, you had to go and surprise him. You were a natural cat mom, cradling the tiny ball of fluff and talking to her like she was a human. He saw the kitten rub her nose against your chin and looked like she was giving you kisses. He also saw the look of pure love and joy on your face, and he lived for that, wanted to see that every day. He didn’t know anything about raising a cat, but for you, he would try.
**************
Joanne led you to a visitor’s room so that you and Frederick could spend some quality time getting to know the kitten. Frederick removed his coat and offered to take the kitten so that you could take off yours. You demonstrated how to hold the kitten and then handed her to Frederick. He held her close to chest and sat down.
“Mew?” the kitten looked up at him, confused as to who this new person was.
“It’s alright, little one, I’ve got you,” he tried to reassure her. A lock of his normally perfectly quaffed hair suddenly flopped in his face, and the kitten’s eyes grew wide.
“Mew?” she raised a paw and tentatively batted at Frederick’s hair. “Mew…”
“Oh, that’s adorable,” you said, plopping down next to them on a bean bag chair. You saw the smile on his face and nudged him with your elbow. “See? She likes you. And I think she wants to play.” You looked around the room and saw the toy boxes, filled with various dog and cat toys, but then something else caught your eye. “Frederick?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Hand her back to me and take off your scarf, please.”
He did as he was told. You carefully placed the kitten on the carpet and proceeded to dangle the scarf in front if her. Her eyes went wide again, and then she crouched, wiggled her backside, and pounced. Her little paws batted at the scarf, then she would roll around kick at it with her hind legs.
“It certainly looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Frederick chuckled. “So, what are we going to call her?”
“I was thinking ‘Buttercup”,” you said matter-of-factly.
“I am not the least bit surprised,” he replied, immediately picking up on your reference. He looked at the kitten. “Well, what do you think about that little one?”
“Mew?”
“Your name,” you told her, “Buttercup, do you like it?”
“Mew, mew.” She forgot about the scarf and crawled into your lap, kneading you with her paws.
“I think she likes it.” You threw Frederick a smile.
“Yes, I quite think she does. I have an idea, how about a story? Would you like that Buttercup?”
“Mew.” She replied with a yawn,
“Darling, if you check your bag, I believe you’ll find a book there.”
You checked your purse, and sure enough, in the largest section was a children’s book, one that you instantly recognized from your own childhood.
“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”
“It came highly recommended by the lady at the bookstore.”
“It’s perfect, Frederick.” You handed him the book and leaned your head against his knee. As he began to read, Buttercup curled up in your lap and shut her eyes, she was soon fast asleep, purring away. When he finished reading, Frederick caressed your cheek with hand to get your attention.
“So, shall we go find Joanne and make it official?”
“Yes,” you replied, gazing down at Buttercup, “If we don’t take her home today, I think I’ll cry.”
“Then let’s go fill out the paperwork and bring her home.”
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merakiaes · 4 years
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The Inevitable - Aaron Hotchner
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader
Requested: By @dj-lowkey & anon. 
Prompts: #1, #21, #56 from the fluff-list. #23, #44 from the smut-list. 
Warnings/notes: Unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kids. Poorly written smut ahead, so beware. The smut scene is pretty short and the rest isn’t my best work but I promise everything else I have coming will be much better. ✨Following a new system, I’ll post the next Criminal Minds fic when I’ve gotten some comments and interaction on this one, so please let me know what you think.✨ I hope you like it, sorry for the long wait and thank you for being patient <3 (Not proofread so sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. Requests and taglist are both open.)
Wordcount: 8553
Summary: After years’ worth of painful, mutual pining, the inevitable finally happens. 
Being in love with a married man was… inconvenient, to say the least. Not only for the person in love nor the person at the receiving end of said love, but also for the people surrounding both parts; more specifically the loved one’s partner.
You had seen what could become of such an ordeal more than once growing up, your own family having fallen apart because your dad couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, and other families having fallen apart because your mom couldn’t respect other people’s marriages.
Although you guessed the latter of the two hadn’t been fully her fault, she had found herself playing the roles both of the home-wrecked, and that of the homewrecker herself, and while you in your younger years had thought the first option sounded worse, you had grown up to the realization that that wasn’t the case at all.
Becoming a homewrecker was probably the biggest no-no in your life. There was little you wouldn’t do to ensure your own happiness and content in life, but putting another’s happiness on the line in order to do so was a line you would never be willing to cross.
So falling in love with a married man was something you never, not ever in your entire lifetime, expected to know the feeling of. And yet here you were, head over heels in love with a married man, who also so happened to be your superior.
Aaron was a profiler, an experienced one, and he wasn’t stupid. He noticed the way you looked at him, the way you would always go an extra length to help him and make sure he was okay when things got tough, but also the way you would stay as far away from him as you possibly could whenever there wasn’t a direct need for the two of you to be close.
He knew you had feelings for him all the way from the start, having figured it out quite quickly, but you could obviously handle being professional and not acting on said feelings, so he never said anything.
Why would he? At the time, he didn’t see you as anything more than a friend, obviously as he was married and in love with his high school sweetheart, barely even knew you outside of work and had no reason to believe your attraction for him would get in the way of his life or work.
It wasn’t until after the divorce that the two of you started getting closer, when everyone noticed that he started staying behind late at the office, holed up in his office and passionately working on the paperwork that he was in no hurry whatsoever to complete.
After numerous confrontations from his fellow profilers and friends, he finally filled them in on what was happening; that Haley was filing for divorce, and after the divorce had been completed and he had moved out into his own apartment, you were the one to be there for him the most.
You made sure to remind him to take care of himself when he, clearly, wasn’t, you invited him over for dinner when you made it home from tough cases so that he wouldn’t have to cook for himself as you knew he already had a lot on his plate, always offered to take a load off his paperwork when you could, and always made sure he knew that he could come to you if he was struggling with, well, anything, really.
He was a divorcee and you felt a lot more comfortable personally interacting with him now that the risk of wrecking his marriage was out of the picture, but despite the fact that you were spending a lot more time with each other on personal time, getting to know each other and the fact that and your feelings remained, you never acted on your feelings.
Even so, you kept growing closer and both of you knew it. Eventually, you reached a point where neither of you quite knew what you were, but both of you knew for sure that you were more than just friends and coworkers.
As a result, he felt guilty. He was still committed and attached to Haley and felt like he was betraying her, and you felt guilty as well, immensely so, so you agreed to ignore the budding romance between you and remain no more than friends, without ever speaking a word about it out loud.
When Haley was killed you were, once again, left torn, as the inconvenient situation you found yourself in emotionally became all the more complicated; not only was he now a divorcee, but also a widower.
One part of you wanted to distance yourself even further from him, as you knew that the others knew of the feelings you harbored for him.
The thought of their disapproving reactions if you’d gotten together with a divorced man had been bad enough back when that matter on hand was still fresh. What would they think of you if you hurried to latch onto a man, a grieving man, who had just lost his wife, when they knew that you had been hoping for the right time to come around for years?
You didn’t even want to know, because you, of all people, knew how bad it would look. After all, your mother had set a pretty good example of it.
But the other part of you knew that he needed you, now more than ever, and in the end, this part was the one who won, as you couldn’t imagine leaving him to fend for himself when he was in dire need of the support you could offer him.
So you stood by his side, acted as the pillar off support that he needed, but now more than ever, you were determined to keep your romantic feelings for yourself, and careful not to slip in testing situations.
It was hard not to, with the way he always managed to get himself hurt in the field, sending you into a panicked spiral and weakening your heart, metaphorically speaking, every single one of those times, but you thought you were doing a pretty good job.
You thought.
Unbeknownst to you, the team all agreed that it was only a matter of time before you got together.
They had watched you interact and grow closer for almost two entire year before the death of Haley. They had known, even before Hotch himself had, that he was ready to move on, and even though the loss was sure to slow things down, they all knew there was no possibility for the two of you going back to being “just friends.”
They had called it, like they always did, and they got it proven in well time, as Hotch slowly began recovering from the loss and allowed himself to warm up to you again, just like he had after the divorce.
You would hug in the office when you thought no one was looking, whenever he was having a particularly rough day and you saw that he was in need of comfort, and it was all just so obvious.
You knew strangely private things about each other – habits and quirks, childhood memories, favourites, likes and dislikes; you even knew what kind of shampoo the other used so, to summarize, things literally no one else knew.
When you went to follow separate leads on cases, you were always the one he called for an update, never the person you were partnered up with, no matter who that may be. And that went both ways, you always calling him.
You “casually” hung out outside of work all the time, getting coffee, going out for dinner, riding in to work with each other, going for bike rides with and without Jack, and taking Jack out for other activities almost weekly, as well.
You babysat Jack all the time whenever him or Jessica weren’t available to do so, even more so now that Haley was gone, and he loved you, running straight into your arms whenever he came to visit the office.
When you for some reason hadn’t seen the youngest Hotchner in a long while, you always asked Hotch how he was doing with his mom, in school and just in general, if he was eating well, getting enough sleep, and if he was making any friends.
You never addressed each other by your last names, and he was never interested in other women, nor were you in other men.
When you had been on a case in Florida and had to interview people at a strip club, he was the only one who didn’t pay the working girls as much as a glance. Hell, even Spencer couldn’t keep his eyes to himself, but Hotch was only looking at you, throwing you glances where you stood at the other side of the room, completely oblivious to the way Rossi was watching his every move, and the way the corner of his lip would tug up ever so slightly.
You had both been like that since you first started connecting on a deeper level. When either of you were talking to someone, your eyes always trailed off to look at the other on the other side of the room, always having to make sure the other was alright. You were only ever fully committed to the conversation at hand if the other was either right beside you, or not there at all; in any other case, your attention was always compromised.
You were longing for physical contact, it was clear in the way you looked ateach other, way too long for claiming to be “just friends”, and obvious to everyone but you in the moments it would occur. 
Two of the best profilers in the country and yet, neither of you saw the way the other looked at you, or how your behavior could affect the other; more specifically how you affected him.
If he was ever hesitant about taking on a case, he gave in and agreed to put the team on it in less than a second if you sided with whoever as making the pitch and tried to push it, almost too easily, and he always turned to you for a second opinion if he finds himself doubting himself, and that was a kind of vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone else.
You had even built your own Friday night routine with each other, where you went over for dinner at his place and after that watched movies together with him and Jack until the latter fell asleep, something the team had only found out because they had caught you coming in to the office together after being called in for last-minute cases dressed in casual clothing with identical wine stains on your shirts.
You were a very physical person, that much had become clear when you first joined the team. While you liked giving out hugs left and right, even holding your friends’ hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he was not like that. He was the exact opposite.
And yet, whenever you would go over to Rossi’s house for dinner with the rest of the team and you were sitting close to each other, he did nothing to object when you threw your legs over his thighs, nor did he protest when you fell asleep on his shoulder on the jet.
Rather on the contrary, he instinctively held on to your calves, without ever breaking away from the conversation at hand, and absentmindedly leaned his head down to yours.
He would also let his hand linger on the small of your back whenever you walked next to each other, as if he didn’t even notice he was doing it in the first place, and he was completely unbothered whenever you would fuss over his appearance by reaching up to straighten his tie and the front of his suit, fix his hair when it was out of place or this one time when you licked your thumb to wipe away the ink on his cheek that had been transferred from his hand, on which Jack had drawn his best attempt of Spider-Man.
You got him to do things completely out of his comfort zone when you were out, both when it was just the two of you and when you went somewhere with the team, whether it be joining in on karaoke night or going up a rollercoaster.
You teased each other constantly when you thought no one was looking and out of the entire team, you were the one most likely to make him smile and crack a joke.
He was just different with you, always so emotionally complex and closed off, hard to read, stoic and guarded. But with you he was everything but those things, letting his walls fall down and showing a side to him that the people closest to him had only ever seen him sport around Haley before.
It was ridiculous, the two of you always acting as if you were telepathically connected, always looked at each other too long to be just friends, with brief, longing gazes accompanied by “accidental” hand touches. In the eyes of any outsider, it was like you were married.
Hotch cared for everyone on the team, but his care for you ran deeper, much deeper. He always let you easier off the hook when you went against protocol, but if said break of protocol ended up getting you into a life-threatening situation, he scolded you worse than he would any other member of the team, because he was terrified of losing you.
But neither of you did anything to act on the feelings you obviously had for each other, and for what? Because you worked together and it would be unprofessional? Problematic for the team? The team couldn’t quite figure it out and to be frank, neither could you. At this point, you were both just grasping at any excuse you could get to avoid the inevitable.
Because it was inevitable. Everyone around you knew it, and the team was so confident in your eventual get-together that they had placed bets on when, where and how you were finally going to confess, and that moment was closer than they would’ve imagined.
“You okay? You’ve been quiet today.” You spoke as you analyzed Hotch’s distant behavior from the other side of the table.
You had been watching him for the past few minutes, not having much else to do on the jet when everyone else was busy doing their own thing.
He was looking down into the file of the case you were just coming from. His eyebrows were furrowed with concentration but his eyes remained still and he never flipped the page, telling you that he wasn’t actually reading, and easily giving away the fact that something was bothering him.
At the sound of your voice and question, he slowly raised his head to look at you. He gave you a sullen, calculating look, his brows still creased together.
“I’m always quiet.” He replied, and you sadly smiled.
“More than usual.” You pointed out, and the two of you held each other’s eyes for a moment, before his hands slowly began closing the file in his hands.
He sighed. “Jack had his first tantrum this morning, and I don’t know if I handled it in the best way.”
“What happened?” You wasted no time in asking, leaning forward with your arms on your knees to get closer; as both of you always were in one way or another.
You watched as he turned his head to the side to look out into the darkness on the other side of the window, and then as he dragged is hands up and down his thighs once before turning back to meet your eyes.
“I wouldn’t let him have ice cream for breakfast and in return… he yelled at me that he hated me and threw his cereal on the floor, so I told him that he couldn’t play video games for the rest of the week, and he started crying, and locked himself into the bathroom.”
His voice was low, almost as if he were ashamed, and his eyes were swirling with guilt.
“I’ve never had to discipline him like that before. Being hard with criminals is one thing but he’s my son, and it felt wrong to punish him.”
“You did the right thing, and he’ll realize that when he gets older.” You offered him a comforting smile, and then let out a small laugh. “Just take it from someone who got away with everything throughout their childhood and ended up being the worst, most entitled bitch all through high school.”
At that, a small chuckle slipped past his lips, too, his previously furrowed eyebrows and stoic expression relaxing. “I’m having a hard time picturing you as a mean girl.” He replied, amusement now written all over his face.
“Oh, you have no idea. All of you would’ve hated me.” You laughed and shook your head. “I guess I was one of the lucky ones. Realized that my behavior was hurting others and changed for the better. I don’t think I would’ve ended up in this line of work if I hadn’t.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.” He smiled, and you did, as well.
“Me, too.”
Again, you held each other’s gazes in a moment of silence, before he looked away to look at his hand in his lap. His face once again fell into a concentrated frown.  
The sight brought a sigh from your lips; not an annoyed one, but rather one out of pity. You hated that he doubted his ability to raise Jack so often, when he was such a good dad. 
“You’re a good father, Aaron, and Jack will come around soon.” You told him, causing him to look back up. “Children don’t have the same capability to hold grudges as adults do. He’ll be mad at you for one day, tops, and then he’ll forget all about it and not even care about the video games. You shrugged and offered him another smile, and the corners of his lips once again turned up. 
“Thank you. I really needed to hear that, it means a lot.” He thanked you, looking down for a brief second before looking back up at you. “He’s been asking for you, you know.”
“Asking for me, or for my cupcakes?” You raised a humorous eyebrow, and he chuckled.
“Both.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to make him some on my next day off.” You promised, and he nodded.
“He’ll appreciate that.”
You grinned at him, and then you turned your head to the side to look out the window, figuring the conversation was done and wanting to leave him to rest as you still had well over an hour left of a flight.
But he didn’t seem to be done talking, the sound of your own name reaching your ears only a few seconds later.
“(Y/N).”
You turned your head back, once again meeting his brown eyes and raising your eyebrows. “Yeah?” You asked.
Lips pulled into a thin line, he watched you for a moment, scanning your face and taking in every little feature and detail.
“I hope you know-” He finally continued. “We could never hate you.”
He was referring to your earlier claim, you realized almost instantly. And just as quickly, your lips stretched into a large smile, your heart fluttering in your chest and your body turning warm.
Like always, while outwardly appearing to be minding their own business, the team had been listening in on the entire conversation and looked up from their respective choice of activity – whether that be a game of cards, a book, a case file, or nothing at all – at the sound of their superior’s words, exchanging knowing looks as all of them knew that “we”, in reality meant “I”.
They kept sneaking fond glances of the two of you as Hotch went back to the file and you went back to staring out the window, both of you clearly trying to suppress identical smiles judging by the way your lips were trembling.
It was only a matter of time now, they knew. They just wished that it had been under less fatal circumstances.
You guessed you shouldn’t have been surprised; with the line of work you were in, you were always in danger. But still, you didn’t think anyone would ever be fully prepared for the possibility of being shot in their own home, which was still exactly what had happened to you.
You had just made it back home after the long flight, still smiling to yourself as the thoughts and emptions of the “goodnight” you’d shared with Hotch before you parted ways was fresh on your mind and in your body.
Like you always did upon returning home, you turned off the sprinkler and grabbed the mail before heading up the path leading to the front steps and unlocked the door.
It was dark inside, just like you’d left it, and after you’d closed the door behind you, you didn’t get the time to reach for the light switch, much less defend yourself, before you were hit in the back of the head, a gunshot ringing through the air only seconds later.
Luckily, your attacker was a lousy shot, so you managed, although barely, to hold on to your life and miraculously pulled through without bleeding out for the four long hours it took before you were found by a bypassing neighbor who noticed your feet inside the now open front door.
It was one of the rare nights where you had gotten to go home rather than immediately being called in for another case the second the wheels of the jet hit the ground upon returning home, so the entire team had been asleep in their respective homes when they got the calls.
The only person who hadn’t been asleep was Rossi, so he had been the first one to pick up his phone and get to the hospital where you were rushed into surgery, being the one who had to greet the rest of the team as they arrived, still ridden by sleep, one by one.
Hotch had, despite your close relationship, been the last to arrive as he’d had to take Jack over to Jessica’s house, and by then, Rossi had filled everyone else in on your critical condition, and the uncertainty of your survival.
The entire team was in a mixture of shock and fear, some pacing the waiting room, gnawing on their nails and fingers, and others holding on to the armrests of their chairs for dear life while they bounced their legs with nerves and tried their best to keep it together.
For Hotch who was last to arrive to the scene, being greeted with this sight was everything but comforting, and for the first time since Haley’s passing, he broke character and broke down; in the way Hotch did, with an intense inner conflict of grief and blind, red, raging anger.
Rossi recognized the signs of his inner conflict the second he met his good friend’s gaze and moved him out into the hallway to brief him on the situation in private, being one of the few people who understood how bad it could get if he lost his temper.
And boy did he lose it, the two of them ending up having a heated discussion out in the hallway; one part being unable to stay calm, and the other desperately trying to discuss rationally.  
I think you can guess who played which part.
They waited and waited, for a long two hours, thirty-five minutes and eighteen seconds – yes, Spencer counted – before finally, the surgeon came out into the room in which they were all waiting to let them know that you were stable and going to be alright.
Once they knew you were going to live, they wasted no time in taking action and starting an investigation, everyone going back to the scene of crime while Penelope stayed and watched over you.
You kept having the weirdest dreams as you slept, and you weren’t able to tell dream and reality apart the times you woke up in all your drugged down glory. 
But luckily, you were indefinitely awake the next morning, being greeted first thing with an interrogation by Rossi and Emily.
The team kept coming in and out but didn’t tell you much about the investigation at hand, saying that it could wait until you were fully rested, but Hotch was nowhere in sight the first day, and much to your disappointment, he didn’t visit you any other day either.
But you understood; he was busy calculating a plan of how to track and take the unsub who had shot you down, and when you got back to the office and he wasn’t there either, Emily telling you that Jack had gotten sick and Hotch had taken a few days off, you knew he had even more on his plate.
If only you’d have known if there were more to it than that.
The last time you had unlocked and opened your front door, you had been greeted by a blow to the back of your head and a bullet in your side, so when you went back home after being released from the hospital, Penelope came home with you to unlock and open the door for you, completely on her own initiative.
Ever since, both her and the others had dropped by on several occasions to make sure you were okay, that you were taking care of the wounds properly, that you had food in your fridge and snacks in your pantry.
Some stayed longer than others, but one hadn’t shown up a single time; this also happening to be the person who never left your mind.
You couldn’t bring yourself to be upset over it though, again since you knew he was busy looking for your attacker all while taking care of a sick Jack, and also because your pain medications made you feel completely indifferent to everything and everyone around you, leaving only a dull ache of helplessness.
They were so strong that you couldn’t do much else than just stare into the screen of your TV all day long, and so strong that you didn’t even realize there was a knock at your front door as you laid in bed, staring into the ceiling.
It probably wasn’t very smart for you to stay by yourself in the very place you’d been attacked when you were in no state to defend yourself should it happen again, but you refused to stay at the office like the entire team had tried convincing you to.
You convinced the others you would be fine, that you weren’t scared. And you hadn’t been, not once, until the sound of floorboards creaking reached your ears, coming from the living room right outside your bedroom.
Your heart automatically picked up speed in your chest and your head whipped to the doorway at the sound. Instinctively you rushed out of bed, completely ignoring the pain that shot through your head and side at the sudden movements and opening the drawer of your bedside table to bring out your gun.
You pulled back the safety and held it up in front of you, barrel pointed at the doorway as the lights of the hallway outside flicked on.
Your breath shook and so did your hands, palms getting clammy with sweat. You waited anxiously for another few seconds, silently listening to the footsteps getting closer, and your heartbeat quickening even further as you caught the first sight of a shadow on the floor.
Hadn’t you been so heavily drugged, you would’ve pulled the trigger the second the form appeared in the doorway, but luckily you didn’t, getting the time you needed to realize it wasn’t an intruder and lowering the gun before any harm could be done.
“Jesus, Aaron. You scared me half to death.” You let out a breath as the man in question stepped into your room.
You turned back to your nightstand and hid the gun away where you’d found it after clicking the safety back into place, and Hotch watched you with slow, calculating moves.
“I’m sorry. You didn’t answer the door so I let myself in.” He replied simply, little to no emotion in his voice nor in his face when you turned back to look at him.
“It’s okay.” You assured him, moving your hand to your forehead when a sudden spell of dizziness hit you.
He wasted no time in walking around the bed to come to your aid at the sight, grabbing your hands in his and slowly and carefully helping you sit back down at the edge of the bed.
“Thank you.” You thanked him.
“Do you need your medication?” He asked, and you slowly shook your head, keeping your eyes closed and your head lowered as you rubbed your temple.
“No, I’m alright. Just stood up too quickly is all.” You let out a tired breath, taking another moment to collect yourself before looking up to meet his waiting gaze.
“Not that I mind, but what are you doing here this late? Don’t you have to watch over Jack? Is everything okay?”
You watched as his eyes darkened and his lips pulled into a straight line. “Jack is with his aunt. I came here because I needed to see that you were okay. I’m sorry I haven’t checked in earlier.”
His eyes were apologetic and guilt was evident on his face and in the way he held himself; stiff and curt. But you only faced him with a smile, like you always did.
“It’s fine. I know you’ve been busy.” You assured him, holding your smile for another moment before hesitantly continuing. “Do you have any leads?”
He stared at you, his eyes turning a shade darker as the matter at hand, the matter that had almost gotten you killed, was brought up. 
“JJ and Spencer are following one as we speak, but that conversation can wait until later. Right now, we need to talk. More specifically, I need to talk. I need to tell you something.”
Your smile faltered at his words and the seriousness behind them, being completely replaced by nervousness. “Okay.” Was the only response you could muster in return.
He was known to be a very serious man, but he never was with you, not in the way he was with everyone else, so the possibilities of what he wanted to say clouded your head, none of them good and definitely not even close to what you had coming. 
“When I got the call that you had been shot, I realized something. I realized that… when I’m with you, I feel like I’m home, in a way I haven’t felt since I was with Haley. And seeing you in a life-threatening situation like I did the night you were shot, constantly thinking of the possibility that we... That I might have lost you, made me feel lost, like I didn’t know where I belonged anymore.”
“Aaron-“
“Please, I’m not finished.” He interrupted you gently, and you slowly nodded, remaining quiet and allowing him to continue.
“There’s no use in wasting time so I’m just going to say it. I love you, and I think I’ve known that for a while now. I wasn’t planning on acting on it for the sake of our work situation but seeing you hurt, knowing you could’ve…” He paused and his face faltered. “I couldn’t keep quiet about my feelings any longer. I don’t expect you to reciprocate them, but I needed you to know because I would’ve regretted not telling you every day for the rest of my life if I lost you without letting you know how much you mean to me.”
All you could hear when he finished talking was your own heartbeat, thudding and pulsating through your entire body and all the way up to your ears. Your hands was yet again trembling and clamming up, but this time for an entirely different reason.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say those words.” You whispered, and his face hardened in expectation.
“Are you saying that you…”
“Yes. I’ve never wanted anyone this badly before, in any way.” You interrupted him, and bravely brought your hands up to his face. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner. I always have, and I want you in every way a person can want another.”
He raised his hands and placed them on top of yours where they were cradling his cheeks, and then the two of you met in the middle, your lips touching with a gentle brush to a start to test the unknown waters, but quickly pressing together with more force.
Your entire body was overcome with tingles and butterflies in a matter of seconds and as it drowned out the dreadful pain, both mental and physical, that you’d been feeling for the past few days, you immediately found yourself needing more; needing for it to never stop.
The kiss quickly deepened, Hotch’s hands leaving yours to move to your cheeks instead, and your hands moving from his face to wrap around the back of his neck, where you wasted no time in slipping your fingers into his hair.
You didn’t know what came over you.
You didn’t know if it was the fact that you were high on various pain medications, if it was the fear that you had suppressed the entire time since your shooting finally showing itself and ridding you of all logic and self-control, or if it was just the fact that you had been waiting for this moment for so long, but whatever it was, it made you desperate in a way you’d never been desperate before.
Not even a minute into the kiss, your hands moved from his neck, down his shoulders and to the front of his jacket, where you didn’t waste any time in beginning to push at the fabric in an attempt to get it off.
At this, Hotch broke away from the kiss, his breathing heavy and uneven, and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked into your eyes. “We shouldn’t, you’re not healed.” He said in protest, but his darkening eyes and the way he was slowly, absentmindedly moving his hands down from your face to the lower hem of your shirt didn’t quite agree with his voicing of disapproval.
“I’m healed enough.” You breathed back, pleadingly so. “Please, I just want to feel something else than this… this dull ache.”
There was obviously more psychological pain and trouble left behind by the incident than you’d let on to the team, he realized as he analyzed your face, and he could do nothing other than nod.
“Let me know if I hurt you, in any way.” He told you, staring into your eyes with a determination that let you know that he wouldn’t take it well if you didn’t do as told.  
As his forehead pressed against yours, you closed your eyes and nodded. “I promise I will, but you won’t.” You mumbled.
Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his eyes burning into your face for another few seconds, just analyzing you and the situation at hand, before he finally gave in and caught you in another kiss.
Again, the kiss escalated in a matter of mere seconds and before you knew it, you were slowly being lowered onto your back.
Your arms wrapped around his neck again and he kept one of his on your cheek, while the other held the small of your back to make sure you weren’t twisting your hurt side in any uncomfortable ways.
Once you were properly situated and he was balancing above you on his hands and elbows, you made another attempt at getting him out of his jacket and this time he didn’t protest, helping you by pulling his arms out and letting you throw the article of clothing to the floor.
His shirt wasn’t far behind after you’d blindly unbuttoned it, and you wasted no time in trailing your hands down his toned chest to his abdomen and stopping only when your fingers made contact of the hem of his pants where you undid the single button and pulled down the accompanying zipper.
“Are you sure?” He mumbled against your lips, and as an answer, you grabbed at the hem on either side of his hips and pulled down.
“Yes.”
Getting all the confirmation he needed, he helped you take off his pants and shook them off his legs and to the floor, before carefully beginning to help you out of your shirt.
Luckily, you were wearing a button-up too, making it easy to get it off as opposed to the struggle it would have been if you had been wearing a normal t-shirt, as you could barely lift your arms without risking the stitches in your side being ripped.
It was because of that very risk that he was still very hesitant in his movements, touching you with hands, fingers and kisses so light, as if you were made out of porcelain; and you guessed you kind of were in this moment.
But he showed no signs of wanting to stop, as an unreadable expression crossed over his face when he was first met with the sight of your bare upper body.
“You’re so beautiful.” He told you in a breath, his voice deeper than usual and his brown eyes darkening to the point where they looked pure black in the little light contributed by the lamp in your bedroom window.
He bent back down to your face after discarding you of your shorts and latched his lips back onto yours, your arms returning to wrap around his neck while he slowly brought his hand down the length of your body.
You hadn’t been kissing nor touching each other for more than a mere few minutes, but you’d be surprised at how quickly the human body could get ready for something it had been awaiting and yearning for, for such a long time - Hotch already hard in his briefs and you already slick with wetness as he dipped his finger between your folds.
A shaky breath left your lips as his finger brushed over the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you tugged at the hair at the back of his head when he eased a digit into your heat.
He knew exactly what to do, curling his finger and gently caressing the inner ceiling in search of your sweet spot. For experienced men, of which he was one, that wasn’t hard, and he quickly had you tensing up as the first moan slipped past your lips and your head fell back into the pillows underneath you. 
He easily slipped another finger in after stretching you out for another moment, your body relaxing and becoming more and more willing for him for every second that passed.
Once he found the rhythm that appeared to please you the most, he added his thumb to the equation, adding pressure on your clit and rubbing it with small circles.
Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest and you were unable to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure he was giving you, a shiver running down your spine when he leaned his head back down and began trailing kisses down your neck, shoulders and breasts.
He worked you with his fingers for a while, before he couldn’t take the sounds of your moans any longer and released himself from his boxers, lining himself up at your entrance.
Feeling a sense of loss and emptiness now that his fingers were gone, you wasted no time in raising your legs and wrapping them around him, pulling him against you and urging him to push inside which he, in turn, wasted no time in obeying to.
You held your breath as he entered you, stretching you out and reaching further than his fingers ever could. His head was buried in the crook between your neck and shoulder, heavy breaths coming out his nose and dampening your skin.
He began raising his head from your neck, and before he could either speak or look at you, you nodded your head.
“I’m alright.” You spoke, and at that he immediately locked his lips with yours and slowly began moving out, and then into you again.
You held the kiss for as long as you could, but as he soon quickened his pace and it became too much to keep track of at the same time, your head simply fell back into the pillows while his moved back to the curve of your neck, one of his hands holding the weight of his body and the other moving back and forth between your breasts and the sensitive bundle of nerves that was just begging for release.
And release came sooner than you thought for both of you, the two of you toppling over the edge as you reached your climaxes one after another.
It wasn’t the longest session either of you had partaken in throughout your lives but for now, it was enough. And either way, you knew that after this, other times would come, with better and less strained circumstances.
The throbbing pain in your side that you had been too distracted to notice when you had been caught up in the pleasure, returned all at once like a metaphorical slap to your face the second you came down from your high, so that Hotch had to help you back into your night shirt once you were cleaned up.
“Are you staying the night?” You asked softly, watching his concentrated face as he buttoned your shirt back up.
He glanced up at you at the sound of your words, giving you a hesitant look. “If you don’t want me to leave.”
Your head instantly shook and you brought your hands to his, stopping him from buttoning the last few buttons by stepping closer to him and moving his hands to your waist.
“No, stay.” You whispered, bringing your hands up to his bare shoulders.
He rubbed his thumbs over your hipbones and nodded, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to your lips, which you gladly returned.
Together, you moved back to the bed, flicking off the ceiling lamp on your way, that you had turned on when cleaning yourselves and each other up in the bathroom.
You got into bed and you instantly started getting situated to sleep in the position you always did, carefully so in order to not disturb your stitches, but Hotch didn’t seem to be able to settle down as easily as you.
“What are you doing?” You asked with a light chuckle, watching with amusement as he moved the pillows back and forth behind him.
He didn’t even look up at your question. “Trying to get comfortable. Your mattress is not the most-”
“Hey, don’t hate on the mattress.” You interrupted him, giving him a feign glare when he looked up to meet your eyes, before raising an amused eyebrow. “And stop stealing all of my pillows. I need them more than you do.” You joked, snatching one of them back and gently hitting his arm with it.
His concentrated, determined frown disappeared and was replaced with a fond smile, a small chuckle slipping past his lips. “Come here.” He said, giving up on the pillows and opening his arms.
You didn’t waste any time, slowly and carefully moving into his arms after placing your pillow where it would provide the most comfort and support for your head, and humming in contentment once you were successfully comfortable.
You were content for a minute, just laying in silence while Hotch’s thumb gently caressed your upper arm and your finger drew lazy circles on his still bare chest. 
For just a minute, every problem in the world was gone, just leaving the two of you, and peace.
And then the moment was ruined, ripped away from you and replaced with the ugly face of reality with a single beep of his phone.
He heaved a heavy sigh, his thumb stilling on your arm and remaining there for another moment, before he unwrapped his arm from around you and sat up on the edge of the bed, reaching for his pants that were now laid out on a chair within arm’s reach and bringing his phone out of the pocket.
“What is it?” You wasted no time in asking, clumsily pushing yourself up into a sitting position again while he read whatever message he had just gotten.
“Morgan.” He told you simply, his eyes scanning the screen once more before he locked the phone and put it back in the pocket. ”The old lead fell out but they found another.”
“A lead for-?”
“Yes.” He confirmed before you could ask. “We’re wheels up in an hour.”
“I’m coming with you.” You hurriedly began crawling out of bed, but you were instantly stopped, Hotch reaching out to catch your wrist and turning back to face you.
“You’re staying here.” He told you sternly, his role of your boss returning now that things were serious again. “And I need to take a shower before I go.”
“No, don’t go. Not yet.” You pleaded, sucking on the inside of your lip as your heartbeat increased in speed as the suppressed fear of being alone once again began resurfacing.
“I can’t show up to the jet like this.” He told you, and you nodded.
“Okay, so I’ll join you in the shower.”
“With your bandage?” He raised his eyebrows, an amused smile playing on his lips.
“It needs to be changed, anyway.” You shrugged.
“You’re not supposed to get it wet.”
“Fine, I’ll cover myself in plastic wrap.” You jokingly said, crawling closer to the edge on which he was sitting and grabbing a hold of his shoulders once you got close enough.
“You drive a hard bargain.” He chuckled, looking up at you where you stood above him on your knees.
You smiled, squeezing his hand when it slipped down from your wrist and into yours. “Yeah? You think I should go for becoming a prosecutor?” You mused in a mumble, moving your hands up to his jaw and leaning in closer.
He welcomed the proximity with no protest, his gentle smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “No. You’re too nice.” He pointed out in a mumble, and softly pressed his lips to yours.
“No matter how much I’d love it if you joined me in the shower, you need to let the stitches heal. You’ve already challenged them enough as it is.” He mumbled into the kiss, and you let out a shaky breath.
“I don’t want you to go.” You whispered back. “I don’t want to be alone.”
He kissed you again, before pulling away and bringing a hand to your face. “I’ll call Garcia and have her come over and keep you company.” He said, and you shook your head.
“No, you need her help from the office.”
“She can bring the gear she needs. I’m not leaving you here alone.” He pushed. “I promise we’ll talk more when I get back.”
You sighed but couldn’t hold back the mischievous grin rising to your lips. “Can we do this again, too?” You asked, and watched as his smile took a boyish turn.
“Is that a trick question?”
Your smile widened. “No, but I just got my answer.” You replied, and leaned in and pressed your lips to his a final time, holding the kiss longer this time, until another beep from his phone forced you to pull away.
You fell back onto the bed and he stood up, beginning to collect his clothes and heading for the open bathroom door the next second.
You watched him enter the dark room and flick on the light, and as he then put his clothes down on top of the closed laundry hamper. Without looking out, he reached for the door and began closing it.
Before he could, however, you called out from the bed. “Hey, Hotchner.”
He turned to look at you at the sound of his name falling from your lips, your eyes meeting.
“Tell me again before you go, will you?” You asked simply.
He stared at you for a moment, face completely overtaken by exhaustion just like yours was, before the corner of his lip tugged up ever so lightly.
“I love you.” He said, and you smiled, hugging the pillow under your head closer.
“I love you, too.”
You exchanged one last look, one last smile, before he slowly closed the door, breaking your line of sight from each other.
A minute later, you heard the shower being turned on, and you closed your eyes as a sudden wave of tiredness overcame you.
By the time Hotch got out of the shower and came back out, dressed and ready to leave, you were fast asleep. So he left you with no more than a soft kiss to the top of your head, not wanting to wake you up just to say goodbye, and called Garcia the second he was out the door.
You slept soundly for the next half hour, before being awoken by the overly energetic woman in question barging into your bedroom with bags, and bags and bags of technical equipment that you didn’t even begin to know how to work, complaining about Kevin having brought her the wrong brand of ice cream.
It wasn’t until she noticed Hotch’s signature red tie at her feet on the floor that she quietened down, looking up and taking note of your messy hair and even messier sheets where you were forcing yourself awake in bed.
You felt sorry for your neighbors for the deafeningly loud scream that followed her moment of realization, but you felt even more sorry for yourself, as you had to spend the rest of the night listening to her rambling your ears off about her winning the bet and the others owing her a fuck-ton of cash, and her demanding every, dirty little detail, which you had no choice but to give up. 
As for the rest of the team, they could do nothing but silently stare when Hotch arrived at the airport with wet, messy hair, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his tie nowhere in sight. 
They had their suspicions just from the mere sight of him, but when he passed them to get to his seat on the jet, leaving a gust of air behind in which all they could smell was the scent of your shampoo, they knew for sure, that the inevitable had finally happened.
Tagged: @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @zizzlekwum​ @cozytruecrimeaddict​ @rousethemouse​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @sgold​ @fanficscuziranout​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @lovelynervouskingdom​ @thesassmisstress​ @witchcraftandwit​
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life-rewritten · 3 years
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THE GIANTS OF THAI BL 2020 AKA SHOWS STEALING MY HEART IN NOVEMBER
UPDATE AND UPCOMING ANALYSIS NOVEMBER 2020
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It's the moment I've been waiting for since the excruciating silence of Thai BLS during the lockdown. It's November, the month of thanksgivings, the month of pre-Christmas jitters, nanowrimo and the month that has finally made me realise we are so close to ending this godforsaken year. Still, most of all, November means that we are getting buttloads of shows that are about to take my breath away. This year has been such an exciting year for BLS because of the increasingly amount of companies and directors willing to produce and release different types of BLS. In this list, we have awaited sequels, delicious plotlines and shocking comebacks. But most of all we have lots and lots of romance and men. Which of these have you been waiting for? Let me know. Let's squeal about it. November is going to be so great!
Ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these shows?
Shows already airing
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1.I TOLD SUNSET ABOUT YOU/ INTERPRET, MY LOVE, WITH YOUR HEART
Genre/Themes: Romance, Melodrama, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship
Country: Thailand
Verdict: So finally I rise from the memories of poorly produced bls, and pains of bad acting, and toxic writings, and traumas of stiff actors and homophobic agendas to finally say that without a doubt. Nadao has produced another masterpiece after my other favourite (Non) BL; Greater Man academy. Nadao stuns me, and for a very long time, I couldn't understand that this was how everyone was feeling, one because I wasn't fully educated or in the know about the company, I only saw tv shows in Thailand that were produced by GMMTV and to be honest I didn't think there was anything else above that standard in shows apart from Lakorns and Movies. (I know Sacrebleu) Getting to know and watch Nadao shows has been an experience, and for BL, I am hooked and ready for what else they have to offer. The only qualms that prevent me from gushing about the show are how international fans are treated. It took me a very long time to forgive ITSAY for its subbing platform (and price range), and that's why I refused to watch it with positive feelings. After episode 2 though, I'd be a fool to hold on to resentment when there is no doubt that this BL (despite not knowing if it's a sad ending. I'd hate if it is but it wouldn't change anything) is the best BL of this year. With ridiculous, incredible production, outstanding breathtaking cinematography, beautiful and talented actors and writing so good it blows me away. Episode 2 left my heart in pieces, but in a good way, I haven't recovered from the angst.
Ratings: 4.5/5 Would have been a 5/5 if the pricing made sense but also I'm terrified about a sad ending which I won't be too happy about.
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2. FRIEND FOREVER/ OUR LOVE IS SICK
Genre/Themes: Romance, Music, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship, Rich vs poor,  Bullying 
Country: Thailand
Verdict: It's a pity this show is not available for international fans. Because I think people would actually love this show the way I do. It's so precious, reminds me so much of my first ever BL Lovesick (made by the same production team so makes sense) but better. What can I say about this show, really adorable cast, actually so good on the screen, great chemistry, and good storylines that keep me hooked. I am so in love with surprisingly one of my favourite couples this year Tin and Sea. I have such a great time watching this show, and I enjoy also analysing and just piecing together some of the mysteries in the show. It's been so good so far, and I can't wait for more. The first episodes are a little slow-paced, but it gets better as you keep watching it. I'd advise you to watch the director's cut because that has all of the storylines in the episode instead of the tv version which is more censored and has a lot of deleted scenes that mess with the flow of the storyline. Still, one of my favourite Thai shows right now. 
Ratings: 4/5  I think 4/5 is a fair score just because of some confusion when trying to watch it internationally and getting the right version and I do think the story feels like a whiplash between the different styles of writing of the main two couples. Go watch this though if you haven't, dm me and I'll show you how. 
NON-THAI
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3. GAYA SA PELIKULA
Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, LGBTQ+ Education, Contract relationship, Haters to lovers
Country: Philippines 
Verdict: Normally with verdicts, I have so much to say about a show, also when I analyse I can write essays and essays of information. When it comes to this show, I'm speechless. I'm in awe; I'm crying just even trying to explain how great this show is. How great Fridays are because of this show. How upsetting and damaged I am when the end of the episode occurs, I literally mourn waiting for the next episode the next week because it's too long. This show pulls you in, and it never lets you go. I'm mindblown by the writing of this show, mindblown by the acting, by the production, music, but most of all I have become a mess because of this meta in this show. I have cried so much because of how much I care about this show, the characters are all fleshed out, are so powerfully written, and emotionally tugs at your heartstrings whilst still educating and representing LGBTQ community fantastically. I don't know what we did to deserve a show like this. Maybe its because after years of waiting for something to finally show up and just be unproblematic and be so great with no questions, no confusions, no struggle, this show is just that. And I will be forever thankful to the whole team that brought this to us
Ratings: 5/5 I would give this more than 5 if I could. That's how much this show means to me. 
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4. CHERRY MAGIC 
Genre/Themes: Romance, Comedy, Supernatural, Office drama, Slice of Life
Country: Japan
Verdict: Kurosawa and Adachi. That's it. That's the reason for the 5/5 stars when it comes to watching this show. First of all, I like Japanese romantic comedy shows, and anime, and manga. So seeing cherry magic come to life as this amazing form of that makes me so happy. Typically with Japanese BL, everything feels so serious sometimes, and then sometimes it feels too crazy and over the top. But Cherry Magic just feels like a warm hug when you watch it; you can't help your self but to smile and giggle at Adachi's adventures realising that he can read minds because he's a virgin at 30 years old. To add to that, he is given Kurosowa this incredible, amazing, wonderful non-toxic man who absolutely adores him and unconditionally is there for him. I just like what? Where do I get my own Kurosawa? Like it just feels so unfair haha. But really cherry magic is full of great acting, fantastic plot and unique as well. Every character is also written well, and all have interesting dynamics. We also have another side couple who is so funny and ridiculous but also just cute and heartwarming. I have a great time watching this show and the fact that it's ending on Christmas day? Already tells you what this show is, a gift and its a great one. 
Ratings: 5/5 I want my own Kurosawa. That's it. That's all I want Universe.
Shows Upcoming
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5. THARNTYPE 7 YEARS OF LOVE
Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy,  Mature, LGBTQ+ Representation, Internalised homophobia, Sequel
Country: Thailand
Verdict: This is a complicated show to gush about. First of all TharnType, the series in 2019 was one of my favourite shows that brought me back to this BL thing. I absolutely adore all the actors, and I also loved the storyline like I said before there's something about Mame's writing that I appreciate, I think most of her strengths is found in TharnType. Because of this, this sequel is one of my most anticipated show this year. However, I feel conflicted because I hate sequels. I hate couples having to go through the weird-ass, shallow, conflicts that just end up ruining the meaning of their previous show and leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth about the couple I once loved (Looking at you Together with me the next chapter still traumatised honestly). Enough of the negatives, Tharn and Type from the trailer looks like it's going to be a wild ride, I can even see the great chemistry that made me fall for MewGulf, and I'm so excited to see the new couples and characters. I also am so excited to see TECHNO again and laugh with him every Friday. We also know that the awaited wedding between our couple is also going to be in this show. And that's going to make me bawl like a baby. Let's hope we don't have too many toxic or troublesome storylines, let's hope we don't have too many breakups and fights (because that hurts so much seeing Mew cry) and let's hope we finally have a sequel that is better than its predecessor. 
Ratings: 4.5/5  This is how I feel about it, I don't think I can rate it as 5/5 because of all the worry and anxiety at what the storyline entails—still a great show to look forward to. 
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6. MANNER OF DEATH
Genre/Themes: Romance, Crime, Mature, Angst, Drama, Mystery, Thriller, Haters to Lovers
Country: Thailand
Verdict: Think about it. Why wouldn't this be number one on everyone's list of upcoming BLS? We have the return of one of the best actors in this genre MaxTul the actual godfathers of Thai BL; we have an incredible team here with a director that has won multiple awards, with a storyline that is unique to Thai BL, we're getting crime, detective, mystery BL with mature characters who are not in university? As if that's not enough, we also have a really incredible plotline about this forensic doctor who falls in love with someone who we are not sure if we should trust because he could be a murderer! Like oooh yes please, the drama, the angst, the thrill?? I'm ready for this; I am so prepared to give my whole heart and attention on this show. I want it to be so good, to defeat the shows of 2019 that came and took our hearts away, to be the best BL ever. It's so difficult not to raise my expectations when it comes to this show when I know we have a great cast, great chemistry, non-stiff acting, and just a really non-toxic author as well. I look forward to this so much. Only issue/question? Where is the trailer? Hello WETV, where is our teaser? Why don't we know the date for when this is coming out? I want it out now. But I'll try and be patient okay? 
Ratings: 5/5 I can't think of how this show won't be good. And that's really worrying. But for now, I'll keep my expectations high and wait.
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7. TONHON CHONTALEE 
Genre/Themes: Romance, Coming of Age, Angst, Comedy, Childhood friendship, GMMTV
Country: Thailand
Verdict: Podd and KHAOTHUNG, (my sun, my heart, my favourite person ever) Sorry just gushing over my two faves. GMMTV has shocked me this year with the announcement of this show. First of all, Khao gets to have a show where he's the main lead. I've been waiting for this, and I'm so proud and excited for him. Not only that obviously, but TonTonChontalee looks really good with a vibe of a  comedic spin to one of my favourite shows Theory of love. I am ready to see Podd act so stupid as Ton and at the same time sob when he finally realises that Chon is the one. I'm so ready to see Khao act his socks off, and the show looks so funny, so fun and just like the chemistry between two is definitely a winner. I cannot wait for this next Friday. And it also has Mike and Toptap! What's not to love? Seriously though I'm praying this is successful, and it helps both Podd and Khao to dominate GMMTV. Let's find out next Friday.
Ratings: 5/5 For Podd and Khaothung. Just worth the rating.
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8. GEN Y THE SERIES
Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, 2moons Fanfiction, Haters to Lovers
Country: Thailand
Verdict: First of all 2 MOONS Reunion! What?? Very shocked to see this show tbh one because it's like a direct copy of 2moons the series; the same cast, the weird alternations to the same name, the same kind of plot as well. Channel 3 has finally decided to invest in BLs,  one of the biggest companies in Thailand, so the budget is high, the actors are known and famous, the production is good. This is so exciting to see. Also, 2moons was one of my favourite past BLs the whole time it was airing, and I had a massive affinity for Kimmon and Copter, so it's great to see them play their characters again but with a better budget and now glow up and grown. Their acting seems to have improved, Kit and Ming's storyline being the main focus is also really lovely to see. I also love seeing Bas and the other actors from other Bl series (The Moment actors) and I'm excited to know more about the new cast as well. So yeh this show has a great potential to win my heart as well, and the competition is not easy at all. But with a great company behind them and an exciting premise, this can also be a winner. 
Ratings: 4/5 I'm intrigued by this show, and I look forward to seeing what it brings.
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November is such an exciting month for someone like me who just loves watching tv and analysing and just seeing romance bloom. These couples, stories and actors have a great potential to be the best things of 2020 so far, each of these shows holds evidence that they're worth paying attention to and honestly I've missed seeing Thai BLs that make me so excited so much. I've missed these actors, I've loved each and every one of them, and I can't wait to see them this month on my screen. What about you, guys? What do you look forward to? Who are your favourites? What are you worried about when it comes to these comebacks. Let's discuss.
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itsclydebitches · 3 years
Note
Yang forgetting Ironwood helped her so she willingly made the decision to rat him out to Robyn (which she then “forgot” to blame Ruby for the whole mess, and then “forgot” that to argue with Ren when he wanted them ALL to take responsibility) is one of the reasons you are most definitely right about the show just forgetting those civilians who got blasted off the rainbow road.
You know, RWBY's tendency to "forget" lots of different things aside, this list really emphasizes why canon!Yang (not fanon!Yang, still love her) has steadily become one of the least likable characters in the series for me. A summary of her major character beats would include:
Adores her "Super Mom" and is supposedly defined by both this loss and the need to help raise her little sister, but doesn't mention her again until Volume 8
Admits she has no reason to be a huntress other than liking adventure, but is never forced to confront this and figure out what she actually wants out of life, not even when the fate of the world is suddenly attached to her choices
Loses her arm and goes through a long arc to accept this new part of her, only to announce later that it's just "extra" and doesn't matter. This indifference includes ignoring the community she's now a part of/the disabled man who greatly assisted her, as well as the sudden disappearance of PTSD
Supposedly spends her entire life, since she was a toddler getting lost in the woods, searching for her biological mother only to decide that she only cares about her sister now
Listens to her biological mother anyway. She has no reason to trust her, claims to hate her, is outright told to question the information she's given... yet takes her perspective at face value, to the extent that she comes into Haven raring to accuse Ozpin
Demands "no more lies or secrets" from him even though, at this point, Ozpin has not lied or kept secrets from her. The transformation was Qrow's secret to divulge, along with his semblance
Appears to be grappling with Blake leaving at the end of Volume 3, but everything is fine once they're back together. Is mad that Blake expresses a desire to keep her save, but everything is (again) fine once they kill Adam. It's a dual issue of the story not acknowledging when Yang is being unfair (why does she get to go home to recover, but Blake doesn't?) while also just... not resolving these things
Is indifferently cruel to Oscar for a whole volume, from screaming in his face to only caring about Jaune after he attacked the kid
Is one of the most furious at Ozpin for keeping Salem's immortality a secret, but turns around and immediately helps keep that secret from Ironwood
Her justification for this is that they can't just trust people blindly anymore, but is the one to suggest that they blindly trust Robyn instead
Puts the blame for all this solely on Ruby's shoulders, ignoring her part in this mess and her continued promises to follow Ruby's lead, but then gets furious at Ren for expressing the same concerns
Tops off this question of trust by laughing along with everyone else at Emerald's speech despite being pretty much the only one to raise concerns an hour ago
Is told by her father that she relies too much on her semblance and puts both herself and others in danger by rushing headlong into situations. Volume 8 she revs up her semblance, rushes in, and "dies"
Is at the center of RWBY's one, presumed queer couple within the main cast, leading to numerous issues which complicate all of the above
Yang is... a mess, frankly. And not in a "She's a complex, multifaceted character" way, but a "The writers don't know what they're doing and it has severely hurt Yang's character" way. She comes across as a massive hypocrite, callous towards most everyone not in her small circle, yet is simultaneously trusting to the point of foolishness. We're supposed to believe that Yang is mistrustful of the established ally who gave her her arm, but is buddy-buddy with the woman who framed her and orchestrated the killing of the friend sitting beside her. We're supposed to believe that Yang has little knowledge, no emotional connection, and a healthy distrust of Raven, but believes all her lies anyway. We're supposed to believe that Yang is beginning to question whether it's a good idea to follow her little sister without question, but that she'll tell Ren he's just pushing everyone away when he agrees that things are indeed bad right now. A better written show might, for example, explore how Yang's instinctual desire to defend her sister is bumping up against her own concerns, but with what we've got, Yang is just a different character every couple scenes. She's constantly contradicting herself, changing for no reason, or staying static to the point where the audience is wondering what the point of previous arcs were, all of which makes her so frustrating to watch. I'll agree with Yang one episode, only for her to have done a complete 180 the next, with no acknowledgement of this change. Or she's spouting views that blatantly ignore everything else that's going on, making her appear to be in denial at best, but the story won't acknowledge that either, instead framing her as 100% correct. Far from being the emotionally rich character she once was, a young woman on the cusp of growing up - deciding what she wants in life, learning to reign in her temper, finding some independence from her sister, recovering from a trauma - Yang now is just... angry and hypocritical, at least when she's not with Blake. And that relationship continues to be marred by both the lack of a queer confirmation and the inconsistent way that the rest of Yang's character is handled. Yang just isn't a person I like anymore, even though it's obvious I'm supposed to. But I look at her actions and attitude across Volumes 6-8 and see someone who is impossible to get to know because she's changing her mind every ten minutes of screen time, leaving a string of confusing, hypocritical, and at times downright cruel decisions in her wake.
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Raise the Stakes, Part 9
Shorter bit this time! Anyone who watched Impact Slammiversary can predict what happens here.
Previous sections (including the original that spawned this multi=part monster) can be found in the Master List.
Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White
Word count: 1,362
Content advisory: nothing really, other than cursing. there's always cursing.
You’re determined to have coffee made by the time he wakes up but it feels like you’re bumping into everything and making the maximum noise possible. As soon as you got out of bed and grabbed the first shirt you found, which happens to be his shirt, your legs felt like they were only partially under your control. It’s not just that you’re physically off but that you’re emotionally off as well. You keep peeking back in the bedroom to make sure he’s still there.
When the coffee is ready, you pour two large mugs, pleased that you remember how he takes it, and pad back into the bedroom.
His eyes open just a crack and he gives a languid smile.
“Bringing me coffee and wearing my shirt? Are you trying to kill me?”
You laugh and put his mug down on the night table.
“Put them both down.”
You oblige and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you down on top of him. He plays with the hem of your shirt for a few seconds before speaking.
“Well this has never looked better.”
You can’t resist leaning in for a kiss, which he welcomes, running his fingers through your hair and holding your face close even when you separate.
“So how long are you supposed to be here before you go back to Japan?”
“As long as I want. I didn’t ask for an excursion, David, I quit. Gedo came up with this because he didn’t want to lose me and they need help over here.”
“You seriously quit,” he repeats incredulously. “That must have gone over well.”
“I guess they really liked me after all.”
“You know that’s not who I meant.” He gives you an insouciant look. “How did he take it?”
You push yourself back up to a sitting position because you want him to have a clear view of your face as you tell him. “No idea. I left him a note thanking him for the opportunities he’d given me and telling him that the time had come for me to move on to other things.”
“Damn. Didn’t even say it to his face.” He shakes his head a little. “Doesn’t sound like you’re over him.”
You’re surprised at the total lack of resentment in his voice, like he’s just pointing out something you might not have considered before.
“Fair enough,” you sigh. “I guess some things you just have to walk away from and deal with on your own time because it would just be too drawn-out and fucked up if you tried to do it while you were still in the thick of things. Not every situation gets closure.”
He smiles again, which surprises you and also makes you feel warm through your whole body.
“I like that,” he says softly, squeezing your hip. “Now you can get off me because I need coffee.”
It’s well into the afternoon by the time he heads back to his place and once he’s gone, you have to go for a long walk just to burn off some of the happy energy you’re feeling. By early evening, he calls.
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Thinking of ordering pizza.”
“Can I have some?”
“No. You can’t do a cheat meal the night before a big show.”
“Fine. I’ll sit here and eat cauliflower all night or something.”
“Sounds like I should keep an eye on you to make sure you’re not eating anything you shouldn’t.”
So it’s not long at all before you’re over at his place and the two of you are cooking dinner together, which largely consists of you retrieving ingredients, chopping vegetables and herbs, and letting him handle the actual cooking part. It seems like you’re both trying to stretch out this part, trying to have a longer conversation because it’s been a while since you’ve been able to do that, but it’s also very obvious from your body language that you’re itching to get your hands on each other. Eventually, it becomes impossible to hold back.
“You have bruises,” you giggle as the two of you recover your breath in his bed.
“Comes with the job.”
“Those aren’t from another wrestler.”
“Lucky for you people will think they were and won’t know you’re beating me when they aren’t around.”
“No, they’ll think they’re from training and that you’ve been working very hard the last couple of days.”
“Well, I’ve been getting good cardio in.”
You pull him close to you, laughing. You desperately want to find a way to ask if you get to go home with him tonight, after the show. Having spent the last two nights together, it’s not exactly like he should feel obliged to be with you again, especially not if he’s sore or wants to just hang out with the guys. But you love the idea of being able to celebrate with him, and the idea that he might want to share that moment with you.
In the end, you can’t come up with a way to broach the subject without making yourself feel exposed, and the two of you go from affectionately touching each other to being aroused once again, which takes your mind off things rather quickly. Still, you make sure that you at least repeat that you love him, in case he thinks that you were in any doubt.
*
It’s been a long time since you could just be a wrestling fan and be in an audience cheering and booing and laughing. Impact has made sure you have a great seat, right in front, where you can feel like you’re part of everything. You know a lot of people in the audience, they’re mostly friends and family who’ve been invited to serve as a stepping stone between an empty theatre and the return to live audiences. Even the small group, though, makes things feel exciting, so there you are, carrying on like a 12-year-old, losing yourself in the experience.
Of course, you pop especially loud when FinJuice make their surprise (to everyone else) return. Seeing him at a remove like this, where you’re not supposed to know him outside of his in-ring persona, gives you a little thrill. It’s like the fact that you know him is your secret. He does give you a little wink as he passes and you bite your lip reflexively.
The whole show is a lot of fun and builds to a great climax. You’ve been backstage for Kenny Omega matches before but you’ve never had the opportunity to just appreciate what a great worker he is. It’s so easy to get caught up in the story he tells and Callihan, tough bastard that he is, makes a perfect counterpoint. You can feel in the back of your mind that the company has one more surprise coming. They love this sort of thing, especially as a big closer and you can’t blame them. There’s something about the faces in the crowd that makes you think that everyone senses something in the air.
And, as the despicable winners raise their hands and preen in the ring, the room goes dark. There’s a deep silence that engulfs the room for a moment and then the sound of metal scraping on metal, a sound you know all too well. It cuts right through you, down to the bone.
No. It’s not possible.
The music kicks in, every note of it like an electrical shock. You can hear the voices rising from the nearby commentary booth. “Is he here?!?”
You give a silent prayer to whatever deity might be listening. Please don’t let this be happening.
The music continues to swell as Omega and his boys stand in the ring, perplexed and anxious, until finally a figure emerges at the top of the ramp, surveying everything around him with a sort of bemused contempt as he picks his way through the last match’s wreckage and down to the ring. He looks so good it’s like an insult.
Behind you, one of the commentator’s voices cries out “It’s Switchblade Jay White!”
And as soon as you hear that, your knees buckle and everything goes dark.
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I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Seven
Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕
Sooo..... How are we doing................ Also for this week, new character incoming, the person I was picturing when I wrote Eli Durling is Michael Ealy, in case y’all want someone to picture
Warnings: ….Angst again I know my bad again
Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact. 
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“Jett Reno, engineering.” Engineering, how was it I always wound up rooming with someone from engineering?
--
The problem was, with my separation from the Enterprise and the wounds of Somonia still fresh, I found myself desperate for connection where my life had been voided of it. 
Jett, Tilly-- I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact. 
-- “What brought you to Starfleet?” I could tell by the strained way Jett was asking that she didn’t do small talk for fun the way Tilly did. I’d been on the Hiawatha for a couple of days and we’d hardly talked when we’d been in our quarters together. Neither of us had pushed to fill the silence. But now, Jett was making the effort to… Chat. Maybe it was an attempt to stop my harried pacing in the cramped craft, but I could hardly keep still. My first official mission was set to begin in just a few minutes-- I was piloting a new federation attack fighter with an experimental cloaking device into Klingon airspace for the purposes of picking up subspace chatter. The Hiawatha would be in range as it ferried the first few war-wounded to Starbase 515. As soon as I collected what transmissions I could, I was to return to the ship, and then we’d jump to maximum warp -- barring any complications. “... My dad was an attaché to the Federation when I was growing up. I was brought to a lot of planets when he had custody. And when I was home there were a lot of different languages around me. I was just... curious.” Jett grunted. “What about you?” I asked. “I was always taking shit apart when I was a kid,” Jett leaned away from the control panel, “I had a teacher at school that steered me to circuit analysis. Kicked off from there.” She pulled off her gloves, turning back to me. “Good thing she jumped in when she did, I was electrocuting myself like, once a week. My mom was a doctor, said electrocuting yourself is frowned upon.” I smiled a little bit, “You know, I’ve heard that.” “Apparently everyone but me had.” “When you joined Starfleet...You ever think you’d be doing something like this?” “Helping a language nerd fly into enemy space? Can’t say it was in my top five. Did you think you’d be a pilot?” I shook my head, shoving my hands into my pockets, “No. I always liked flight sims, but steering was the furthest thing from my mind. I had this...Grand idea of going to new planets, building bridges between cultures… Not getting my ass bounced from ship to ship to ship and keeping my head down in the hopes I don’t wind up on Admiral Cornwell’s bad side…” I sighed, shrugging, “But we put our dreams away.” Jett’s brows were furrowed, and I could see the question she wanted to ask, but instead asked: “You got a plan after this?” “After the mission?” “After the war.” I was quiet for a moment, turning to survey the control panel. “... I think I’d rather focus on what I’m gonna do after the mission, not get too far ahead of myself.” Jett pursed her lips, nodding a little bit, looking around. “You oughta get off of this vessel if you don’t wanna join me for its maiden voyage,” I warned. Jett grunted, picking up her toolkit and heading for the ramp. “Try not to get blown up out there,” She said over her shoulder, “I did good work on this ship.” “I’ll do my damnedest,” I called back. 
-- 
It became routine for Jett and I to chat before missions - occasionally making plans for what we would do once I got back. My missions tended to vacillate between two types: either a transmission intercept, or a mission type that protocol labeled a 22-9-14. 22-9-14 operations consisted of approaching a Klingon craft, deploying a tracking and transmission device, and piloting the hell out of there before any Warbirds could catch wise. It didn’t always work of course --  which was why Eli and I started calling 22-9-14s ‘Tag and Runs’. Lieutenant Commander Eli Durling was a security officer stationed on the Hiawatha for the purpose of handling Communications-based missions. I’d known of him while I was at the Academy. He had been a couple of years ahead of me, and we had a few mutual friends, but as we'd been focused in different course tracks, I'd never had occasion to really interact with him until now. He’d graduated top of his class, and had been stationed on a ship in the Mempa sector until the war had broken out. 
Durling reminded me of Pike, a little. When he wasn’t focused on the mission at hand, he was fairly easygoing, lighthearted, and made it a point to follow orders - when those orders were the right course of action in a given situation. Eli wasn’t above changing course mid-mission when something took a bad turn, and he wasn’t afraid to go to bat for me with command for doing the same, either. He covered my back, and I covered his. 
--
“You should see the job Durling did to his phaser canons,” Jett half-yelled, half-grumbled from under the control panel. I eyed where her legs were in view, just beside my pilot’s seat. “Something tells me the job was done by a Klingon Warbird and not by Eli himself.” “Well if he hadn’t gotten spotted by a Warbird, they wouldn’t have chased him, fired at him, and fucked up his phaser canons.” “...You might have a point there.” “I’m wounded, lieutenant,” I heard from just behind me, and I turned to see Eli ducking his head to step onto the craft. “I really hope you mean emotionally," I teased. Eli’s lips twitched into a smile, and I returned it. It was moments like this that his attractiveness was...Really not lost on me. He was handsome, with golden, copper brown skin and gentle blue eyes. His smile, which was turned at me now, was typically kind -- a kind smile that could turn flirtatious or teasing at the drop of a hat. “I’m broken up inside,” Eli reassured me. “Mm, mhm,” I nodded, “What’s going on?” “I’ve got some news.” “Is it that you learned how to fix your phaser canons yourself?” Jett asked, sitting up from under the console. “Sadly, no.” “Sadly? That’s not sadly no, that’s morbidly depressingly no,” Jett grumbled as she took my hand to help her up, “You have any idea how long it’s gonna take me to fix those when you inevitably fuck them up again?” “Well, not long at all. The lieutenant and I are being transferred.” Jett and I let that sink in in silence as the three of us stood in silence. It felt like a punch - but Reno recovered faster than I did. “...Well, godspeed to whoever takes you over, Durling. You’re an engineer’s worst nightmare.” 
“I’ll miss you, too, Reno,” Eli chuckled before turning to me, “We’ll be shipping out once you get back, as long as everything is status quo.” “Got it.” “Be careful out there.” “Yessir.”
I watched Eli go before I lowered my eyes, making a careful study of my shoes. I’d been on the Hiawatha for two months now. It was only just starting to feel… Not like the Enterprise, but like a safe space again. “Well,” I said after a moment, “Least you’ll be getting your room back to yourself.” “Looks like it,” Jett agreed, “Don’t get all mushy on me, huh?” I shook my head, pushing back my upset and flattening my expression before meeting her eye: “I was about to ask the same of you.” Jett nodded. “Would’ve been nice if we could’ve seen this through together.” “Would’ve,” I agreed quietly. “But we put our dreams away,” Jett reached out, slapping me on the shoulder before picking up her toolkit, “Don’t get blown up at the last minute. It would be a hell of an anti-climax.” 
--
I scrolled through the contacts on my PADD stilling over Sidhu, Thira for a moment. The little status bubble beside her name read ‘Active’. Despite the fact that Eli and I were stationed together on the USS Pinnacle, and had been for months, I was antsy for news of the Enterprise. I’d reached out to Cornwell for an update on the crew, but I had yet to get an answer from her. I couldn’t blame her. She was entrenched in strategy, but I was desperate for news -- especially after the news of the Hiawatha’s loss had reached us nearly a week after Eli and I had been re-stationed. 
I scrolled further down on the contacts list, tapping on the contact name for Tilly, Sylvia. I eyed the ‘Active’ bubble beside her name before tapping on the small video icon. I lifted the PADD up to my face, grinning when Tilly came into view. “Hi!” She greeted, waving. “Hey there. How are you?” I asked, shifting back on my bed. “Oh…” I watched Tilly glance at her surroundings before she answered, “Lorca’s on the warpath.” “The literal warpath or the metaphorical one?” Tilly laughed before sighing, “Both.” I winched, “Sorry, Tills.” “It’s not all awful,” She shrugged, “I have a roommate again, actually. Michael Burnham.” My brows rose. I knew of Michael Burnham - her name was splashed across briefings in relation to the war and the Battle of the Binary Stars. But I’d known of her, first and foremost, through Spock. He’d never spoken of her in honeyed tones, mind, but I knew that he regarded her highly. What was all of this doing to Spock? I couldn’t imagine him having to reason himself through this with limited intel from the Federation at such a distance-- “Hello? Hel-- Hello? Did I cut out? Am I frozen? Are you frozen?” I was jolted from my reverie at Tilly’s waterfall of questions. “I’m sorry,” I smiled, “Got distracted-- How’s the roomie situation?” “Well she frowned about as much as you did when you got on board.” “I warmed up.” “So did she,” Tilly smiled, and I relaxed a little, folding my legs up under myself. “Glad to hear it.” I looked away from my PADD as the doors to my room opened. “Hey, Eli,” I greeted. I saw Tilly’s eyes widen, and I glanced down to see her smoothing her hair down hurriedly. “Eli, you remember Tilly,” I added as he crossed to my bed - I’d introduced them on a previous call. “Course I do,” He smiled, sitting down beside me and giving the screen a wave, “Nice to see you again, Sylvia.” I grinned as a flush as red as her hair well up on Tilly’s cheeks. “Hi,” She answered, matching Eli’s wave. Her gaze was directed away from the screen as an announcement that I couldn’t make out crackled on her end. “Ahh-- I have to go,” She said hurriedly, turning back to the screen, “I’m sorry!” “No, don’t worry about it,” I shook my head, “Be careful.” “You guys, too!” Tilly chirped before hanging up. I looked down at the screen as it winked off. I eyed the contact for Sidhu, Thira, one more time before swiping away from my contacts. Eli leaned back against the wall, shifting further back on my bed. “If you put your shoes on my bed, Durling--” “I know the rules, kid,” He chuckled. I rolled my eyes. He’d taken to calling me that weeks ago, and I couldn't get him to shake it. “What’s got you in here, anyway?” I asked, “New mission?” “Can’t sleep.” I frowned, glancing over at Eli before I turned back to my messages. I had a new message, but where the hell was it? It wasn’t from Cornwell, I’d already checked. “Something wrong?” I pressed. “Just one of those nights. Ever have one?” “Oh, all the--” I froze, damn near dropping my PADD at the sight of the unopened message. It was recent - minutes old. And it was from Una. “...You okay, kid?” Eli’s knee nudged mine, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the words ‘You’re on the Pinnacle?’.
“I-- I um… Yes. I have those nights all the time. Think I’m gonna have another one of those nights tonight.” Eli crowded closer, peering over my shoulder. “Bad news?” “I don’t know yet… Can you gimme a minute?” 
--
It had started with Paledore, apparently. He’d been looking for something I’d sent him a while ago, some verb conjugation that I'd worked on, and he’d noticed that my status was active. He’d figured that it had to be a fluke, and he’d gone about his business. But it had happened again and again, and he’d brought it up to Thaleh, who had brought it up to Spock. Spock had done some digging, located me in Starfleet's medical database at the Academy, and then in the ship’s records for the Pinnacle. He had brought that information to Una. Una, who was now staring at me through a video feed. Her face was carefully blank. I’d seen that look before -- I knew that she was making a concentrated effort to not give anything away. Una could be hard to read in the first place, but I may as well have been looking at a statue. My heart was thudding low in my chest, beating out a panicked, jittery tattoo that usually only accompanied the running of a 22-9-14 and a Klingon Warbird on my tail. “...So,” I started, “How’s the Pergamum?” “You’re alive.” I gave a small nod. “Yeah, they’re not trucking a corpse around on the Pinnacle for the sake of filling the new communications specialist minimum.” “You’ve been alive this entire time and you’re making jokes?” Una seethed. It chilled me through the screen and I lowered my eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know you’re upset--” “Upset?” She repeated with a scorning little laugh, “I have spent the last year watching the repercussions that your loss has had on this crew, on Pike-- and you’re making jokes.” Guilt spun through me and wobbled like a top. “Can I explain?” “I wish you would.” 
I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves before I told Una what had happened - all I could remember. Soivo, Somonia, Cornwell, my time on the Discovery and the Hiawatha. Una’s face remained unmoved throughout. My only indication that the screen hadn’t frozen was Una’s occasional shift in her seat. Once I’d finished my explanation, Una gave a small nod. “Well… That certainly lines up with the timeline that Spock put together.” I couldn’t help but smile a little at that, even as I ached at the mention. “Of course he put a timeline together,” I muttered, scrubbing my hand over my eyes. I sighed, quiet for a few moments. “How are you all?” I asked, “Will you tell me that?” “You don’t deserve that answer.” I clenched my jaw, hot tears prickling at my eyes as I felt my entire being want to fold in on itself. “Una, please understand--” The video feed cut, the message on the screen indicating that the call had been terminated from Una’s side. My fingers curled around the device, my chest racking with sobs as I curled forward. 
--
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I heard behind me, “What did that punching bag say to you?” I raised my hands to stop the bag from swinging back and hitting me before I turned back to see Eli. After Una’s abrupt end to our call, I had cried until I couldn’t anymore - until my sobs had been dry and my breathing had been hiccups. And then, when the hurt had still ebbed through me, when I saw that there were no transmissions waiting for translation or missions for me to run, I went to work the rest of my hurt out on a punching bag. “I’m not in the mood, Durling,” I cautioned quietly. My voice was hoarse from its rough use earlier, and my body and nerves were rung raw from the war, from losing Jett -- from my call with Una, and from the news that had hard followed - the Discovery had been destroyed. My last call with Tilly had been our last call. Eli took a couple of cautious steps closer to me, looking me over. “I can see that. Came to offer my assistance.” I arched a brow. “Assistance?” I repeated, “The bag over here offered the same thing and look where it’s wound up.” Eli smiled a little. “You’re gonna run yourself ragged like this,” he warned. I shook my head a bit, biting the inside of my cheek to staunch a fresh wave of tears. “I already have, Eli, I can’t--” I took in a deep, shuddering breath, “I can’t rest my head right now. That’s just a fact.” “Neither can I. Maybe we can help each other out with that.” “I’m not gonna ask you to help me.”  “Why not?” “You see the mood I’m in?” I nodded toward the bag, “At least one of us needs to be in a condition to fly.” “I think I can handle you.” I arched a brow. “Eli,” I warned softly. He took a step closer, warm blue eyes and kind smile pointed at me with all softness and sincerity. “Kid,” he murmured, “You don’t have to worry about being gentle with me.”  Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles ; @inmyowncorner  ; @tardis-23 ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​
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allweleftunspoken · 3 years
Text
a short human au kam oneshot ✨
I wrote this at like 3am a while ago so I apologize if it’s not the best lol
without further adooo here’s my shitty attempt at writing fanfic XD
— —————- ———
Keefe let out a dramatic sigh as he flopped back onto his bed. He tossed the book he was reading aside because if he had to read Shakespeare for one more second his brain might, quite literally, explode. He was bored and Tam was here, so he might as well move on from homework to annoying his best friend.
“Taaaaammmm” Keefe sighed, kicking Tam’s leg lightly, “Pay attention to meee.”
Tam looked up from his book and tilted his head, “Aren’t you old enough to entertain yourself?”
Keefe threw a pillow at him, but Tam caught it and threw it back, hitting Keefe in the face.
“Well that backfired.” Keefe mumbled while rubbing his face. Tam laughed and set his homework aside. He pulled a leg up to his chest and rested his head on Keefe’s knee,
“Sorry.”
“No you’re not.” Keefe said, ignoring the backflips his stomach was doing.
“You’re right, I’m not, that was hilarious.”
Keefe moved his knee causing Tam’s head to fall.
“Rude,” Tam said, glaring at him.
Keefe laughed, as Tam got off the bed and walked over to Keefe’s dresser. This was their relationship. They laughed and semi flirted but neither of them were brave enough to make the first move. He also didn’t even know if Tam w anted to make a move. Could he be imaging all the flirting? Maybe Tam was like this everyone.
He shook his head and returned his focus to Tam who was now messing with the bottle of black nail polish on the dresser.
“Can you do mine later?” He asked, “It would drive my parents crazy.”
Keefe got up and walked over to him,
“Yeah sure. It drives mine crazy too,” he said with a sad laugh.
Tam laughed too and set the bottle down.
It was safe to say their parents weren’t the best. They were horrible actually. Keefe couldn’t count how many times he’s come home from school to be the subject of his Father’s anger. Whether it was screaming, or throwing things, or the occasional trip to Keefe’s bedroom to destroy Keefe’s sketches, Keefe couldn’t do anything. His mom wasn’t much better. She just stood by and let it all happen, occasionally adding to his list of ‘things to hate myself for’. They fought all the time. He couldn’t remember a day where there wasn’t screaming of some sort. To top it all off they were homophobic. Keefe hated it. He hated it here. He knew Tam’s home life wasn’t much better either, and he hated that. He hated that Tam had to deal with this. No one should. They’d talked about it before, once they even cried because they were so tired of it. They’d talked about running away, but Tam said he couldn’t leave Linh. Keefe had said she could come with them but then Tam said that Linh would never want to leave Marella and Biana. So they decided to wait until they’re eighteen. Then they’d all leave together. They’d move as far away from them as possible and never look back. Keefe couldn’t wait.
He watched Tam pick up one of Keefe’s rings and fiddle with it. Keefe couldn’t take his eyes off him. The sun was about to set and the light was peeking through his window, casting a warm glow over the entire room. Tam looked like he was glowing. He looked beautiful. He always did. He’d never actually tell him that though. He wished he could..he wished he could tell him a lot of things.
Tam set down his ring and turned to Keefe, catching him staring, “What?”
Keefe blushed lightly, “N-nothing.”
“You were staring at me.”
“No-No I wasn’t-“ he stuttered.
Tam raised his eyebrow.
“Hey you knocked over my nail polish,” Keefe said, subtly changing the subject. He reached behind Tam to fix it, but then he looked down to find Tam staring up at him. Keefe’s stomach dropped. They stayed like that for a while, both of them staring at each other, and neither of them moving. It was almost as if they were scared to. Like moving might break the delicate trance that they seemed to be in.
At some point Keefe’s eyes moved down to Tam’s lips. He could’ve sworn Tam started move towards him then, but before he could know for sure a door slammed downstairs.
They both flinched at the noise and quickly leapt apart.
Seconds after the slam, the arguing started. The loud arguing that usually lasted for hours at a time, which could only mean one thing.
His parents were home.
Keefe scratched the back of his head,
”So....”
Tam shoved his hands in his pockets,
“So...I don’t have to be home for a couple of hours...wanna go get coffee or something?”
Keefe could’ve kissed him. He really wanted to actually.
He let out a big breath and whispered, “Yes please.”
Tam smiled, “Ok, just let me get my stuff.”
He started putting his books in his backpack while Keefe got a sweatshirt and pulled it on over his school uniform dress shirt. He grabbed another sweatshirt and turned to Tam,
“Wanna wear this?” When Tam started to get flustered he quickly clarified, “Its getting cold out, you might need it-“
Tam took it and quickly thanked him, and pulled it on over his uniform as well. He put on his backpack and started walking towards Keefe’s door before Keefe stopped him,
”Yeah no, we’re going out the fun way.”
It was also the way that avoided running into his parents downstairs cause he...really didn’t need that right now. He took Tam’s arm lightly and lead him over to the window,
”Oh come on.” Tam sighed.
“Where’s your sense of adventure Tammy boy?”
”I must have lost it somewhere.”
Keefe flicked his bangs, and then out the window they went.
—————————
“Ok but that was the best cookie ever, I can’t believe they just gave it to us for free.”
Tam said as they walked back to Keefe’s house from the coffee shop they ended up going to. The sun had set now and it was dusk. Keefe loved this time of day, when everything was still and quiet and beautiful.
Keefe laughed, “They probably gave it to us because I’m so attractive.”
Tam blinked, “That literally makes no sense whatsoever. “
Keefe smirked, “I don’t hear you disagreeing.”
Tam shoved him with his arm.
“You’re so annoying.”
”You love me.”
”That’s debatable.”
Keefe clutched his heart, “You’ve wounded me. I don’t know how I’ll ever emotionally recover from this.”
Tam rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile.
Keefe knew Tam loved him, platonically if not anything more. He wished it was more, since Keefe had been falling in love with him since the 8th grade. He could never say that though, since he still wasn’t sure how Tam felt. He might never be sure...
They walked for a few more minutes before stopping in front of Keefe’s house.
He looked at Tam and found him already staring at Keefe. He held his gaze and whispered, “Here we are.”
“Here we are.” Tam took a small step towards Keefe, “I should probably head home now...”
Keefe’s heart was in his throat. What was happening right now?
”Probably...”
Tam looked down at their hands and Keefe gathered all the courage he had and started slowly reaching towards Tam’s hand. Their fingers barely brushed before Tam intertwined them. Keefe couldn’t believe this was real. Was this real? If it was dream it was a hell of a good one. He’s liked this guy for years and now it finally happening-how was this happening-?
His voice was hoarse as he whispered, “You know we’re holding hands right now right?”
”Yeah I noticed.”
”And you’re...ok with that..?”
”I’m more then ok with it.” Tam’s grip on his hand tightened slightly, and Keefe almost passed out. No way this was happening. No way he was holding hands with dude he’s like since he was fourteen.
”Keefe..” Tam whispered, interrupting his thoughts.
”Yeah...?”
Tam took a small step towards Keefe, and moved his hands to his face, slowly moving it down to his. He paused, his voice so soft Keefe could barely hear it, “Can I....”
Keefe answered him by connecting their lips. The kiss was slow and everything he’d ever imagined it would be, and more. He never wanted it to end, but it did. They broke the kiss and Keefe leaned his forehead against Tam’s lightly.
“Did that actually just happen...” he whispered.
Tam laughed softly, “Yeah, it did...”
Tam then pulled Keefe into a hug, holding him so tight he thought he might break something. He didn’t mind one bit, and he held him back just as tight.
They stayed like that for a while before Tam whispered the words Keefe thought he’d only ever hear him say in his dreams.
”I like you Keefe. I have for a really long time..”
Keefe smiled bigger then he’d ever smiled in his entire life, “I like you too Tam..”
Tam leaned back from the hug to look at him, “Well I’d hope so since you just kissed me.”
Keefe laughed and after a few more minutes of talking (and maybe kissing) they said goodnight. Keefe watched Tam walk away and thought about what just happened. How did that just happen? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure as heck glad it did. Does this mean Tam was his boyfriend now? He’d work up the courage to ask him tomorrow. For now he went to bed and dreamed about a boy with silver bangs and soft hands.
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shig-a-shig-ah · 3 years
Note
So bestie I may or may not have binged Paper Skin tonight and wow 😭 bestie you’ve got me heart broken yet I’ve got fluffy feelings inside.
When he just appeared in the house I was like please I cannot bear this pain!! But then the smut was so delicious!! And then the ending OH MY GOD MOOT THE ENDING!! I’ll never emotionally recover from this fic but that’s okay bc that was a risk I was willing to pay for. Please mootie it’s been a long time since I’ve read smut that had my heart beating fast. It legitimately took my breathe away and I could see everything perfectly just from the words alone. It was like I was reading but also watching a tragic story on screen.
I just really loved this story and wanted to talk about how it made me feel after bc wow, this is definitely gonna be on my top fav fics list forever. Anyway thank you for writing that moot and thank you for letting me fall for Tomura all over again it made my night.
I hope you’re having a good day and taking care of yourself bestie <33 kiss kiss
🥺😭 PLEASE bestie, this is was the sweetest thing to wake up to. That fic has such a special place in my heart for so many reasons, and I’m so glad you liked it so much!! I think about those two a lot, especially after the war arc and with Tomura’s future being so ??? but I like to think someday they could be happy together.
Anyway tysm friend, I’ma be buzzing about this all day 🖤🖤🖤
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justimagineitblog · 4 years
Text
“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 8
A/N: OKAY YOU GUYS.... NEW CHARACTER ALERT..... 
INTRODUCING: Charlie Hunnam - he fit the idea for this character perfectly so I decided to use his face and name for this new character x
Also lotsss of jealous Michael !!!!!!!!! I loved writing this chapter, it was so entertaining to bring in a new character and throw a spanner in the works. I hope you enjoy it xxx
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“We’re going to a benefit event this weekend, for networking. They haven’t seen us show our faces for a long time, and I think it’s about time we do”
That’s what Tommy had announced yesterday at the meeting. Gina had clapped excitedly, exclaiming to Michael how she’d never been to an English ball before.
I, however, could not have been less enthusiastic. Up until now I have not had to deal much with Gina and Michael as a pair. Michael alone is already way to much for me to handle emotionally. Moments I’m around him are spent with a racing mind and heart as I try and figure out what he is thinking. And even in moments where we’re not around each other, my every thought is consumed by him. It has been two days since Michael and I shared that moment in the office, and I’m still recovering. I can still physically feel the pit in my stomach, and the way my stomach dropped when I saw the tears on Michael’s face. I replay it on a continuous loop. And the last thing he said to me has had me completely torn up in an internal battle. He had said he wanted this. And I can’t stop obsessing over whether the use of past tense means that this is not what Michael wants anymore. That he wanted Gina. He wanted to marry her. He wanted me to keep away from him. But maybe he isn’t so sure anymore?
But hey, it’s not like I’m ever going to ask him what the hell he is thinking. What he is doing. What happened. Does he regret it? I could never ask him. Because maybe Michael will never wake up to himself. And there is no way in hell I’m letting my heart get broken twice.  As for Michael, he has barely even looked at me since. Talk about whose avoiding who now. Michael is pretty much doing my job for me. Dipping out of every room quickly when I walk in. Looking at the floor or practically anywhere but at me when we have to be around each other.
Right now I’m stood here trying on 6 different dresses to wear to the races today, growing even more frustrated at how none of them are just right.
I haven’t dressed up in a long time. I was even slightly excited at the idea. But now I just feel defeated. I used to love putting on my best dress and watching Michael melt. The look on his face when he would see me. The way he would whisper to me, letting me know I wouldn’t have the dress on for much longer once we got home.
But no one is looking now.
Sighing, I settle on a floor length, yellow gown. I haven’t worn it yet. I slip into it, feeling out of place and worthless. Funny how everything looked better when it was under Michael’s gaze.
Now I’m just a girl in a yellow dress.
I rush through the rest of my makeup and hair, hurrying out of my apartment just in time for the car that the Shelby’s organised for me. The whole car ride I clutch my purse nervously. I can only imagine Gina will look stunning. And I will have to watch Michael look at her the way he used to look at me. As I see the event grow closer in the horizon, I want to hijack the vehicle and go home. Desperately. But at least Polly, Tommy and Arthur will be there. I can’t let them down. This is important for my job. I need to make moves and network with people.
That’s all I have to do. Just keep my head down and do my job.
I feel completely out of my body as I slide out of the car, expecting my legs to give way underneath me. I head up the steps to the entrance where they will ask for my name and who I’m with. Normally I would show up with Michael and no questions would be asked. We would get a respectful nod from the doorman and be let in without questions asked. I almost wish that I might just fall down the steps and straight into a black hole where I don’t have to go ahead with this. But now it’s too late. I’m greeted at the door by tall men who could do a lot of damage and a woman with a clipboard.
“Isabelle. I’m on the Shelby Limited table” I say abruptly, completely ignoring her warm welcome. I don’t mean to, but my mind is completely in a foggy haze. As she runs her finger down the paper to check I’m on list, I search the room full of people behind the security guards. No signs of Michael or Gina. Yet.
“Not a problem, go ahead ma’am” she nods as the security guards separate for me to walk through. I stare at the busy room ahead like a deer in headlights, composing myself before I set foot inside. Wearing my best fake smile I begin weaving my way through the crowd. I search desperately for the Shelby’s in every face I see with no luck. Knowing my fortune, I’ll probably run straight into Michael and Gina.
But maybe tonight the lucky stars are on my side. As I reach the top of the stair well that will lead into the heart of the party, I scan the room once more. This time, my eyes land on Tommy, Polly and Arthur. With a sigh of relief, I practically fly down the stairs. Not even caring if I trip and fall. I just need to get to my people. Where I feel safe. Tommy spots me, and soon after Polly and Arthur do too.
As I finally reach them I pull her into my arms for a much needed hug. I’m already on edge and I’ve only just arrived. Tonight is going to be fun… When we let go, she holds me out in front of her, looking me up and down.
“Good god girl” she exclaims, shaking her head.
“Do I look okay?”
“Are you fucking joking, you look stunning”
Her compliment steady’s my nerves a little, and before I know it Tommy is reaching out to me. I take his hand and he pulls me in, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“You look beautiful Izzy” he coos, his eyes are warm and genuine “And don’t forget to breathe, eh” He chuckles as he notices my energy. I’m nervous wreck and just about anyone could tell. Right now I feel like a slight breeze could knock me off my feet.
I exhale slowly, nodding at him. No one calms me like Tommy can. He is always so strong. Calm. Steady. Sure of himself. And that rubs of on me every time.
He gives me a quick reassuring wink like he always does, as Arthur butts into the conversation.
“Fucking hell eh,” his rough voice booms as pulls me in for a hug like Arthur always does “Wait till Michael gets a load of this-“
Polly swats at him immediately, hitting his arm with her hang bag.
“Well we won’t have to wait long for that now will we-“ Tommy retorts in a hushed voice as his eyes lock on someone in the distance.
Simultaneously, we all look over our shoulders to see Michael and Gina headed our way. A giant pit begins to hollow out in my stomach immediately at the sight of them. They haven’t noticed us yet as they walk with their arms linked, laughing and talking with each other.
Almost as if it was perfect timing, a waiter greets us, offering glasses of wine. Without thinking I reaching for one, throwing it back faster than I probably should. I can feel Polly’s look of concern as she watches me skull the drink.
“Hello everyone” I hear Gina’s obnoxious accent greet us as her and Michael finally meet up with us.
Mustering up whatever small amount of liquid courage the wine gave me, I place my empty glass down on the table and turn to face them with tight lipped smile.
The second Gina’s eyes fall over me, she transforms from a smiling trophy wife to a stone cold statue. They lock onto me like lasers before raking up and down my body, the same way they did on the first day we met. When her eyes finally meet mine again, she looks absolutely livid. Fuming. I’ve seen that same look on her before.
Possessively, she tightens her grip on Michael’s arm. Michael. I hadn’t even dared to look at him yet. But just like always it doesn’t take long for our darting eyes to meet. When they do, I find that he looks speechless. Frozen. His lips are parted in what I can only assume is shock. As he stares at me, at my body, he looks… breathless. Which is probably exactly how I look right now. I feel wildly uncomfortable, my heart rate picking up it’s pace as he gazes at me without blinking.
Tommy, Arthur and Polly quickly begin talking to ease the tension. They begin complimenting Gina on how lovely she looks. She’s dressed in a tight, silver gown, with her signature fur shawl drapes over her shoulders.
“It’s vintage” Gina smiles proudly, before turning her attention back to Michael. But the smile from her ego being stroked is quickly slapped of her face when she she’s how Michael is staring at me. Her head snaps towards him, looking completely offended that he’s even looking at me. She stares at her husband in bewilderment, but then her head rotates towards me. She clears her throat, which startles Michael. His eyes quickly dart away from my body, his neck growing red under his collar.
“Yellow…” Gina begins raising her eyebrows at me “How sweet, you look… bright”
She knows exactly what she’s doing. Her voice is so condescending its basically dripping with it. And her sweet smile is anything but sweet. It’s vicious. Forced. Tight lipped.
I want to bite back. I want to tell her how much that fur shawl she thinks makes her look expensive actually just looks like something she killed and skinned herself.
But I don’t. This woman has taken everything from me. I won’t let her take my pride. My dignity.
I take slow, calming deep breath before responding to her attempt at offending me with a cool smile. Underneath my skin she might have me boiling with rage. But I would never show her that.
“You look stunning Gina”
Her brows furrow ever so slightly as she fights to control the shock on her face. I caught her off guard. She expected me to strike back. To make a fool of myself. But I won’t let her have that satisfaction.
Then without quite knowing why, I turn to Michael, who looks like he’s about to have a heart attack when I lock my eyes onto his. I can see his stomach doing back flips as he waits in anticipation for what I’m about to say.
“And you have a beautiful wife, you must be so lucky”
And with one last smile, I excuse myself from the group and walk away. I try to walk with a strong stride, as if I’m sure of where I’m going. But I’m not. I’m just walking in any direction that will take me away from them, weaving through strangers as the adrenaline leaves my body. I’m not trying to leave, but I need to catch my breath for a second.
I need fresh air… and another drink.
Somehow, I manage to find my way to a back court yard, full off people smoking to relieve their stress. I’m not a smoker, but it’s still fresh air. And hell, at least I’m not the only one trying to escape the party. I don’t know why they bother coming out here, people are lighting up cigarettes inside anyway.
I find an empty chair to sit in, and I’m relieved to be able to stop for a second and gather myself. I can’t believe Gina. That woman is vile. Vicious. Poisonous. A snake dressed up in vintage dresses. Michael staring at me like he’s just seen a ghost.
My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a mans voice, asking if he can take a seat. I look up in the direction of the voice and find myself stunned. He is tall, much taller than me even though I’m sitting I can still see that he towers over me. He greets my shock with a warm smile. He seem’s nice enough.
“Uh, yes, of course” I quickly reply, realising I’m just staring like a someone who doesn’t know how to act in social situations.
“Sorry, for frightening you” he smiles sheepishly as he takes a seat. God, am I that easy to read.
“No, it’s fine, honestly, I was just thinking” I shake my head
“Thinking is good” he smirks, then extends a slender hand towards me “I’m Charlie”
“Isabelle” I introduce myself, feeling oddly comfortable around this man. I take his hand in mine and shake it gently.
“I’ll let you continue thinking?” He asks, suddenly looking guilty for interrupting my solitude.
“No please,” I shake my head, urging him to continue talking “That’s the last thing I want to be doing”
“Noted” he grins back “What brings you here, Isabelle”
“To this court yard or to this ball?” I tease, surprised at my own playfulness.
“Let’s start with the ball first then”
“To the ball… Work”
“And to this luxurious court yard?” He jokes, gesturing to our slightly run down surroundings.
I pause for a moment. What do I say? That I just ran away from my ex partner and his new wife? That I’m hiding from them to avoid the suffocating tension between us? Because I think he still loves me but he won’t just admit it?
“The fresh air” I retort sarcastically.
He watches me closely, the glint of a smile in his eyes as the corners of his mouth curl up. He nods, accepting that he’s not going to get anymore out of me than that. But I feel bad. Normally I’m an open book. I love people. But my situation with Michael is far to complex even me to understand, let alone explain to a stranger. Feeling guilty for not giving him much of a decent conversation, I turn to face him directly.
“What about you, Charlie?”
He hums, looking up as he thinks “To the court yard or the ball?”
I can’t help but grin at his quick wit, as he gives me a dose of my own medicine. But clearly only jokingly teasing me, he continues to answer my question.
“Here to support my brother, he runs one of the charities being honoured tonight”
I smile. This man. Charlie. He is sweet.
“To the court yard, however, I have also come to get fresh air. These kinds of events aren’t really my thing”
“You and me both” I nod “Not that we’re getting much fresh air anyway”
He laughs softly, nodding along with me in agreement.
“Do you drink, Isabelle?” He questions
“Only on days that end with Y” I smirk, answering his question.
He beams back at me, seeming almost like he’s not used to this.
“You know I’m thinking a drink at the bar might do us better than this lovely fresh air”
I cock my head to the side, watching him closely. I don’t know this man. Not well, anyway. This isn’t the type of networking I was planning on doing. But when was the last time I did something for me? Michael does. Michael puts his needs first every day. And the longer I look at this man, the longer I realise how absolutely stunning he is. And yeah, maybe I want to have a goddamn drink with him. I stand up from my chair and he quickly follows my lead with a grin. Without a word, he extends his arm to me and I take it, defying every part of me that feels weird hiding any mans arm that isn’t Michael’s. I’m doing this for me.
What ensues is a half hour of drinking at the bar, where we learn more about each other. Every time he opens his mouth I’m taken aback by how funny, intelligent and sweet this man is. He meets every joke of mine with an even better one. His quick wit keeping up with mine like it’s nothing. He says the right thing. The nice thing. The funny thing. His laugh is divine, and I begin to notice his deeply set smile lines and subtle dimples. Everything about Charlie is new. Exciting. I’ve been so fixated, so used to Michael for so long that I find myself in awe of the man in front of me.
I almost forget we are even at an event until a voice booms into the air over a loud and screeching microphone. The voice asks us all to returns to our seats for dinner, before the event properly begins.
“What table are you at?”
“I’m not sure, actually” I reply as I quickly realise I’m not sure where the Shelby’s are seated. Suddenly I see Polly’s face appear in the crowd. She hasn’t spotted me yet, but I can tell she is looking for me. Shit. Panic sets in. I know Polly wouldn’t be mad at me for having drinks with another man. In fact I’m sure she’d encourage it. But I’m not ready. I’m not ready to have her see me with another man. Very quickly, I begin to feel horrible about this. Maybe I shouldn’t be getting drinks with another man. God what am I doing?
“You alright?” I hear Charlie ask and I look back at him nervously.
“Uh, yeah I, I just think I need to-“ my sentence is interrupted by panic as Polly is getting closer and closer.
“It’s alright, you should get back” He reassures me. I look up at him with furrowed brows and nods in understanding, but his smile looks sad. God I feel terrible. But I can’t stay.
“I’m sorry” I apologise in a rush as I hurry away from him, desperate to get back to the table without being seen by Polly.
To my relief, I manage to stalk my way around the crowd and avoid Polly. But once I feel like I breathe a sigh of relief, I’m smacked in the face with another wave of panic. Now I have to sit with Gina and Michael at dinner. I hurry up to our table once I spot it, and slide into my seat so quickly only Tommy notices me sit down. Noticing I’m out of breath he furrows his brows at me.
“Did you run here or something?” he laughs nudging me playfully with his shoulder. I scoff. I practically did, yeah.
“Oh, there you are!” Polly’s voice exclaims suddenly, drawing attention to me. Gina and Michael’s heads both shoot over my way, and it doesn’t take long to get served a disgusted look from Gina. But right now Gina and her bitch face is on the bottom of my worry list. I’m just relieved that I made it back to the table without Polly seeing me with Charlie. Oh god. I cringe remembering how I left him in the lurch at the bar. I all but ran away from the guy while he was half way through a sentence.
Suddenly waiters start appearing from the kitchen doors, serving the dinner to all the guests. Desperate to have something to distract me, I busy myself with the food and try to centre myself again. I let the chatter of the party fall into the background as I zone out, my mind travelling back to Charlie. I made a complete fool of myself. He was perfectly nice. More than nice. He was completely charming. Why did I just run away from him like that. At one point, I happen to catch eyes with Michael, who seems to already be looking at me. His eyes dart away from me quickly trying to pretend like I didn’t catch him looking. But I don’t even bother entertaining him for that right now. This awkward staring game he is playing is getting very old, very fast.
Does he expect me to read his goddamn mind?
Before I know it, dinner is over, and the afternoons festivities begin. The host drones on for many long, painful minutes, most of the time bragging about their generosity towards the charities here tonight. I try not to laugh. Doesn’t the boasting kind of defeat the purpose of the philanthropy? As he finally wraps up his self centred speech I assumed that might all just go back to mingling and forcing small talk with all these strangers, but no. As the band begins to play music once more, the host announces that the ball room floor has opened.
Gina exclaims excitedly at Michael as couples all over the room begin to stand and make their way to the dance floor in the middle of the room.
You’ve got to be kidding me. I look up at the ceiling and to the heavens above. Someone up there really has it out for me.
I watch as Michael forces a smile at Gina as she tugs on his coat, begging him to dance.
“Dance with me baby?” She pouts, sounding like a whining child. I bite the inside of my lip, trying not to scoff out loud. Michael hates being called baby. When we were together, he used to love the way I called him ‘my love’. He had insisted that he could never imagine being called by any other name. Joking that he would change his name legally so I couldn’t call him anything but ‘my love’.
Reluctantly, he places his napkin on the table and helps Gina up out of her chair.
“Excuse us, I have to dance with my husband” she says to the table as she hangs of Michael’s arm, but I know she’s directing that comment directly at me. Everyone nods, excusing them from the table. I try to wipe the look of hurt, jealousy and anger of my face as I watch them join the rest of the dancing couples.
“Thought you might need this” Arthur’s voice says in my ear as he sits down next to me, sliding a glass of wine in my direction.
“What would make you think that?” I reply sarcastically, but give him a grateful smile. For the next few songs I watch them pensively over the top of the rim of my glass. Gina is beaming up at Michael. Clutching onto him possessively every time another woman gets to close. Michael doesn’t look totally miserable either. He even looks like he’s enjoying himself for a few fleeting moments. Of course he is. He’s married. His wife is beautiful. She adores him. What more could he want, right?
After the 3rd song finishes they leave the dance floor and begin to return to the table. I force my eyes down to the ground, to make out like I haven’t just been staring at them for the past 15 minutes.
They only just reach the table, taking their seats, when a males voice says my name from beside us.
In shock at hearing my name, I look up in its direction. My eyes meet with a pair of familiar blue eyes and a gentle smile.
Charlie.
“Would you like to dance with me?” He proposes, extending his arm to me. When he see’s my hesitance he gives me a deep, knowing look. Like he’s been watching this all unfold and he has come to whisk me away. To save me. I should feel embarrassed. Awkward. Another man offering to dance with me when Michael is right there should feel weird. But instead I just feel… butterflies. The good kind. I want to let myself do this. Why not. I don’t have anyone to be loyal to. I have been loyal to Michael since day one. He hasn’t returned that. I don’t owe him a goddamn thing.
Without a word I take his hand, rising from my seat. His face lights up, and he gives me a smile that looks… proud. He squeezes my hand once, before linking my arm with his.
“Thank you” he nods at the Shelby’s respectfully with a small bow “I’ll have her back soon”
I glance over at all their faces as we walk away. Tommy and Arthur watch on like protective brothers, and Polly has a proud smile on her face. She loves her son, but I know she’s thinking how much he deserves to have this rubbed in his face. Speaking of Michael, the look on his face is priceless. He looks hot and angry, his face distorted and twisted half between fury and… hurt.
But I don’t have much time to look at Michael, not while Charlie is leading me through the dance floor until we find a clear spot to stand. He smirks as we face each other. He places one large, slender hand on my waist while the other interlocks with mine. I take a deep breath to steady myself. Another mans touch is so unfamiliar to me. He watches me carefully, reading me like a book. Sensing my nerves, he very slowly and gently pulls me closer to him. Not to fast. But not to slow. How the hell does he know how to do the right thing every time?
Feeling how calm and steady he is has the same effect on me, and I feel my rushing mind and racing heart begin to slow.
“Hi again” he coos softly, smiling down at me.
“Hi” I reply, unable to help the grin that is growing wider and wider on my own face. I follow his lead as we begin to sway along to the slow jazz music that is playing in the background. I frown slightly, still feeling guilty about leaving him.
“I’m so sorry about before” I apologise looking up at him sheepishly.
“Don’t be” He shakes his head, dismissing my concern “Just don’t run off from me while we’re in the middle of the dance floor yea, might not recover from that one” he teases. We both chuckle.
“I’m not going anywhere” I assure him
“That’s fine by me” he bites his lip as we find ourselves getting even closer to one another until we’re pressed right up against one another. As we share a moment just gazing at one another, I can’t help but wonder he came just at the right time. Who the hell sent this man?
Suddenly turns us around in a circle, holding me tight as we spin. Catching me off guard, he lowers me down into a dip. His strong hand supports my back, and my head falls back as I laugh gleefully. When he brings me back up, our faces are so close that our noses are touching. I half expect him to kiss me, to take advantage of this moment. But he doesn’t. He remains a perfect gentleman. I’m completely caught up in him, caught up in our own little bubble when it is burst by the sight of Michael over Charlie’s shoulder.
He is standing with the Shelby’s and Gina, as they’re mingling and chatting with another family. But he’s not paying attention to them. He is glaring at Charlie and I over the top of his drink. He throws it back angrily, before all but slamming it down on the table. I can see his chest rising and falling heavily from here. Michael isn’t even trying to hide his jealously. I can’t believe the audacity of Michael. It’s almost laughable.
“You good?” Charlie asks with concern, noticing that I’m distracted. He also notices Michael as he looks between us. I think for a moment, and funnily enough, I am good. I’m good. Right now, with Charlie, I feel untouchable.
“I’m wonderful” I nod and he smiles with relief.
“Yeah,” he breathes “You are”
As the next song picks up in pace, he dances me around the floor. He spins me, twirling me around, but catches me again every time. We laugh with each other, enjoying getting completely wrapped up in the moment. I completely forget about Michael. In fact, I completely forget anyone else is even in the room until the final song comes to an end.
We linger for a moment, still enamoured with each other while most people begin to leave the dance floor. I feel almost high of the chemistry between us. The host announces that the final song also marks the ending of the evening. He is the first to break our bubble as he begins to let go of me slowly, his hand lingering on my waist before he finally lets go.
“Alright, I think I’ve stolen you for long enough” he chuckles, breaking the tension between us “You can run now if you like”
“I might be to out of breath for that” I retort with a laugh “Where did you learn to dance like that?”
“I was just saving my best moves for you”
“Thank you, for…” I begin, but I can’t finish my sentence. Thank you for the dance, yes. But how do I thank him for saving my from a night of torture at the table with Michael and Gina.
“Trust me, the pleasure has been all mine”
“I haven’t had that much fun in a long time”
“Well that makes two of us”
Theres a long, long moment between us. I may not have done this in a while but I still know what happens next. That’s when my nerves begin to return slowly but surely. Can I do this? He is wonderful. Everything about him is wonderful. And the chemistry is palpable. But am I ready for this?
Sensing that I’m uncomfortable, he bows slightly. “I’ll let you get back. It’s been lovely meeting you, Isabelle” he smiles down at me.
I watch as he turns, almost about to walk away when something comes over me. I quickly reach for his coat pulling him back to me.
“Wait,” I say desperately as he steps closer to me “Come home with me”
PREVIOUS CHAPTERS 
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
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atlascas · 3 years
Text
DEANCAS FIC REC
(last updated 7/1)
FINALLY. this is like. just a place for me to rec and write excessively abt the fics i've been reading lately. it won't be organized but it WILL be very earnest and i'll keep it updated as i find/remember more. also i have obnoxiously high standards when it comes to fic so these ARE the cream of the crop, if u will. the god tier. the s tier. 
very loosely organized into "newer fic" and "classics." these are subjective categories. do what you will
✨ = new fic on the list
💖 = in my brain rent free!
CURRENTLY READING
these are the fics that i’m currently reading! may or may not get recced. usually i read the first couple paragraphs/lines and if i like the writing it gets bookmarked and put on this list.
lazarus needs a robe of scarlet thread by herrosesneverfall, 90k, canonverse au. dean starts getting stigmata. when i was getting back into spn there were a LOT of religious fics flying around bc that was the Hot Topic of Discussion. this was one of them
Three weeks ago, Dean woke up in a pine box. He thought dealing with the nightmares was going to be the most difficult part of his new life after Hell, but at least they were something he could understand. Something he could deal with. Something he deserved.
Then he began having agonizing visions of crucifixion. Wounds appeared on his body out of nowhere. Wounds that refused to heal and coated his skin with the sickly sweet smell of roses.
Stigmata are said to be the marks of saints, but Dean is not a saint and the wounds are only the beginning.
kingdom come by ahurston, 8.7k, coda to 15x18. cas gets to go home. im gathering all the s15 fix-its to my heart and holding them close
Cas wakes up on the coast of Maine. He makes his way home.
hunger by ellispark, 10.8k, s13 au. dean grieves cas, post s12 finale. perfect writing perfect awful heartwrenching characterization so far on dean’s end especially towards jack. nuanced emotional writing
Dean takes his meal and throws it away, plate and all. He's not hungry. How can he even begin to eat, knowing what he kept from Cas — what he kept from both of them?
They could have had something, and now all Dean has is this gaping, empty hole in his stomach, in his chest, and he has to learn to breathe and eat and move around it.
the law of equivalent exchange by awed_frog, 60.8k, canonverse. cas loving dean in all permutations of humanity, throughout time.
“And what’s the point of it?”
“Of love? There isn’t one. Loving is its own purpose.”
NEWER FIC
“newer” just means “i discovered it in 2020/2021 after coming back to spn fandom” so it very well could have been published before 2015 but really who’s checking. not me that’s for sure.
💖 so says the sword by komodobits, 85k, s4 au. cas guards the michael sword in the beautiful room. this is easily the MOST obvious rec on this entire list but it was the first fic i read when i got back into spn this year and jesus christ it set the bar sky fucking high. the way they create a coherent mythology out of the mess that is spn canon is incredible.
The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’
Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.
assimilation by komodobits, 5.6k, coda to 12x01. mary meets dean and cas and they go to find sam. such good character studies of all three of them. the best mary pov fic i’ve read
Mary always thought you were supposed to be able to tell. That you could just look at someone and know they were – you know. One of that sort. It’s not supposed to happen to her son.
cuckoo and nest by komodobits, 10k, ambiguously canonverse. dean and cas navigate relationship anxiety. cute, in character, and their relationship is realistic and the conflict well-written and emotionally nuanced and really really really good. 
For a long time, Castiel thought that every earthly possession other than the immediately necessary was excess to requirement. But Dean – Dean who named his car, who keeps a photograph of his mother in his wallet, some thirty-plus years after her death, who still has the crumpled ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign with a sleeping pelican emblazoned on it from the Microtel outside of Roanoke where he first kissed Castiel, clumsy and unsure, under the unsteady fluorescence of an exhausted bathroom bulb – is sentimental.
It puzzles Castiel, where Dean draws the line between what is meaningful and what it is worthless.
💖 one white lie by komodobits, 11k, au. cas panics when trying to ask dean out and has to fake being a jehovah’s witness. it’s adorable and hilarious and it’s been ages since i actually got butterflies at a kiss in a fic but this did it. it did it. it felt like someone swaddled my soul in a cashmere blanket and kissed me on the forehead
Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.
He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”
a crash course in someone else’s history by annie d (scaramouche), 11.5k, set during s6. cas comes to as his s4 self without any memories of the past two years and has to figure out what the fuck is going on. it’s kind of like so says the sword. you’ll know it when you get to it.
Castiel is captured inside a trapping circle of holy oil set by Dean and Sam Winchester. The brothers call him "Cas", claiming that he has amnesia and that he is obligated to help them take down Crowley to atone for his betrayal of them. It's the strangest story Castiel's ever heard, and one he doesn't have time for because he's only just raised Dean from Hell and has work to get back to.
💖 cas and dean’s adventures in gardening by ahurston, 19k, post-canon au. a series featuring dean and cas living in the bunker, human. cas is very into plants. i read this yesterday actually and it made me smile SO much it’s just so lovely and sweet. i’m also a sucker for any fic where cas has a garden. he deserves a fucking garden okay
In this post-God world, everything is different. A little quieter, a little softer. Cas grows a garden, Dean cooks, and they take care of each other.
tall grass by aeli_kindara, 57k, post-s12. dean and cas live in the bunker on their own, and cas grows a garden. i did say i love fics where cas has a garden. plus domesticity, plus some good case fic, PLUS dean and cas’ relationship is so gentle and good
“I think we should have a garden,” Cas says.
Dean looks up from his beer. He hasn’t had that much to drink, but Cas still has a vague look of unreality about him, a splash of living color that doesn’t fit in the bunker’s echoing stillness. Dean didn’t hear him coming. A lot of the time, Cas is so unobtrusive it feels like Dean has the bunker to himself, with Sam away.
Dean shakes his head to clear it. “A — garden?” he repeats.
in a week by renrub, 2.3k, post 15x18. cas is in the empty. dean saves him. this is genuinely the best “dean pulls cas out of the empty” fic i’ve read so far like conceptually this entire thing just fucks. when cas is cycling through the barn scene. god. SO well written
Castiel is outside a barn covered in sigils. He frowns. This isn’t right. This has never been something he repented for.
i won’t even wish for snow by annie d (scaramouche), 5.6k, college au. cas goes to the winchesters’ for christmas. honestly scaramouche fics belong in the classics section bc she’s like an og deancas writer but whatever. mistletoe! banter! good in-character au! this fic’s got it all
It’s the third year that Castiel’s spending Christmas with his best friend’s family, and he expects it to be much like the previous two. Then mistletoe happens.
convenient husbands by annie d (scaramouche), 39k, canonverse au. cas is a phoenix, dean is a hunter. they get married and have a sick psychic bond. unexpectedly fluffy considering how the fic starts and i love the banter so much and dean/cas’ relationship gets fleshed out and organically developed it’s very cute
"It's only temporary, right?" Dean says. "Just until you're healed up, and then we'll never have to see each other again. So what do you say, Castiel, do you want to marry me or not?"
cinderwings by bendingsignpost, 181k, cinderella au. cas goes to a masquerade ball to save his people from an eternity trapped in a void. he meets prince dean. i can’t tell u how much this fic drew me in - thru good worldbuilding, but mostly thru cas’ social awkwardness. like it works PERFECTLY to his advantage in this fic and reading how expertly he manipulates social situations w/o any fucking idea what he’s doing is both hilarious and inspiring
Under the cover of a masquerade ball, Castiel has five nights to recover the key to his people's freedom. The world has changed greatly in the six centuries since their banishment into the void, but the task isn't impossible. Unfortunately for Castiel, this is going to involve talking to people - especially the Knight Prince who has taken an interest in Castiel and his "costume" wings.
as the crow flies by bendingsignpost, 3.4k, au. dean and cas go on a roadtrip. cas has wings! it’s so dreamlike and meandering and the slowburn is so good. honestly it reminds me of stevebucky/stevesam post tws era roadtrip fics if ur hip LMAO
Cross country road trips with Cas are the best.
long-term relationship by bendingsignpost, 2.7k, au. dean and cas have a Serious Conversation about their relationship.
Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”
Reflexively, Dean laughs.
Castiel does not.
“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”
all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers, 7k, ambiguously canonverse. dean is trans. dean and cas are fucking and lowkey hiding it from sam. perfect character study PERFECT trans dean fic it’s so fucking well-written 
“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”
Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.
“I mean it,” Dean insisted.
“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”
💖 the love story of the runner up by margo_kim, 4.7k, ambiguously canonverse. cas tries dating other men. bear with me here. this is an outside pov fic from an oc named miguel who is WONDERFULLY characterized and very endearing like i find outsider/oc pov to be on Thin Fucking Ice bc it always ends up as fandom/author self-insert but miguel is his OWN MAN. he gets his own lil arc and everything. dean and cas are concentrated perfectly crystallized versions of themselves and the little glimpses we get of them are amazing. ALSO i wrote like 9k of an spn vent fic (basically the same premise but w an oc named marcus) back in like. freshman yr of hs. so when i first opened this fic i was like what the fuck someone’s been in my google docs. very weird experience 10/10 regardless
“So you saw a white man in a trench coat pop out in an alley,” Paul says, “and you thought, what, ‘I want to see where this is going’?”
“If you get hung up on details like that,” Miguel says, “it will take a very long time to get through this story.”
For a very weird era in his life, Miguel dates an angel who is in love with another man.
sunshine by northernsparrow, 8k, set during s13. dean and cas have a long conversation about their Profound Bond. the description left me off-balance (it really. really truly says “dean is straight in this fic” like okay bro WEIRD hill to die on) but it pulled through w the relationship study and reassurance and snuggles. a sweet fic
One-shot with a single conversation between Dean and Castiel, set in a late-S13-ish world. Gabriel, Cas, Sam & Dean are all living in the bunker together, Gabe's been cracking certain jokes, Sam's found a certain book, Cas is injured and isn’t healing... and it's all making Dean wonder if his angel friend might have some sort of a "bond" with... somebody? Whatever that means.
Maybe it's time for a talk.
💖 still life by catchclaw, 16.5k, post-s8. cas, newly human, goes to live on his own for a while. he and dean maintain a relationship thru the phone. this is LITERALLY the only first person fic i fucking respect okay like i was skeptical! i really was! but the pov is PERFECT and also my man kevin tran is in this fic and i love him and miss him very much. oh and cas going off to explore humanity on his own..............perfect arc. very much in character we love that for him
Dean'd always thought that falling in love was a capital letter kind of thing, an Important Event you carved into the calendar of your life and never, ever forgot. But with he and Cas, it wasn't that simple.
it’s mostly cowardice, and bad timing by ferritin4, 1.6k, pre-canon. actually this one is just a dean study it’s not deancas but i spent an entire night looking for it and i need someone else to read it too. dean is smart!!! SAY THAT
Dean gets his GED.
a list of reasons the bunker shouldn’t get a sofa by lizbobjones, 5.6k, set during s12. sam and dean and mary and cas haul a sofa back to the bunker. cute domesticity and fluff
Let me count the ways that this is a terrible idea.
no kingdom to come by domesticadventures, 16.8k, canonverse. dean and cas deal with being stuck in quarantine in different ways. this is the one and only quarantine fic i’ve read and it’s really good lmao. dean and cas’ relationship is so organic and tentative in this one
“We should fuck,” Dean says.
Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.
There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.
Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”
till the juice runs by deathbanjo, 8.4k, canonverse. it’s like dean’s being cursed to have bad hookups with men. SUCH a funny fic and the deancas tension is so simple and sweet and GOOD. plus cas is so enjoyably characterized here he’s so human and worn in and experienced in his own unique way. perfect use of rowena too
Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.
turn of the year by kototyph, 3.9k, canonverse au. sam and dean get stuck out in the middle of nowhere on the winter solstice. what i wouldn’t give for a full 80k of this verse actually. also i went on a kototyph binge after reading shut up put your money where your mouth is and they have a SOLID spn repertoire
Fifteen minutes later, Dean gets back in the car with empty hands and ice in his fucking eyebrows. “Get the map out,” he says through chattering teeth, sticking numb fingers under his arms.
Sam holds up the battered 1995 Rand MacNally they keep in the side pocket, turned to a page of uninterrupted green. “We’re going to die,” he announces.
💖 bullets in the gun by kototyph, 4.9k, canonverse au. cas is a cop (i know. still) who gets kidnapped by dean in an unfortunate turn of events. GOD this fic is SO FUNNY. cas’ canny and strategic escape attempts render him a very active VERY funny pov character plus the hate attraction to dean is PERFECTLY WRITTEN VERY BELIEVABLE. dean’s kindness also shines thru even as he literally holds cas hostage like!!!! PERFECT characterization. both of them are so LIKABLE here. if you read anything on this list read this
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m going to need to borrow your car.”
as you will by kototyph, 1.8k, victorian au. cas endures a proposal mishap. it’s cute it’s funny it’s sweet!
"No?" Castiel echoes, dumbly.
and if i was looking too? by kototyph, 2.6k, au. cas is undercover where dean works. this fic is just so cute like. bird angels.................
There are some things Castiel hasn't told Dean, and there are some things he doesn't need to.
the most important thing by northernsparrow, 94.5k, s10 au. amnesiac cas raising claire until he comes across someone familiar. claire is so well characterized here i really loved her arc thruout this fic. she just wants her dad back and u can’t even blame her the author rlly does an amazing job creating realistic and heartbreaking motivations for her. oh and dean and cas (esp cas characterization!) are sweet in this but honestly the highlight IS claire for me
Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he's struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).
there’s only one sure thing that i know by blinkiesays, 20.3k, post-s5. dean goes to help cas out in ohio and they end up building a home together. i love the writing it’s rlly funny and sweet.
Dean doesn't even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby's point: he's faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he's been defeated by the God damn Midwest.
💖 to an angel, love and worship are the same thing by geminisage, 10.3k, post s15 fix it. dean grieves cas - and then cas gets brought back back from the empty. i didn’t have this in my bookmarks so i MISSED it the first time around on this list but this was another one of the fics i came back to spn fandom to. it’s so fucking unique?? it actually reads like spn like i think fic tends to soften dean/cas up and makes them more emotional + emotionally intelligent than is ever shown in the show. here the dialogue/characterization adheres RIGOROUSLY to their communication in canon in that dean’s not overtly emotional, and cas is very reserved. they have to negotiate their relationship exactly like they would in the show. it’s all clipped conversation and anger and hurt and (warning btw) LOTS of internalized homophobia on dean’s end but it’s SO worth it. dean navigating his [GESTURES VAGUELY] everything is compellingly written, emotionally true, and PERFECTLY characterized. cas characterization also amazing like u rlly feel the quiet devoted bittersweet love. ok this was long clearly it’s a good fic go read it now
Just as Dean knew they would, the weeks do stretch into months, and then into a year. Grief never gets easier, Dean knows from experience, but you do get better at it. After all, you can get used to anything.
the violin house by teh_helenables, 8.5k, post-s5. dean and cas build a home after stull. so slow and lovely and sweet and gentle. i need to put this here so that i don’t forget it tbh. it’s very much dean as a war wife cas as the husband away on the front
The Apple Pie Life is a slow process, but Dean and Cas are getting there—until Cas is called for battle and Dean is forced to wait.
💖 muscle memory by komodobits, 18.9k, au. amnesiac cas wakes up three years in the future with dean in his kitchen. komodobits DOES NOT FUCKING MISS!!! i CRIED at the end of this i had NO INTENTION OF CRYING the rest of the fic isn’t even SAD i just had to sit there at the end of it w tears dribbling down my face. INSANE work of art
Dear Castiel,
Hello – it’s Castiel. This must all seem very confusing, and I’m sorry for that. Dean says to tell you that this isn’t some kind of ‘time-travel stunt’, although I’m sure that won’t be your first thought. I know it wasn’t mine. I’ve told Dean to leave now, as this is my notebook and I want everything in it to come from me – or rather, from you. I know you think it's the fifteenth of January, 2010, but it isn't. At the time of my writing this, the date is the fourth of October, 2013. Dean Winchester is your boyfriend of a year and a half, and you no longer work at the library, and in early 2010 you were hit by a car and hospitalised. I’m sorry.
a.k.a the 50 First Dates Dean/Cas AU where Castiel wakes up on a day just like any other, except that three years have passed without his knowing, and Dean Winchester is in the kitchen wanting to marry him.
don’t forget the experience points by annie d (scaramouche), 10.8k, au. cas is sam’s work friend, and he and dean get to know each other. genuinely an adorable fic. i adore cas’ characterization in this it’s snarky AND awkward AND confident in a way that i absolutely believe he would be if he had 30 yrs of human life under his belt
It's because Dean was an awesome brother than he took such an interest in Sam's new friend. No, really. What happened afterwards was mostly an accident.
actus fidei by manic_intent, 5.6k, canonverse au. dean’s a priest, cas is still his angel. i was HOOKED from the description alone like That’s Everything I Love in One Sentence. Cool!!!!!!!!!!!!
On the very first time that Castiel manifests in front of Father Dean Winchester, he gets as far as "Rejoice, for you are blessed-" before Dean shoots him with a salt-loaded shotgun.
not with a bang but a yelp by strange_estrangement, 1.4k, canonverse. team free will leave yelp reviews. this isn’t d/c actually it’s just a crack-ish fic but the formatting is cool and the references are SO funny and so well done
What happens when you visit dozens and dozens of motels every year? You leave Yelp reviews.
the courtship of combat by bendingsignpost, 18.2k, medieval a/b/o au. cas is politically coerced into fighting in a courtship melee for prince dean's hand, and he teams up with two unexpected allies to do it. I KNOW HOW THE ABO THING SOUNDS but i swear it's done well - it's by bendingsignpost so ofc he puts his own spin on the premise. im absurdly into it. PLUS jack is in it!!!!!!! it's technically an unfinished series but the first part is so good just on its own
When pressed upon to mate for a political alliance, Commander Castiel dares to refuse his king. As “I do not wish to mate at all” is clearly the wrong thing to say, Castiel takes the other path and lies. “You must know my affections lie elsewhere, my king.”
King Michael studies Castiel’s face long and hard. Then, with a nod, he snaps his fingers, pointing to Castiel. “The Winchester omega.”
“Yes,” Castiel says with no real recollection of who that is.
The ruse of an unavailable omega works well enough, right up until that omega is no longer unavailable. Then, with what seems to be his entire nation cheering him on toward victory, Castiel must enter the melee to win his mate. Backed by allies, training, and his own natural talents, the only question is how well he can contrive to fail.
four letter word for intercourse by bendingsignpost, 194.7k, au. dean calls a sex hotline. OH BOY solid characterization excellent plot/premise like bendingsignpost is so good at turning absurd premises into realistic, believable fiction. also sex hotline fic is usually a BIG turn-off bc of the power dynamics/one-sidedness of a relationship based on sex work but. BUT. bendingsignpost does it well! it’s not weird at ALL i started reading and was immediately reassured abt its intentions and its plot direction
As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.
What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?
(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)
the tunnel of love by xylodemon, 21.4k, post-canon. case fic! dean and cas have to kiss on a loveboat to solve a case >:)
"We might," Cas starts slowly, pausing like he's choosing his words. "We might have to kiss."
Dean just stares at him.
when you have a future. by firebog, 17.6k, post-s8. dean and sam and cas learning to be human post-apocalypse. reminds me of robotmango’s writing! it’s kind of eccentric and very very sweet and funny.
Sam closes Hell. Castiel closes Heaven. The heroes save the day. There's no Heaven or Hell waiting to cause the next big disaster. There's no more end of the world. There's only a squirmy feeling in his chest that feels a lot like freedom. So, now what?
(Things I promise you in this fic: dog poetry, rabbits, and fluff)
six inch heels by alitneroon, 2.3k, canonverse. dean does drag! excellent fucking character study. prose is fantastic
Dean does drag on a whim, and ends up in way over his head.
sharing is caring by gateskeeper, 2.5k, canonverse. five times dean and cas shared something and one time they didn’t. look. sometimes u just need some saccharine tropey fluff. it’s VERY well written
Sam knows that Dean and Cas have shared a lot together, but ever since Cas became human permanently, it seems like they've been sharing a lot more. 
Or: five times Dean and Cas shared something special and one time Dean refused to.
💖 empty spaces by schmerzerling, 60k, au. dean has to take care of his dying father, and takes up running to cope. that’s just the beginning. HEAVY trigger warnings for ED (specifically anorexia) and suicidal thoughts. there is a happy ending, but dean has to fight to make it there. god. okay. this is a dark fic. it’s also one of the most well-characterized fics i’ve ever read. dean’s spiral is excruciatingly accurate and written with the kind of wry compassion that comes from either extensive research or extensive experience. it’s also completely immersed in dean’s perspective - dean’s relationship w his dad, dean’s relationship w food scarcity, etc. it’s incredible. it’s kinda scary. it’s deeply sad. cas is explicitly autistic and it’s ALSO incredibly accurate and loving, and makes cas so true to his canon self. ugh. and i burst into TEARS at some of the accompanying art, which is so sparse and lonely and beautiful. 100/10 experience one of the best fics i’ve read this year
Dean is fine. The way he sees it, things are simple. He had a house and a family and food in his stomach, and now he doesn't. And yeah, that's a downer, but he's not going to let that stop him from being fine, because he's in control of the situation. He definitely doesn't need anyone to save him. And it's not like the weird guy with the nice butt from down the road is the knight-in-shining-armor type, anyway.
broken road by thegeminisage, 109.6k, 14x13 au. dean makes a wish and gets more than he bargained for. a lot of “john comes back” fics are kinda short on nuance, which this author has talked about a lot - and oh MAN does this fic deliver on nuance. john’s abuse is absolutely present, but his pov makes him a complex character instead of a flat caricature for dean to reject. and the way this fic resolves really makes it clear that the priority is dean’s emotional well-being over all else!!! this isn’t about dean taking the path fandom thinks he should take w his abuser (killing john, punching john in the face, etc), this is abt dean coming to terms w his abuse and finding his own emotionally satisfying way of resolving it. also dean and cas are in an established relationship and it’s very slow and sweet.
A 14.13 Lebanon rewrite. When Dean uses a wish-granting pearl to try and kill the archangel Michael before he can escape the cage in Dean's head, they instead wind up with a newly-resurrected John Winchester.
It's been more than a decade since John died, and a lot has changed: Mary is alive, Sam and Dean have what passes for a proper home in the Men of Letters Bunker, and they're living with angels. John doesn't know angels are real, he doesn't know about the fragile new relationship between Dean and Castiel, and most of all, he doesn't know that Dean said yes to Michael, or that Dean's plan to defeat Michael would send him to a fate worse than death.
Now Dean must contend with both his father asking questions he can't answer, and his loved ones learning about the darker truths of his childhood, all while constantly battling the archangel trapped inside him. But Dean coming to terms with his history may be the difference between this being the beginning of a journey—or the end. 
home is not a place by imogenbynight, 6.8k, post-s11. human cas struggles with belonging, and dean struggles with their relationship. this reads a lot like komodobits’ cuckoo and nest, but it’s its own sweet little thing. they watch movies!!! very cute 
In which Dean is the oblivious one for a change.
love: a retrospective by xylodemon, 40.7k, post-s12. dean tries to deal w cas’ absence after s12 and reflects on their relationship thru the years. this was written before s13 aired, so - no spoilers - but jack plays a different role than he ends up playing in canon. it’s kinda fun seeing ppl’s theories pre-s13 tbh. makes me VERY glad that they took jack in the direction they did in show. anyway this is THEE definitive “they’ve been fucking all along” fic
Pretending Cas is just his friend has been the only thing keeping Dean's head on straight for years. He never realized how much doing that depended on him making himself scarce in the morning ─ not until Cas came back and moved into the bunker.
✨💖 if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee, 37k, post-s15 fix-it. cas gets broken out of the empty - and he immediately makes a break for it. new fave fix-it!!!! the writing is so understated and so straightforward - SO in character for cas tbh - that every single emotional beat feels like a PUNCH. and there are so many amazing character moments it made my chest seize the fuck up!!!!! perfect characterization perfect relationship moments perfect cas/jack parenting moments. the yearning over the phone is OFF THE CHARTS and spocklee makes the most of that tension!!!! PLUS old canon characters get to make fun appearances!!!!! i cannot recommend this shit enough
After the Empty, Cas has to spend some time alone. Orpheus tries to convince Eurydice over the phone that it’s okay to turn around now.
✨ before and after breakfast by spocklee, 10.5k, post-canon. dean and sam and cas tackle a monster of the week case with unexpected consequences. perfect pov perfect relationship moments SUCH GOOD TENSION. again this writing style just lets the tension dial up to 1000% every word is meaningful and it makes my chest hurt!!! spocklee SHOULD have blown up during the spn renaissance and i STAND by that
The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.
CLASSICS
isn't it cool how every person has diff fics they consider "classics?" anyway these are required fucking reading. if u've been around these will prob be old news.
💖 asunder by rageprufrock, 23k, au. dean and cas go to sam's wedding. i reread this once a year like a religious ritual.
Wherefore they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. (Matthew 19:6)
💖 the girlfriend experience by rageprufrock, 15k, set during s5. dean teaches cas how to be human. mostly the sex part. literally the gold fucking standard of s4-5 era deancas fic and for deancas fic in general, personally
While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.
okay, cupid. by orange_crushed, 4.5k, au. dean tries to sign up for an ok cupid profile and has a revelation. as soon as i put this entry down i realized this entire fic rec was an exercise in futility, because if i could i'd literally just rec everything orange_crushed/robotmango has ever written. still one of THEE best authors in this fandom. go read all her fics. i’ll put the highlights here
"The dating thing?" Dean frowns. "Online dating is for weirdos. Robots. Dudes hanging out in their basements."
"You hang out in your basement."
"I have an air hockey table down there,” Dean says, icily.
💖 pwp: pie without plot by orange_crushed and majorenglishesquire, 82k, post-s8. sam and dean and cas quit hunting for a little bit to open a bakery. this is my comfort fic. i love it so so much.
he is in the kitchen with flour on his hands and an apron and there is flour on his forehead and cas leans across the counter and wipes it off with his thumb and dean says "thank you" and cas says "you’re welcome" very seriously and later dean makes apple turnovers and he only ruins them a little and sam realizes it’s not a real hunt like four days into it and he lets dean stay undercover for like a week and a half or longer maybe way longer because he is such a good everything
💖 la cucina by orange_crushed, 4k, post-s8. dean gets into cooking for a newly human cas. it's so gentle and loving and kind and makes me tear up every time. YES food is a comfort item and expression of love for dean. no i don't want to talk about it
Dean turns around and Castiel is picking through the jars, turning them over carefully to read the labels, totally engrossed. Dean watches him.
"Is there," Dean says, "uh, anything in there you like?" Castiel looks up at him and then back at the apples, sitting in a basket on the counter in their golden skins, ripe and pretty. Castiel smiles up at Dean.
"I don’t know yet," he says.
today, your barista verse by orange_crushed, 13.6k, coffeeshop au. a series of short sweet lovely fics where cas is a barista and dean is a smitten customer. literally the only coffeeshop au i respect
"Is that-"
"My number," says Dean, because he's a fucking champion, he's cool, he's collected, he's Captain Smooth of the USS Smoothtania, that's right. He is definitely not leaning against the counter for moral support. Cas doesn't looked seduced or impressed, though. He does not look like a dude who just met Captain Smooth and wants to ride the loveboat. He looks puzzled.
fata morgana. by orange_crushed, 6.6k, post-s9. dean is the king of hell. bela and cas team up to find him. bela pov. yeah you fucking heard that right BELA POV. BELA AND CAS!!!!!!!!!! makes me lose my mind i love everyone in this stupid desolate fucking hell wasteland.
The endless asphalt and broken road, the empty land and piles of human garbage, the unwanted ends of life, the cracked toys and broken screens and burning cars and gravel. Dean Winchester is the king of hell.
"Oh," says Bela.
That changes certain things.
💖 gran fury. by orange_crushed, 5k, pacific rim au. sam and cas pair up in a last ditch mission to save the world. permanently damaged me at age 15 and i've never recovered. major fucking angst warning.
They sit in silence and Castiel passes him the bottle. There’s not much left to say. Sam takes a gulp and it burns going down, like the cheap shit it is. He holds the bottle up against the light. He can see the Fury through it, distorted like a funhouse mirror. She’s a tomb but Sam loves her. Loves everything that’s left.
"To the end of the world," he says.
"To the end of the world," says Castiel.
💖 shut up (put your money where your mouth is) by kototyph, 24k, au. dean and cas get drunk married in vegas. dean renovates cas' house. this fic is SO MUCH BETTER than i remembered/expected and the entire series is fucking adorable go read it RIGHT now
Dean's done some pretty stupid things, but getting drunk-hitched in Vegas to a colleague he barely knows might just take the cake. His surprise husband, Castiel, is a little weird but likable despite that, and Dean figures they’ll go back to Boston, get a quiet annulment, and go their separate ways. Six weeks later, he’s still married to one of the strangest, most genuine and definitely most dangerously lov-- likable guys he's ever known. Dean doesn't know why or really even how it’s happening, but it’s getting harder and harder to remember that he has divorce papers to file.
not part of the plan by annie d (scaramouche), 338k, arranged marriage au. cas is slated to marry a noble from the winchester house. things spiral out of control. if you’re looking for an extensive well-developed political au, this is fucking it. i love reading about political machinations so this was FASCINATING to me. 
Castiel's spent most of his adult life keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. This is a deliberate choice on his part, because as a cousin of the King, he'd rather stay unimportant and forgotten. This changes abruptly when King Michael decides that he has a better use for Castiel: he is to be wed to a noble member of the neighboring Republic, as part of an agreement between their two nations.
Castiel knows he has to obey, but that doesn't mean he won't rebel in what small ways he can. Unexpectedly, his actions end up having far-reaching consequences.
💖 all things shining by askance and standbyme, 142k, au. sam and dean and cas go on a hunt that's not really a hunt, and against all odds good things happen. it's beautifully written and has scenes that literally make my heart leap out of my chest with joy and awe it's just WONDERFUL it's a wonderful fic. incredible mythology too omg i found that the authors actually created the myth the entire story is based on - like they don’t pull a random one from history, they made one up THEMSELVES. they even self-published it on amazon if ur curious
Something in the world is waking up.
It isn’t long before it’s brought to the attention of the Winchesters and Castiel: miracles are spreading across the country, the paranormal seems to be shrinking back on itself—and it all has something to do with the missing prayer book of a traveling preacher who died over a century ago.
Dean is convinced it’s all the lead-up to another Apocalypse; Sam and Castiel aren’t so sure. Regardless, it sends them out on a less-than-typical road-trip, following the Mississippi and remnants of a very old story that seems increasingly to call to them. And along the way the trio learn much more about themselves—and the consequences and origins of love—than they’d ever have anticipated.
💖 broadway musical by griftings, 12.4k, crack. romcom where cas is supposed to play matchmaker to dean and jo and well. you know. it actually made me cackle out loud when i read it again so you know it's still good. absolutely one of the funniest fics i’ve read
This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.
The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.
Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.
the five people you meet in heaven by chevrolangels, 22k, ambiguously canonverse. dean dies and goes to heaven and meets five people from his life. NOT a post-finale fic but still horrifically sad. i remember sobbing hysterically when i first read this so
Heaven is white.
Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.
Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.
There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.
They are the five people you meet in heaven.
any port in a storm by microcomets, 53k, post-s8. dean and cas go on a haunted cruise for a case. you know what happens next. also the art is by anobviousaside and it's gorgeous
The angels have fallen, leaving Castiel graceless and Dean with, well, more of other people’s problems. When a string of couples goes missing on the east coast, Dean and Cas decide to investigate—and find themselves trapped and hunted on a couples’ counseling cruise. Although battling monsters at sea is dangerous enough, sorting through emotional baggage proves to be far more deadly. (And, in which Cas embarks to find his missing grace and Dean is put out. Not necessarily in that order.)
a turn of the earth by microcomets, 95k, pre-canon au. cas is on the run from the empty and crash lands in dean's life. at one point he punches john in the face. a fucking beautifully written character study of pre-canon dean, honestly.
Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.
Frigging fantastic.
(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)
unfinished duet by microcomets, 5.8k, canonverse. sam observes dean and cas throughout the years. i remember this breaking my heart back in 2013!
Sam watches Dean and Cas over the years and notices a few things. (Or, Dean and Cas unscripted.)
💖 ergative/absolutive by glassedplanets, 8k, college au. dean and cas are best friends who meet in an astronomy class. i'm never not thinking about this fic it's so sweet and the friends to lovers is so soft and believable
He really shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this about his best friend who literally just broke up with his girlfriend, but he knows he’ll blame it on sleepiness in the morning. He always does.
a certain light by flightagain, 24k, au. cas works at the gas n sip. dean is a customer. this author’s writing style is so lonely and heavy but it’s very lovely
Castiel works at the Gas-n-Sip. There are half-price nachos and flickering lights, there are office-workers and werewolves stopping by for snacks. Dean is a frequent customer, and his office might be haunted.
the one thing you can’t lose by majorenglishesquire, 5k, ambiguously canonverse. dean can pull cas around and it’s adorable. character study-ish. very sweet.
You know what I like a lot? The thought that Dean can just tug Cas anywhere at any time and Cas, who can lift tons without effort, who can demolish things with the light of his grace, who has battled and gone to war, has defended and broken, will just let Dean do it.
brother lover by twentysomething, 4k, set during s4/s5. dean’s jealous of sam and cas’ budding relationship. this fic is so tropey but it does it well and it’s funny as fuck
However- and it doesn't happen a lot- they have to invoke 'I saw her first.’
his fucking kids by 8sword, 3k, canonverse au. dean and cas raise claire and emma together. yes, claire novak. yes, emma of 7x13 spice girls fame. this was the first kidfic i read for spn i think. obvs written before jack or claire actually came back into the picture but it was the TEMPLATE of kidfic for me for ages
Jesus, the school should just have a parking spot labeled, “Reserved for the Novak-Winchesters,” because Dean’s getting sick of having to cruise around the parking lot looking for a spot every time he gets a call from the principal about Emma.
💖 what has eight tentacles and isn’t allowed to eat pie? by annie d (scaramouche), 16k, post s8. dean gets turned into an octopus. another fic that was SO MUCH BETTER than i remembered i fucking love when that happens. it isn’t even about dean being an OCTOPUS like NO. NOT EVEN. it’s ACTUALLY about the bunker and building a home and a community and a family and about PHYSICAL COMFORT and you can actually feel the world expanding at the end of this fic like a gusty sigh of relief it’s SO WONDERFUL. kevin is in this fic. ellie is too and i had to look her up but THIS is her!!!! danay garcia u were too hot to stay on this show but i love you and miss u
Dean watched an anime porn about this once, but real life turns out to be way less interesting.
Or, the one where Dean gets turned into an octopus.
💖 a beginner’s guide to communing with the dead by suspiciousflashlight, 77k, canonverse au. dean is a cop who summons a powerful entity to help him solve a cold case. oh my god i can’t believe i didn’t put this on here i love this one so much. the writing bowls me over it’s so confident in its worldbuilding like you’re IMMEDIATELY plunged into dean’s pov (FLAWLESSLY executed throughout the fic btw) and you just learn about the world as you go!! and it’s such a fascinating world!!! i love the magic i love the typical bureaucratic red tape procedures i love normalizing the supernatural. i ESPECIALLY love monsters as normal people in a society. at one point there’s this exchange
“Monsters,” says Cas finally. “Beyond the Wall there are monsters.” “You mean, like, vampires and djinn and stuff?” Cas shakes his head. “Those aren’t monsters, those are just people.”
those lines have stayed with me for years. i think about them every time i rewatch an episode of spn.
Maybe it's the little girl whose disappearance turned into a murder, and whose murder turned into a cold case, and who has now apparently decided to move in with him. Maybe it's the unacceptable hole left in his life when his dumb best friend and partner in (the prevention of) crime decided to go and get himself killed. Maybe it's his brother, whose high-profile career and fantastic girlfriend and first-child-on-the-way are steadily leaving Dean in the dust. Pick one. Pick all of them. The why doesn't matter so much as the what, and the what is this: Dean is pretty sure he's going completely, certifiably insane. Sure, he hasn't started wearing all his clothes inside out, and he still showers on a regular basis (anyways, that's not crazy, just a little eccentric); but there's no getting around the fact that he just threw away his life, his career, and his reputation by dragging out his mom's old necromancy book and summoning a Class A Forbidden Entity to his attic. A cranky one, too. With horrendous bed-head.
dean’s list by almaasi, 3k, canonverse. dean makes a list. short and sweet. i read this so much in 2015 that it literally got engraved into my brain line by line and rereading it caused synapses to fire that havent felt anything in years
Dean writes out a list of men he would go gay for. Sam has a suggestion to make.
💖 the path of fireflies by museaway, 63.7k, post-s8. dean and cas open a charming bed and breakfast in vermont. no, literally. another CLASSIC. i think about the food in this fic all the time...........maple bacon baked french toast......the cinnamon rolls.....it literally sounds so good
After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.
long nights in cold months by pyrebi, 2.3k, au. dean’s an insomniac and cas works at walmart. i forgot i had this fic ALSO basically memorized. holy shit. pineapple in the fruit aisle.....................anyway it’s short and sweet and the “plot” resolves in such a satisfying way
When you're an insomniac, you get used to the "what the hell are you doing up, man?" look. Dean just hopes the guy who's stocking the shelves will stop giving it to him long enough to help him find some damn pineapple.
incredibly single & ready to mingle by imogenbynight, 3.6k, au. dean and cas meet on facebook. short cute au!!!!!!
Sam uses Facebook like the social media junkie he is. He's befriended literally every person he's ever had a conversation with since he got an account, which means that approximately—Dean checks—eight hours ago, he shared this horrible photo with something in the vicinity of nine hundred people. The caption below the picture reads “incredibly single & ready to mingle ;)” and roughly half of them have liked it.
Dean has never been so embarrassed in his life.
💖 unknown quantities by xylodemon, 8.5k, post-s8. after a post-case tryst, dean has to figure out his and cas’ relationship. human cas fics hold a special place in my heart. funny AND good dean pov AND a misunderstanding that i actually think works!!!!!
No one ever tells Dean anything.
(or: Dean Winchester and the not-relationship crisis of 2014)
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pi-cat000 · 4 years
Text
MSA time travel idea (part 39)
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5
Part 40: here
...
LEWIS POV
Lewis comes to welcome the dark interludes which provide a brief reprieve from the parade of fake-Arthur-memories. The cold, empty silence is preferable to the increasingly dour scenes depicting the day-to-day struggles of fake-Arthur and fake-Vivi as they fail at dealing with fake-Lewis’s death. Not that either of them know about his death. Arthur doesn’t remember the cliff or the body snatcher, thinking fake-Lewis is alive and lost somewhere. Vivi doesn’t remember him at all. He’s been erased completely from her mind, leaving her confused and Arthur distraught.  Lewis has no idea how long he’s spent watching them struggle. The scenes come and go at varying lengths and changing levels of detail.  He must have lived through several weeks’ worth of fake-memories now. Months of Arthur’s life flit by, broken up into chunks. 
...
A conversation with Vivi, trying and failing to convince her that the other-Lewis had existed at all.
“Lewis…you know, Lewis. Please remember.”
“I’m sorry, I blanked out for a second there…what were you saying?” 
“Nothing. It’s nothing…”
“Oh shit…I was...how long was I out for this time?”
“An hour...You were gone for an hour.”
 “I’m sorry Arthur.” 
“Don’t worry about it. Was my fault…Mentioned something I shouldn’t have.”
Fights with Lance when the older man attempts to intervene and stop Arthur’s increasingly destructive behaviour.   
“This behaviour isn’t healthy.”
“What am I supposed to do!”
“Maybe, stop and actually think about this…” 
“Lewis is out there somewhere, and you want me to just give up!”
Hours spend online and in police stations trying to convince people to look for the other-Lewis. 
“Kid. You’re friend is listed as missing. We have alerts out in the neighbouring states and so far there’s been no word. Search parties, caving experts, were combing those old mine shafts for six days after you came in. There was nothing there.”
“Something happened there...something bad...if you would just...”
“The cave is just a regular cave. Those old mines are old mines. Nothing weird or spooky about them, just very easy to get lost in. There’s nothing more to be done so go home, eat a hot meal, get some sleep. If your friend shows up you’ll be one of the first to know. ” 
...
 It’s like watching a highlight real, only nothing about these memories is a highlight. He’s almost sure the fake-memories are selected and purposefully skewed towards negative experiences. Surely, even if this were real-it’s not real, it can’t be real-Arthur’s life wouldn’t be this bad without Lewis there.  
When the darkness falls away, transitioning into another memory, Lewis wants to yell out in frustration.
Lewis’s eyes open of their own accord and he’s looking out at the world, experiencing life from his friend’s perspective.
This memory starts with Arthur staring as a door handle, hesitating to pull it open. Lewis recognises it of course, he’s seen this door serval times, scattered in amongst the most recent lot of fake-memories. It’s the door to Vivi and Arthur’s apartment in Milton, faded green in colour and rusted around the hinges.
Arthur lets out a long breath which tranistions into a yawn, fiddling around with a set of keys with his one, good arm. Lewis tries not to worry when his friend drops the keys to the ground, hand slightly shakier than usual. Arthur probably hasn’t been sleeping properly. Not-sleeping is a running theme for this fake-memory-Arthur.
When the door does finally swing open, it is to reveal an irate Vivi. She is blocking the flat’s narrow entryway, her hands on her hips, expression creased into a scowl.
“In what universe does ‘I’ll be back early’ mean 11:30 pm?”
Arthur winces. Lewis can’t see his expression but his friend is probably grimacing. Most memories that feature both Vivi and Arthur involved an argument of some sort. Another form of torture for him no doubt. Seeing them struggle to come to terms with his disappearance was always a painful viewing experience. Lewis braces himself for some sort of emotionally charged argument, wishing he had the power to intervein. These fake-memories are some of the hardest to sit through.
“A lot of the guys in the lab work late hours.”
Vivi looks unimpressed, “And I suppose they’re all recovering from a recent amputation as well are they?”
“It’s been four months …It’s healed plenty.”
Lewis feels the echo sensation of pain as Arthur drops his bag to the floor, freeing up his remaining arm. Arthur lying to Vivi about his wellbeing is another common theme in these fake-memories. Vivi knows it too, Lewis can already see the tension in her shoulders.
“I’m fine,” Arthur tries to reassure, skirting around Vivi, avoiding eye contact. “The prototype for the new arm is almost done, we’re just waiting on the guys in programming to double-check some of the coding….”
“This new arm isn’t going to be worth much if you’re too exhausted to do anything with it.” Vivi interrupts angrily, following Arthur as he slinks past the small kitchen towards bedrooms at the back of the apartment.  
Lewis feels her grabs the back of Arthur’s shirts, pulling the other up short.
“I said I’m fin….wait.”
 Vivi drags Arthur to the narrow kitchen bench just big enough to fit two bar-chairs, ignoring his objections.
“Sit.” She orders, stopping over to the frig, pulling out a bowl and thrusting it into the microwave. The hum of the microwave makes the following quiet twice as uncomfortable. Even Lewis feels it.
Arthur clears his throat to speak and is cut off when the microwave lets off a loud ping.
Vivi all but slams the streaming bowl down in front of Arthur.
“You really don’t have to…” Arthur tries.
“Oh yeah? What did you eat for dinner?”
Silence.
“Lunch?”
“…”
“Because I only know you ate breakfast because I was there for it.”
More silence hangs between them.  
“Eat.” She instructs and glares until Arthur picks up the spoon. Lewis can feel Arthur shift in awkward discomfort as he starts eating. After living through so many of these fake-memories, Lewis is becoming an Arthur body language expert. 
“How was work?” Arthur breaks the silence, glancing at Vivi. She is sitting with her arms crossed, still upset, still annoyed. Lewis can read the worry fuelling her frustration clear as day. 
Her expression clears as she deliberately puts the issue of Arthur arriving late to one side, “Work was good. Duet is a real character but they’re nice and super knowledgeable when it comes to the occult and other supernatural stuff. They’re helping me research memory-related curses and whatnot. The first person, apart from you, who doesn’t think I’m crazy. So that’s a plus.”
“When my arm is fixed, we can hit the road and follow up on any leads you hear,” Arthur murmurs between mouthfuls and Lewis wishes he could face-palm because that is the exact wrong thing to say. Not for the first time, Lewis longs to be physically present so he can smooth over the sudden tension which spikes in the room.  “Or we could go before that…I mean…I don’t really need two arms.”
“It’s not urgent or anything,” Vivi responds with the forced cheer of someone holding back on speaking their mind. “I bleary notice that the memories are gone most days. Your arm is more important.”
 “Don’t say that,” Arthur stops eating to frown.
“Don’t say what? That I’m fine postponing the search for my memories for however long it takes you to get better?”
“That’s not…what I mean is that your memories are important.”
Vivi’s expression hardens, becoming terse, “Not more important than your health.”
Arthur tenses.
“My missing memories can wait,” She insists. “I’ve been doing fine without them. Especially now we live here and not in Tempo. I haven’t had a blackout since we moved.”
“It’s not just that…” Arthur retorts, frustrated.
“Then what.” Vivi snaps, almost yelling now, “Do you hear yourself speak?  ‘I don’t really need two arms,’…are you kidding me!  What could possibly be more important than your health.”
“You know I can’t tell you.”
Vivi lets out a long, frustrated breath, standing. “You promised, when we moved closer to the hospital labs, you promised that you’d make an effort to actually look after yourself.”
Arthur doesn’t respond as Vivi continues.  “When your arm is finished. When you look like an actual person and not a zombie. When we don’t have to have this conversation every day. Then we’ll go searching.”
The bar stool squeaks on the floor as Vivi pushes it back, “I’m going to bed. I’ve got work early tomorrow. You should sleep as well…when you’ve finished.”
A long silence stretches between his two friends, all the heat gone from the argument. Lewis can’t see Vivi anymore, Arthur’s vision is now fixed on his spoon which is resting on the lip of the bowl.
“I would tell you everything…if I could…” Arthur doesn’t look up. His voice is strained.
Vivi pauses in the doorway. “I know.” She sounds tired. Lewis’s heart aches. “That doesn’t change anything.” 
Arthur flinches.
A sigh and Vivi adds, “I better not find you awake in an hour because I’m going to set my alarm to check.”
“What?” Arthur finally looks up. “You can’t do that.”
“I can and will.”
“…but you just said you have work in the morning.”
“If you’re not gonna sleep then I’m not gonna sleep.”
“But….”
“Just the way it’s gotta be apparently,” Vivi finishes, strolling out of the room, leaving Arthur- and, through him, Lewis- to stare after her.
Arthur slumps, “God…damnit…” rubbing his eyes. There’s no anger to the word.
No matter how many times he’s seen Arthur and Vivi argue in the weeks and months following his counterpart’s death, it never got any easier.  They were both too stubborn for their own good. Arthur’s got a quiet, methodical stubbornness about him while Vivi is loud and abrasive. Mix that with emotional stress and an obvious concern for one another and the result was a whole load of tension. Lewis knows Arthur has low self-esteem and tendency to beat himself up and blame himself for stuff that definitely wasn’t his fault, but he’s never seen him this bad. It never seemed like that big a deal when both him and Vivi had been around to help.  Vivi too, he’s never see her so stressed and angry at seemingly everything.  Or maybe Lewis doesn’t know Vivi or Arthur as well as he thought he did. 
There is movement in the corner of the room and Lewis notices Mystery for the first time. The not-a-dog had been lying in the corner.
“What.”
Mystery just cocks his head to the side.
“I know you can understand me,” Arthur mutters, shifting with discomfort. Mystery doesn’t speak or do much of anything, trotting out of the room after Vivi. Not too surprising. Another trend in these illusions was that Mystery tended to just sit and watch.
Sometimes, Lewis wonders if he just imagined the whole ‘giant fox’ thing. His memories for the car park confrontation are fuzzy, he’d been in a lot of pain at the time and probably suffering a bit of blood loss. He’s lived through so many of these memories that the real would seams so far away. Then he remembers those shinning teeth biting into him, and very real physical pain. That was real. 
The real world was still out there. 
None of these memories were real. He had almost forgotten. 
“I’m not crazy,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing the dog uneasily before turning back to finish what’s left in his bowl. Lewis can’t read Arthur’s thoughts, but he suspects that his friend might be having similar doubts about Mystery’s true identity as well.
“I’ll find you, Lewis…”
For a second, Lewis thinks Arthur is addressing him directly before remembering that that’s impossible. This fake-memory-Arthur is addressing the ghost of a best friend he doesn’t know is dead. Lewis is only a passenger, watching life through Arthur’s eyes, invisible and stranded.
“I’ll find you …no matter what it takes. I’ll find you. And everything will go back to normal…”
The memory fades, darkening and Lewis is once again back in the dark.
...
...
...
“DAMNIT!”
He slams both fists into the ground, watching the darkness ripple under the impact. His yell doesn’t echo, swallowed by the nothing.
“Damnit…DAMNIT…DAMN IT ALL!”
Feelings of frustration and anger smother his hurt and sorrow. He growls, smashing his fist into the ground again. If this were the real world, he’d have to worry about bruising his knuckles or breaking his fingers. The void offers little in the way of resistance. 
“I GET IT, ALL RIGHT! They’re miserable…they’re struggling…I get the point!”
Nothing responds to his shouting. He’s alone. He shouts again, screaming into the void. He’s stopped questioning the motive behind what he was seeing long ago. They were illusions masquerading as his friend’s memories. Designed to hurt him as much as you can hurt a person without touching them.
“Just stop already!” He rages. Nothing responds.
 Fury, white-hot, is better than the creeping sadness threatening to drown him. Sure, being angry about things had never worked well for him in the past. He’d been a very angry child and it was only thanks to his adopted patents and then Vivi and Arthur that he’d put the unpleasant emotion behind him.
None of that mattered here. Here, in the dark, the anger is his only defence against the green bastard’s torture.
Lewis regrets not punching the asshole when he had the chance. He wishes he’d done a lot of things differently. Lewis continues yelling right up until the dark once again fades into another memory.
..
NOTE: Resurrecting this fic in anticipation for a possible new video maybe? One can only dream. Sorry if it reads slightly different, i’m a bit rusty.  
Part 40: here
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What are the top 5 *saddest* moments (ALL seasons) in your opinion?
Oof, the saddest moments? Alright, this should be fun, especially since I gotta narrow it down to only 5 moments. 
I’m basing this personal list on scenes/moments that usually get a strong, emotional reaction every time I play through the series that stick with me after the game is over, or it’s something that I’ve never gotten over in all the years that I’ve played these games. 
As usual, I’ll go from “least” to most sad, starting with #5.
5. Javier burying Mariana
Yeah, this one gets me. I hate it so much and it’s just... it’s just so sad. Like, Javi watched Mari, his niece that I’d argue he was the closest with, get murdered right before his eyes, completely unable to do anything to prevent it since it came out of fucking nowhere... and then the way his voice breaks as he says his goodbyes as he buries her and... ow. 
It’s not a long moment and it’s probably not a moment that’d make it onto a lot of lists but I think it’s the fact that it’s so unfair, y’know? We all know Mari’s death was bullshit, and having to be the one to slowly bury her physically hurts me. 
Just... Mariana deserved better, and Javi didn’t deserve that pain. Sigh. 
4. Sam attacking Clementine, forcing her to kill him
Listen, if a game presents me with a dog [or any animal] companion with the sole intention of killing it off to score an easy emotional reaction out of me it automatically gets 2 outta 5 stars deducted in the final rating. 
So... fuck S2. I will give it the teeny tiniest bit of credit since Sam attacking Clementine and her having to decide his fate does hit the player over the head with “Clementine can’t be alone yet” and “this season is despair” shit this season has going for it, so it technically does serve a purpose... but fuck S2. 
Clementine wasn’t the only one traumatized from that event y’know. I dread it every single time I’m forced to go through with it during replays and it’s sad. Sam dying is sad. I’m just glad S4 was smart enough not to kill Rosie off. 
3.  Clementine and AJ in the barn
Yeah, I cried. Like... a part of me was completely in denial that they’d kill Clementine off, which I was right about, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have a reaction to Clementine and AJ’s “final” moments together in that damn barn, okay? 
Like, AJ’s fucking crying, Clementine looks like she’s already dead, she’s trying to make sure he remembers all the rules before she dies, and then you gotta make one final request to either have AJ leave her to turn or prevent her from turning, both of which I hate. 
Then, I started thinking about Louis and how he was gonna take the news that Clementine died and just.... UGH. 
On top of that, I think the knowledge that this was the last episode I’d ever get to play for the first time really struck me, and that sure as hell didn’t help my feelings. I didn’t sob the same way I did with Lee, but there were tears and they were not happy. 
2. Lee’s death/leaving Lee to turn
Yeah, I sobbed. What of it? 
Look, I played this game with it came out in 2012. I was obsessed and after realizing that Lee was bit and probably going to die, I still held out hope that they wouldn’t kill him off because he was the playable protagonist. 
I was but a mere dingus child and I paid for that. 
Lee’s death is always a hard one. Always. But here’s the thing... if you’re like me, you have Clementine prevent Lee from turning. From a storytelling standpoint, I’d argue that it’s “better” in the sense that there feels like there’s more closure, you didn’t have to force Lee to become one of the monsters and leave him to be like that for years to come, and it’s just super fucking tragic. 
For years, that was my ending. Never questioned it. Never looked up what happened if you didn’t shoot him because “There’s a reason no one picks that one-- shooting Lee is the *right* choice.” 
Yeah, uh-huh, but then I stopped being a dingus and gave the other ending a shot and I’ve yet to recover. 
Like, fucking fuck everything-- leaving Lee to turn just... *distressed pterodactyl noises*
So yeah, it doesn’t matter what final choice is made, Lee death is the fucking worst. 
1.  Thank you for playing
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aka “Realizing that TFS is the last game in twdg, Clementine’s story is over, I’ll never get to see Louis, Clementine, AJ, or my Ericson children again and it’s all over, no more episodes will come out and I’m just an emotional mess don’t look at me--”
Judge me all you want for putting this as #1 but fuck it, it’s #1 for a fucking reason and that reason is it’s the fucking saddest thing. 
That entire scene of AJ walking around the dorm that’s full of collectibles, reacting and placing them all while you get closer and closer to placing Clementine’s hat on the desk just.... it gets me. It fucking gets me every time. I’m so emotionally exhausted after that damn “Thank you for playing” message pops up as AJ leaves to join the others and the music swells and then roll credits and I just
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I can’t. 
I’ll never get to see muh boy Louis again. Clementine, AJ? My Ericson children? Nope. Never again. It’s all over. 
Well, until Robert Kirkman decides he wants to fuck shit up I guess but that’d be the worst tragedy of them all so we’re gonna ignore that. 
So yeah... there’s my list. 
I’m curious-- what are some of your saddest moments? We’re all different and I’m sure you guys have plenty of differing moments that made you cry or that you’d deem the saddest. I’m genuinely interested! :D
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