#(even if. conversely. it can hurt him just the same)

[yandere-wishes]

⚙︎ Just same quick Yandere Transformers One thoughts

Imagine Sentinal Prime taking you as his darling. It's so easy for him to make you disappear, to erase you from a semi-functional world. He snaps his fingers and you're kneeling before him, optics wide in fear, servos bound behind you. All Cybertron runs through his digits, and you little girl should be utterly honored to have caught his optic.

He colors you in the richest of paints, upgrades you with the newest enhancements in all of Cybertron.

Reconstructed as the perfect doll, sitting pretty in his lap as his golden wings gently caress your back. Maybe if you're particularly feisty, rebellious, and tenacious he'll even remove your T-cog. Making you watch as he crushes your metallic organ in his fist.

"Don't forget your place, my dear. Don't make me remind you again"

Sentinal always has you propped up pretty on his lap. Trailing his fingers over your arms and thighs. Half-heartedly tracing stars and swirls as he's forced to listen to Cybertron's newest developments and his latest orders. The senate's conversations are unfiltered, they peel away the senator's golden facades leaving only the monstrous truth. Sentinel especially is the wickedest of all. Diabolic traitor playing king-prophet. You fight the urge to sink your teeth into him, biting and ridding until only scrap remains...

But the truth is too brittle. You have no power, no strength compared to him. And you're too terrified of Sentinal's punishments to step out of line.

Sometimes when the conversations get too grotesque to drown out, your desperate optics weave to an open window, peering helplessly at a world that's forgotten you. It's usually Senital's cold lips that melt away the melancholy trance. Reawaking you into your nightmare...

── .✦⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚ ✦ . ──

Imagine D-16 finding you as he's defeating Sentinal. You look so bruised and battered, so broken. Maybe he knew you once, a transformer who was always sweet and kind to the miners. Maybe it's the look of utter despair and hopelessness in your optics that catches his attention. Almost like a mirror of his pain. His servos itch to wrap around your neck, to crush wires and circuits, to eliminate anything that Sentinal has ever held dear.

But he can't...

His broken spark screams in pity. You're just another helpless bot trapped in Sentinel's web of deceit. He saves you for himself, a shivered war prize he's convinced he can fix. He makes plans to seek out Solus Prime's T-cog to lay within your chest. He wonders if Megatronus would approve.

But it doesn't end that way now, does it?

Destiny is too cruel for such fragile hopes.

⛧°。 ⋆༺★༻⋆。 °⛧

Alternatively, Maybe Orian is the one to find you, sacred confused, and utterly alone. He's so eager to lend a helping hand. Wanting so badly to wrap you in his arms, to give you warmth and hope. He plucks you away from Sentinal's tarnished castle. Pulling you away into a life that tastest of saccharine daydreams and sugar-laced optimism.

And Orian -or rather Optimus- is perfect, sweet and loving, and hopeful...

But he's also tasted loss and duplicity. Bitter truths leading to his jaded obsession. He's so careful with you always having a servo on your hip, always listening to every conversation. He can't have this fragile world hurt you again. He needs to protect you from everything at every cost.

Sometimes when your body is curled next to him recharging peacefully. He'll reminisce about the other Primes, wonder if they've ever felt such a love that bites so sharply at the spark. He wonders if he can really make Cybertron the perfect world for you...

[glorious-spoon]

the moon don't hang quite as high [9-1-1 | Buddie | 1/1]

12k words | explicit buck/tommy break-up | feelings realization | first kiss | first time | emotional hurt/comfort | background eddie/ocs | open ending

After Bobby and Chris leave, Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, tries not to punch his new boss, and worries about Eddie.

the moon don't hang quite as high [On AO3]

Buck and Tommy break up three and a half weeks after Chris leaves for Texas, which is a correlation that he could probably read into if he felt like it.

Correlation, not causation. He took a statistics class once upon a time during his ill-fated attempt at college. Failed it, but a few things did stick. Correlation is not causation. Winning streaks aren't real, and neither are losing streaks. It's all just a glitch of the human brain, finding patterns where there are none. Eddie, dedicated skeptic that he is, would definitely tell him that in the same fondly condescending tone he uses to explain to Buck that jinxes and hexes and the wrath of the gods aren't real, seriously, cursed bracelets and q-word shifts from hell notwithstanding.

He wonders sometimes if Eddie has changed his tune on that now, but he's definitely not going to ask him. There's a Christopher-shaped hole in their conversations these days, and the edges are still sharp. And Buck doesn't want to know if this has finally made Eddie come around to the idea that maybe he's cursed.

Three and a half weeks without Chris. Three weeks of Eddie's increasingly tight-lipped, stiff-shouldered responses to Gerrard's unsubtle jabs. Buck hates watching it. Hates it. Bad enough that Eddie is hollow-eyed and distracted when he's off-shift, glancing at empty corners and open doors like he's expecting Chris to walk in at any minute, but now even work isn't a respite. Buck does what he can to draw the heat, though he's not sure it's actually helping. And then today: Gerrard came across the two of them laughing at a stupid meme on Buck's phone and made a snide remark about fairies flocking together that made the too-rare smile on Eddie's face wither into the same icy stoicism he uses for the cracks about taco trucks and deadbeat dads.

Buck almost spun around and decked Gerrard right on the spot. Might have actually done it, had the bell not gone off when it did.

So it was a good thing that they spent the next four hours hauling hoses at a warehouse fire in East L.A. today, with Gerrard too occupied to needle any of them. No casualties, so he doesn't even have to feel bad for thinking that.

Continue reading on AO3

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[yuri-is-online]

Just had a hilarious thought based on personal experience

Adeueyuu usually have sleepovers on weekends. Today is the first day they include the other first years in the tradition. Everything is going well, by the time everyone is saying good nights the sleepover was a success..... Until

The next day Adeueyuu wake up to grumpy looking first years. The reason? Adeueyuu have full conversations in their sleep! Sometimes it's coherent, sometimes they're not even speaking the same language but it's a guarantee that if one person starts talking the other two will follow. Adeueyuu don't believe it, sure they sometimes sleep talk but to that extent? Surely not. Until their friends offer to record them the next time, much to their mortification.

-Grim OB Anon

You know I had a dream once where I was having lots of fun on a trampoline and learning to use my new fairy wings? I had just got? Then a brick fell out of the sky and hit me in the back of my head. Naturally this killed me instantly and I was pretty upset about it because my head still hurt the next morning. Turns out I was talking pretty loudly in my sleep and my sister got really annoyed so she threw a stuffed animal at my head. Anyway-

I feel like if aduceyuu were making a lot of noise they wouldn't make it to tomorrow morning. They getting screamed at by Lord Malleus's no. 1 stan account right here right now because he needs his beauty sleep full 8 hours. Epel absolutely records it because he thinks it's funny and Jack acts like he is above the whole thing but no he isn't actually Epel, send him that recording so he can make fun of Deuce with it.

[thinkinginpen]

Stop Me Now Part 2

a/n: I had to write part two. I loved the first one so much pairing: dbf!logan x reader w/c: 4.1k warnings: age gap, arguing, angst, being kicked out summary: Your dad found out and it didn't end well. But you had a boyfriend now... you couldn't go back to Logan...

It had been three months. Three months since you last saw Logan. Three months since you walked out the door, leaving behind a trail of heartache and memories.

The absence of the one you loved left an emptiness in your heart like a cold, lonely vacuum. Three months passed like a slow, endless dream, and the memories you had with Logan still lingered like sweet, bittersweet ghosts in your mind.

That feeling of love was evident in every detail. The way he protected you, showing his deep care and concern, and the way he was so passionate and engaged in arguments, even when you disagreed. It was more than just lust or casual interest, it was a deeper connection born from a genuine love.

Despite what Logan had said, the love you shared still felt real and true. Perhaps your father wouldn't have approved, and maybe it seemed wrong on the surface. But none of that changed the authenticity of the love and connection you had with Logan.

At the sound of your dad's knock, your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, and your heart leaped in your chest. "Logan's here," your dad said softly through the door.

You froze for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. The thought of seeing him again after these three months filled you with...

Anger.

You felt a wave of anger and frustration wash over you as you heard your dad's casual announcement. Why was Logan here now, after all these months of silence? Did he think he could just show up unannounced, as if nothing had happened between you?

As you took a deep breath to calm yourself, your mind was racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to see him, to hear his voice and feel his presence once again. But another part of you was still hurt and angry about the way things had ended.

"What does he want?" you asked your dad, trying to keep your tone even.

Your dad hesitated for a moment, sensing your confusion and frustration. "He is over for dinner honey," he responded. "What else? He missed his best friend's, AKA my, soup."

Logan was here for dinner? He was going to be sitting right across from you, just like old times? Of course, your dad never knew what happened between Logan and you so this didn't seem weird to him. To him nothing had changed. Logan was still supposedly "Uncle Wolvie" as far as he knew.

You felt a pang of guilt as you thought about your dad's ignorance. He had no idea how complex your relationship with Logan had been. And now, he was hosting him for a cozy dinner, completely oblivious to the truth.

"I don't know if I can do this," you muttered under your breath. Spending an evening with Logan, pretending everything was normal, was the last thing you wanted to do right now.

As you made your way into the dining room, you saw Logan sitting there, smiling at you, but you could see the thoughts running through his mind. He was thinking the same thing you were… This was going to be a long dinner.

Your dad, oblivious to the tension in the air, was happily setting the table and chatting away. "Ah, there she is," he exclaimed, as you entered the room. "Sit down honey, dinner's almost ready."

You forced a smile in response to your dad's cheerful greeting, trying to act like everything was fine. But as you took your seat across from Logan, you could feel the weight of the unspoken tension heavy in the room.

Logan's eyes met yours for a moment before he quickly looked away. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by your dad's cheerful chattering and the clinking of plates and silverware.

Your dad served the meal, and everyone dug in, but the conversation felt forced and stilted. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Logan, and he seemed equally uncomfortable, occasionally sneaking glances at you but mostly focusing on his plate.

As the meal progressed, your dad tried his best to keep the conversation light and cheerful, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness between you and Logan. The atmosphere at the table remained tense and strained, the elephant in the room impossible to ignore.

Logan looked up from his plate and tried to muster a smile. "Not much," he replied, avoiding your gaze. "Just keeping busy, you know."

Your dad nodded, taking another bite of his dinner. "You know, I was just thinking the other day," he continued, oblivious to the tension in the room. "It's been a while since you've come over for dinner."

Logan shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I've been busy," he said. "But it's good to be here now."

"How about you," Logan nodded to you. "What's new, kid?"

"Not much," you replied, avoiding his gaze. The way he said "kid" felt like a dagger in your heart. It stung to hear him call you that, as if things were still the same between you.

"No exciting adventures?" Logan pressed on, trying to make conversation. But you could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took him to keep his tone light and casual.

"Actually, I have been dating this one guy lately," you lied, forcing a casual tone. "He's been keeping things pretty interesting."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you saw Logan's expression change. A flicker of surprise and hurt passed over his face, and you took a twisted sense of satisfaction in knowing that you had gotten under his skin.

He tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the tension building in his shoulders. "Oh yeah?" he said, feigning indifference. "What's his name?"

You couldn't help but relish the chance to twist the knife further. "His name is Nate," you said, unable to keep the hint of mockery out of your voice. "He's very generous and sweet."

Logan's jaw clenched as he processed your words. The mention of another man, especially one who was supposedly generous and sweet, seemed to bother him. But he tried to hide his emotions, keeping his tone neutral.

"I see," he said, his voice betraying a hint of jealousy. "Sounds like quite the catch."

You couldn't help but smile at his obvious discomfort. Seeing him struggle with his emotions was a small victory, even if it was all based on a lie.

Your dad cleared the dishes and excused himself to do the dishes in the kitchen, leaving you and Logan alone at the table. The silence between you was deafening as you both sat there, each waiting for the other to speak first.

"I should have seen it fuckin coming."

Logan's sudden remark cut through the silence, his frustration and irritation seeping through his words. He had finally broken the stalemate, and his tone was a mix of anger and resignation.

"Please tell me some of it was fuckin real."

Logan's voice was rough with emotion, desperation laced with hurt. Your heart ached at the pain in his words, but you refused to show weakness. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, searching for answers.

"You told me to leave!" You responded angrily.

"You knew I wanted you," he shot back, his voice filled with raw emotion. "You knew how I felt about you. But you still walked out that damned door, and you never looked back."

"I didn't want to," he hissed. "You think I wanted to push you away? I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect me?" You could feel your anger rising, the pain of his words cutting through you. "Don't bullshit me! You were just scared."

"Damn right I was scared," he admitted, his voice suddenly softer. "Every day we were together was a knife in my gut. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stay away from you. And if your dad finally found out… I knew I had to end it."

Your heart ached at his confession, but your anger and hurt still raged inside you. "And you expect me to believe that you actually cared? That it wasn't just some fling to you?"

"You know it wasn't," he replied, his voice low and fierce. "How can you even say that? I loved you, damn it. I still love you."

Your dad froze as he walked back into the dining room, realizing that he had walked in on a very charged conversation. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, and your dad's face was a mixture of shock and concern.

"Logan…" He said slowly, "Logan that is my daughter…"

Logan went pale, the weight of your dad's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. The guilt and embarrassment on his face were obvious, and he fidgeted in his seat, unable to look your dad in the eye.

"How long has this been going on?" your dad asked, his voice betraying a mix of anger and disappointment.

Logan interrupted you, his voice loud and furious. "It's not fucking over!"

Your dad's gaze flicked back and forth between you and Logan, his expression a mix of surprise and anger. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you knew that everything was about to blow up.

"You told me to leave! I fucking left!"

"Not out of choice!" Logan's voice was rising in volume, his frustration and anger reaching a boiling point.

"You walked out without a fight!" he yelled, his emotions getting the better of him. "You gave up on us… on me!"

Your dad held up his hand, trying to calm things down. "Whoa, whoa, let's all take a deep breath-"

"Don't you tell me to take a damn breath!" Logan snapped, his eyes still fixated on you. "You have no idea what you put me through!"

Your dad stepped closer, his voice firm. "Logan, you need to calm down. This is still my house, and I won't have you yelling at my daughter, or at me. Now take a breath and talk to me like a grown-ass man."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Logan shot back, his voice hard and challenging. "Kick my ass? Go ahead and try it."

Your dad clenched his fists, clearly struggling to control his own temper. He was seething with anger, his eyes fixed on Logan. "Logan, you better shut that damn mouth-"

But Logan was beyond rationality. "Or what?" he taunted, his voice full of bravado. "You'll do what? You gonna hit me? Go ahead. I dare you."

"Don't talk to my dad like that Logan! You caused this!"

"I caused this?" Logan exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and hurt. "You think this is all my fault? You're not innocent in this either!"

"I never said I was," you snapped. "But I'm not the one who started this whole mess in the first place."

"You wanted it just as much as I did!" Logan countered heatedly. "Don't sit there and act like you were some innocent victim! I didn't rape you!"

Your dad flinched at Logan's words, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. "Watch your language," he warned, his voice firm.

But Logan was too far gone to listen. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said mockingly. "Should I censor myself for your precious ears? You have no idea what we've been through!"

"Logan stop!"

He ignored you, his anger and hurt fueling his words. "No, I won't stop!" he shouted. "You don't get to act like I'm the bad guy here! You were just as responsible as I was, if not more! I didn't force you into anything! I remember everything! Every sound you made! Every laugh! Every smile!"

Your heart ached as he revealed the depth of his feelings, but you tried to push past the pain. "That doesn't change the fact that you ended it!" you retorted, your voice breaking.

"I had to!" he exclaimed, his voice ragged. "Don't you think I wanted you? I'm hundreds of years older than you! Your dad would have killed me if he found out!"

"I know now Logan. Get out."

Your dad's voice was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. Logan's eyes flicked between the two of you, his anger and frustration warring with his conflicted feelings. He knew he was outnumbered and out of options. With a clenched jaw, he pushed back from the table and stood up.

For a moment, the room was eerily silent. All you could hear was the sound of your dad's heavy breathing. You could feel his disappointment and anger practically radiating off of him.

Finally, your dad spoke, his voice low and controlled. "We need to talk."

Your heart sank at his words. You knew this conversation was not going to be easy. "Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Your dad led you to the couch and sat down heavily. He took a deep breath before speaking. "What the hell are the two of you thinking?" he started, his voice carefully measured.

"I can't even begin to wrap my head around this," he continued, shaking his head in disbelief. "How long has this been going on?"

You couldn't meet his gaze as you answered. "A few months," you mumbled, feeling shame burn in your gut. "But we stopped."

Your dad's eyes widened in shock, his anger and disappointment clear. "A few months?" he repeated, his voice tight. "And you didn't think to tell me? How could you keep something like this a secret?"

You fidgeted under his scrutiny, feeling like a child being scolded. "I… I don't know," you mumbled, your voice small. "I was scared. I knew you would be mad."

"Damn right I'm mad!" your dad exclaimed, his voice rising. "I have every right to be. You've been lying to me, hiding something huge, and with a man old enough to be your father!"

"It's not just that," he continued, his anger still palpable. "Logan. Of all people, Logan. He's like a brother to me, and he was my closest friend… And you two…. How could you?"

You flinched under the weight of his disappointment. You knew you had messed up, and there was no way to make it right. "We… We can't help who we fall in love with," you mumbled, the words feeling hollow.

Your dad let out a humorless bark of laughter. "Love? This isn't love," he spat, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. "This is a mess. A huge, messy, wrong-on-so-many-levels mess. And you two dragged me right into it. It's lust."

Your eyes stung with tears as his words sunk in. "It's not just that," you protested, your voice shaky. "We care about each other-"

"Care about each other?" Your dad's voice was dripping with disbelief. "You don't know the meaning of care. Not at your age. This is just lust, plain and simple. Logan knows better. He should have had the sense to pull away before it went too far."

Your heart ached at his words. You knew he was right that Logan should have known better, but you couldn't help how you felt. "I can't just stop feeling the way I do," you muttered, your voice cracking. "I love him."

"You don't even know what love is," your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You're just caught up in the excitement of sneaking around, of doing something forbidden. It's all a game to you, a thrill. How did it start?"

You winced at his words, knowing deep down that he was partially right. You didn't know what love was. Not really. "It just… happened," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "When he was over… and you left for work… and you told him to take care of me… We…"

"You what?" your dad pressed fiercely, his voice filled with disbelief. "When I left you alone with Logan?"

"You what?" your dad pressed fiercely, his voice filled with disbelief. "When I left you alone with Logan?"

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "We… we ended up on the couch," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And one thing led to another… and we just… kept meeting up… when we could."

Your dad let out a weary sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "So you've been sneaking around right under my nose," he said, his voice weary now. "While I trusted you. While I trusted him."

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling the shame and guilt well up inside you. "I know I messed up, but I can't help how I feel. I love him. I have for a long time-"

Your dad's eyes narrowed at your words. "You have a boyfriend dammit!"

"I know!" you exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes. "But it doesn't change how I feel about Logan. It doesn't change the fact that I love him!"

"You don't even know what love is," your dad repeated, his voice firm. "You're just a kid. You're hormonal. You're impressionable. You're not thinking straight."

"I am!" you protested, tears streaming down your face now. "I do know what love is. I know what I feel for Logan. You can't tell me that my feelings aren't real just because I'm young-"

"I can and I will," your dad shot back. "You don't know the first thing about love. You're just infatuated. It's a crush. It will pass. And when it does, you'll realize how foolish this all was. But in the meantime get out!"

Your heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. "What?" you whimpered, your voice trembling. "You're kicking me out?"

"Damn right I am!" your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You broke my trust. You went behind my back. You thought you could deceive me and sneak around without any consequences. Well, now you're going to face the music. Pack a bag."

Fresh tears streamed down your face as you realized he was serious. You stumbled to your feet and rushed to your room, grabbing a bag and throwing clothes into it, your mind racing. This couldn't be happening.

Your mind was a whirlwind of confused and conflicting emotions as you packed. Anguish, guilt, hurt, anger, and fear all vied for dominance. You could hear your dad’s voice drifting in from the living room, a mixture of anger and disappointment. As you shoved the last of your belongings into your bag, you tried to collect yourself, wiping your tears on your sleeve.

With a final glance around your room, you took a deep breath and walked back into the living room, your heart in your throat. Your dad looked up as you entered. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was set and his eyes were like steel.

"Are you packed?" he asked gruffly, his voice betraying none of the emotion that must have been swirling within him too.

You nodded, unable to speak for fear of bursting into tears again. Your dad’s eyes flicked over your bag, then back to your face. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.

Finally, your dad let out a heavy sigh. "Well, get going then," he said, his voice as neutral as he could manage.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, causing fresh tears to spill down your cheeks. "But… But where am I supposed to go?" you managed to croak out, your voice betraying your fear and confusion.

Your dad's expression softened just a fraction. "That's not my problem," he said, his voice still tense. "You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. I can't have you under my roof when you've been deceiving me like this."

It felt like being stabbed in the heart. You had hoped that, despite his anger and disappointment, he would still have some compassion for you. But his words left no room for doubt. You were being pushed out. "You don’t care what happens to me?" you whispered, your voice small and hurt.

Your dad's face tightened, the lines in his forehead deepening. "Don't put words in my mouth," he snapped. "Of course I care about what happens to you. I’m your dad. But I can't condone what you've done. You've betrayed my trust and disobeyed my rules. You need to learn that actions have consequences."

You nodded, understanding the message. Your tears continued to fall silently as the full weight of your actions crashed down on you. You had crossed a line, and now you were being sent away because of it.

"Go stay with Logan," your dad said, his voice flat. "You like him so much, maybe he can take care of you for a while. See how long your little fantasy world lasts out in the real world."

Shock and disbelief flashed through you at his words. "What?" you exclaimed, your voice rising. "You're sending me to him? After everything that's happened? You can't be serious!"

"No, I'm not joking," your dad said sternly. "You want Logan so badly? Go to him. Let him deal with you for a while. See how he likes having to be responsible for a spoiled, disobedient teenager who has no concept of the real world."

Your heart felt like it was being torn in half. You had never thought it would come to this. "I… I can't stay with him," you protested, your voice thick with tears. "I don't think he even wants me there! And I have a boyfriend!"

Your dad's eyes darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. "You should have thought about that before you started sneaking around behind my back," he snapped. "And Logan can deal with it. He's a big boy. Maybe it's time for him to put his money where his mouth is."

You felt numb as the truth of his words hit you. There was no point trying to argue. You knew your dad had made up his mind. "Fine," you mumbled, your voice hollow. "I'll go."

With that you walked out. It was late and cold. You pulled out your phone and did something you thought you never would again.

"Can you come get me?"

There was a long pause as you waited anxiously, the cold night air stinging your skin. You shivered and hugged your bag closer to your chest, feeling completely alone. Then, finally, your phone buzzed with a reply.

Lo: "Where are you?"

The short message was all that was sent, but it was enough.

You sent him your location and then waited, teeth chattering as the cold seeped into your bones. It felt like an eternity until a familiar car pulled up next to you, the interior warm and inviting.

You opened the door and quickly slid into the passenger seat, the heat of the car like a balm to your freezing body. You avoided looking at the man at the wheel, but you could feel the tension thick in the air.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as the car pulled away from the curb. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, your chest aching with a strange mixture of guilt, shame, and a small flicker of… something else.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the car pulled into a quiet, residential street, coming to a stop in front of a small house. The engine fell silent, but neither of you made a move to get out. You glanced at him, the light of the street lamp casting a dim glow over his features.

He was staring straight ahead, his hands clenching the steering wheel. His jaw was set and his expression solemn. The line of his shoulders was tense, his body taut like a coil ready to spring. It was clear that he had a lot he wanted to say, but was holding himself back.

The silence between you was thick and charged. He finally turned his gaze from the front windshield to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "We need to talk," he said, his voice soft but firm.

A mixture of fear and anticipation fluttered in your stomach, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "Okay," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the rapid pounding of your heart.

He pushed open the driver's side door, gesturing for you to follow. You got out of the car, the cold air hitting you like a slap in the face. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself as you followed him up the path to his front door.

He unlocked the door, holding it open for you. You stepped into the warm, cozy interior, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. The house was small, but comfortable, and you could see glimpses of his life in every corner. Photos on the walls, books on the shelves, a jacket slung over the back of a chair.

He closed the door behind you and then leaned against it, his body blocking the only exit. He didn't say anything, just watched you, his eyes roaming over your face and body as if trying to figure you out.

"Sit."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Part 1 Part 2

🏷️: @fablehaven-rulez

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 36

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 33, part 34, part 35

Steve opens the door for them before they even have a chance to ring the bell. With a large smile meant just for Eddie. They make their way through the door, Eddie immediately in awe about the height of the ceilings, for some reason. They two of them talking, if that’s all they’re doing, instead of making their way to the welcome party.

Wayne gets it. Eddie’s out of the hospital, it’s big news. But there are other people here waiting to see him.

Like the boy standing in the middle the hallway with tears forming in his eyes. Who’s waited for this day since the moment Eddie got hurt. To know that he is really alive. And will continue to be alive.

“Aw, taking pity on me, are you, Steve?” Eddie teases, making Wayne want to groan.

“Shut up.” A great retort, really.

Wayne clears his throat. Breaking the two of them out of the little bubble they’ve formed. He nods his head down the hall, making Eddie finally see Dustin.

No matter how much Wayne is happy to see his boy out of the hospital. Walking. This moment isn’t for him. It’s for Dustin.

“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie breaths out, relieved.

“You’re here,” Dustin says so softly Wayne can barely hear it. But it’s enough that his own tears find their way to his eyes.

Eddie makes his way over to Dustin. Just barely wincing with the pain, but not complaining about it. He’s got other things on his mind in this moment. He balances himself on his crutches just enough to pull Dustin into a hug. Careful to not put all of his weight on the kid.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. “I’m here.”

Wayne blinks away the tear that wants to fall down his cheek. Sparing a look at Steve and seeing he’s in the same boat. Somehow in agreement that this moment isn’t for them to ruin. They could hold off for the time being.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Eddie asks when Dustin pulls back. “And a seat, I can only stand for so long.”

Dustin snorts, wiping his cheeks. “In the living room. They’re really happy to see you.”

Eddie motions for Dustin to lead the way. Following him down the hall and into the living room. Steve and Wayne hang back. Letting their moment be their moment.

Someone knocks on the door, Steve turning around to go answer it.

“Sorry, are we too late?” Nancy asks before stepping in. Robin close behind her.

“No, you’re fine. He just got here.” He looks behind them looking for someone else. “I thought you said Jonathan was going to come?”

Nancy makes a pained face. Starting to say something but Robin beating her to the punch. “He’s avoiding her.”

“It’s not like I blame him,” Nancy defends. “I did break up with him. We’re not going to be friends again that fast. How long did it take up to be friends after we broke up?” she asks in Steve’s direction.

“Almost two years,” he deadpans.

Nancy gets a partially defeated look. “See, we’ll get there eventually.” She turns toward Wayne, hiding the shock that he was standing there the whole time. “Hi, Mr. Munson. It’s great to see you again.”

“Please, just call me Wayne.”

“How did things go at the hospital? Was it all taken care of?”

Wayne nods. “Yes. They came around in the end.”

It was a relief, really, to see the bill come out with zero. All Wayne had to do was sign the papers and set up Eddie’s follow up appointments. His twice a week physical therapy appointment. Get the prescription for his pain killers. Then, they were one their way.

“Good.”

Someone calls Steve from the living room. All of them migrating to the living room. There’re so many voices in that room, Wayne doesn’t know which conversation to pay attention too. What he ends with, though, is the one that Eddie’s in. Talking about the game he loves with the kids. One of them there he doesn’t recognize, but that’s not really surprising.

Sometime later, the bell rings and Steve comes back with an armful of pizza. Setting them along the kitchen island with sodas. Yelling at the kids to use a plate and to eat in the kitchen instead of the living room.

Wayne can’t stop looking at the smile on Eddie’s face. It’s like he looks alive again. Out of the hospital and back to himself. Goofing around with the kids and making jokes. Trying to make it look like he isn’t tripping over his crutches. Still getting used to walking with them.

A smile forms on Wayne’s face. The muscles straining just a bit. Like he forgot how.

Eddie catches his eye. Brows furrowed before he realizes why Wayne’s smiling. For a second, their smiles match before Eddie’s attention is brought away again.

“Steve,” Dustin asks as the rest of the kids migrate back to the living room. An argument about movie choices ensuing. “Do you think I could stay over tonight?”

Steve thinks about it for a second before shrugging. “I guess so. Just check with your mom first.”

“She already said it was ok,” Dustin smirks. Going back to the living room with the rest of his friends.

“Of course she did,” Steve sighs. Going back to cleaning up the dinner.

Robin, Nancy, and Wayne hang back in the kitchen to help clean up. The leftovers get consolidated to one box and placed in the fridge. The plates get washed and put away. They make no move to leave the kitchen. Staying in the quiet instead of the chaos in the other room.

Steve pulls out four beers and hands one to everyone. They fall into casual conversation. Or, the three of them do. Wayne just holds back. Not much of a talker right now.

Eddie comes in from the living room a half hour later. Sitting next to Wayne at the island.

“Can I get one of those?” he asks.

“Depends,” Steve answers before Wayne can outright refuse. “How much and what pain medications are you on right now?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Sorry for trying to keep you alive.” He gives Eddie a once over. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I love them, don’t get me wrong, but they can be a lot all at once.”

“You have no idea,” Robin adds. Leaning halfway across the counter.

Nancy tosses her empty bottle into the recycling. “They’ve always been that way. And then they kept adding more people to the group. I can sometimes here them from my room. When they’re in the basement.”

Eddie winces. “Jesus.”

“No one would judge you if you wanted to turn in early. You’ve had a long day.” Steve hands Eddie a coke since he can’t have any alcohol.

“I might. The doctors woke me up at, like, six this morning for some test to make sure they could discharge me. Been up since then.”

“That’s not that early,” Nancy says.

Wayne snorts. “Maybe for you. Ed will sleep forever if you let him.”

“Like you’re not the same way.” Eddie jabs his elbow into Wayne’s arm.

“Have you seen your room yet,” Robin asks. “Dustin was micromanaging like crazy to make sure it was to your liking.”

“Really?” Eddie has a soft look on his face. “I can’t wait to see it then.”

“He’s staying the night, by the way. If that’s ok with you.”

Eddie yawns. “Yeah, that’s fine. Mind showing me where this room is. I’m beat.”

Steve sets his beer bottle on the counter, waiting for Eddie to stand. Leading him to his room with Wayne in tow.

“This is it. And the bathroom is the door right across from that.”

Eddie turns the handle, stepping in before looking at the posters on the wall. He stops for a moment, looking around. A breath of relief escaping when he finally steps all the way in. Looking like he’s back in a space that’s him.

“They did a good job.”

“Yeah, they did. Ask Dustin about it tomorrow, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

Eddie nods. “I will.”

There’s an awkward silence for a second before Steve starts talking again. “Just a few things I forgot to mention. If you’re going to smoke in the house, do it near a window, but I’d appreciate it if you took it outside. And don’t play music too loud, it triggers my migraines.”

“That all?” Eddie takes a step toward Steve. A playful tone lilting his voice.

Wayne is already getting sick of this.

“Yes,” Steve stutters out. “Just, uh, let me know if you need anything.”

Eddie nods. Reaching out and pulling Steve into a hug. “Thank you for this,” he whispers. “You really have no clue what it means to me.”

Steve returns the hug, tentatively.  “It was the least I could do.”

“That is an understatement, and you know it.” Eddie pulls back, clapping Steve’s shoulder gently before letting go.

“Have a good night,” Steve says on his way out.

Robin is in the hallway now, giving Steve a look. He sighs. “Not now.”

Wayne goes into Eddie’s room to ignore whatever that was going to be. “You going to be alright in here?”

Eddie sits down on the bed. Sighing in relief that he’s not putting weight on his legs. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, my room right above yours. So, if you need anything, yell or something. I might hear it.”

“I will.”

Wayne nods. Just standing in the room. Not quite knowing if he’s ready to leave it. Eddie rolls his eyes, extending his arms.

“Come on, old man.”

With a chuckle, Wayne leans down and hugs his son. They were never huggers, the two of them. Never needed to be. They knew they loved each other and showed it in their own ways. But Eddie is finally home after almost dying. He’s finally getting back to himself again. Everything is returning back to the way it should be.

“You better not be crying,” Eddie jokes. “I won’t be far behind if you are.”

Wayne lets out a wet laugh. Pulling back and just looking at Eddie. “I love you, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie tries to brush it off, but tears gloss over his eyes. “Love you too.”

“Have a good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Heading back to a party that’s dying down. Feeling part of something much larger than he was expecting. A giant family that he’s now roped into.

Who would have guessed that?

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[suhkusa]

It’s dark outside when you wake up from your nap. You feel uncomfortable and weird in your day time clothes, so you slide out of your bed and quickly change. The time spent on your bed is short when you finally check your phone. 

Your eyes widen when you read Osamu’s texts. You quickly type out a response on the lines of “sure,” before you’re sliding on your slippers and heading outside. As you close your door, you can hear the neighbor’s door swing open. 

You can see his figure in the darkness, and you know he can see you as well. The two of you meet on the sidewalk that connects the walkways of your guys’ house.

“Hey, Y/N,” he sounds a bit tense, but it’s the same old Osamu if you had to guess.

“Hey,” you follow him in taking a seat on the curb. A good amount of distance between the two of you, but just enough where you could still make out his facial features in the dead of the night.

“How have you been?” Osamu starts the conversation. He’s staring off into the distance.

“I’ve been good, just finished up finals. You?” 

“Same here, I suppose. And your friends?” 

Your head tilts in thought, “They’re good as well,”

There’s a moment of silence before a question that has been poking at your mind finally works its way out. 

“How come you’re back home? Isn’t there practice for the new season?” 

You can see his eyebrows raise from your peripheral vision. Did you say something wrong?

“Oh, well,” his legs bend so he can hold his knees a bit closer, “I quit the team a while ago,” 

Your eyes finally widen, “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Nono, it’s all good. A lot of people are shocked when I tell them, too,”

“How did Atsumu react?”

The man beside you laughs a bit to himself, “As bad as you’d expect. It was around the time that… you know, happened so he had a lot of emotions pent up already,”

“I see,” is all you’re able to manage. 

You know. None of you ever seem to know what to call that situation. A few moments pass by as the two of you bask in quietness. 

“Do you hate me?” his question catches you extremely off guard. 

“What? No- I could never, ‘Samu,” your eyes are full of worry when you finally look his way. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like that. I care so much for you, even ‘Tsumu. I know I used to scold and fight with you a lot, but it’s because I really cared. You were my bestest friend at one point and it hurt to see you sabotaging your heart like that,”

“I-” Osamu runs a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry, too. For everything. I was childish and I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings for you. Atsumu came up with the idea. The truce, I mean. I just went with it, because on the off chance that you chose him, it meant he wouldn’t be able to have you,” but it happened anyways, you know he wants to say.

“I guess since it’s already out in the open, I can just say it. But I’ve liked you. I still like you. I’m sorry it’s stupid-”

You swiftly cut him off before he can continue, “It’s not stupid, like, at all. I liked you in our third year. I.. I was going to tell you but then you suddenly became distant, so the timing felt bad,”

Osamu sighs before tucking his face into his hands. “Fuck,” you hear him mutter under his breath.

“Is it really too late?” 

If you were caught off guard earlier, you didn’t know what to call this gut-wrenching feeling now. You already know the answer, but you’re scared. You feel like you’ve already screwed up so much, that any little thing you do next will just end in pieces.

“It’s not,”

You see him peek up at you from where he was looking down, urging you to continue. 

“I just… Just give me time, alright?”

All he does is nod in response.

And for once in your life, it feels the universe is finally reassuring you that it’ll be okay. 

BOTH AIN’T SH!T ( OSAMU VER.) — TIME

PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

NOTES.

osamu was falling asleep when y/n texted back but he jumped up when he heard the notif

his phone’s volume button is broken from throwing it after he texted

atsumu cried when he was fighting with osamu because too much was happening at the time (part of him felt guilty too)

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[vizishereig]

Day 1: Anniversary

oh, when I tell you I speedran this...

This.

Luis's first time seeing Leon is when he's in the company of his guard. He's impossible to miss, blue eyes bright and steady as he converses with the Captain on some sort of issue plaguing the city.

Luis isn't the only one to stop and stare, most of the street going still as the guard walks on. Whispers break out among the masses, and he half listens as he watches. He can't drag his gaze away from the way the sun catches in his hair, turning blond locks gold.

"He's out again? It's rare to see him in the city," one passerby whispers to another, as if he'd hear them.

"I've heard the king is making him interact with the people more. Getting him ready for the crown," their friend whispers back.

"I think he interacts with us just fine," the first one sniffs, as if defending his honour.

"Hah, sure. He's horrible at talking to people, but keep up with your little crush on Prince Leon. He wouldn't look twice in our direction, if the rumors are to be believed."

They move away before Luis can hear more.

He hasn't stopped looking at the mortal, the price, apparently. And that's why he sees him stiffen and perk up, looking through the crowd until his eyes land on him.

Hm. Interesting.

And this…

Sun tanned hands run through golden hair, as he sings an old lullaby that his caretaker used to sing to him when he was a young godling, still learning about the world and domain he'd inhereit.

Leon had taken a while to warm up to him. At least, in a more human way.

Luis has never been fond of the way mortals treat him, the inherent reverence. It gives one a complex, one that most of his other gods have.

Leon, though. He got past that quickly, eager to joke with him, laugh at the times when Luis trips on uneven stones (purposefully, to get that smile out of him), and let Luis hold him. Not only lets him, but seeks it.

Luis holds it all close to his chest, cradles it in his heart as he leads the sun across the sky. Focused, focused, even when he was traversing the ground during the day. The world needs to be safe, whole, unscathed.

All for his personal sun, his light.

Luis cares for the sun, two times over. And he relishes the duty, holds it close.

Luis is aware he'll live forever.

Luis is also, so, so painfully aware that Leon will not.

He's not sure what he'll do then.

And this.

The day comes too early. Much too early.

Maybe that was why the others had been giving him sad looks as he walked the halls at night. Maybe that's why they would go quiet when he entered a room. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He examines those moments from his room, replaying those days again and again and again.

Seeing Leon die, again and again and again.

Watching the discus hit Leon's chest, ribs breaking, flesh splitting.

Again. And again. And again.

And this.

The day is overcast. Clouds crowd the sky, blocking out the sun. Good.

It's the anniversary of his passing.

A century and he still feels it as acutely as the day he held him in his arms, bleeding out.

Luis is aware the fates aren't kind, but he hasn't had to feel it. Now he has.

And feel it, he does.

The summers are scorching and last longer than they should. He's summoned to court, has been every year for the last century, told to let the seasons change. He listens.

The winters are freezing, the sun hiding away. Humans die, but he turns a blind eye. He'd let the world hurt, feel the same pain that pulses in his chest with every second gone by.

He is angry. He is sad. He is missing his light.

His light, which was taken by one of his kind. A god. His kind, one who was so greedy. that he deemed it better that his light be dead than not his. His kind.

He'll make peace, eventually. He must. But the world will suffer with him a bit longer. Suffer until he is better.

And if he's never better?

He doesn't know, then.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 10

Part 9

Last time: Eddie and Nancy finish their long conversation on a heavy note

~~~

“Dustin, your phone’s going off,” Eddie shouts, hands shoved into the soapy dish water. He cocks his head around and watches the phone vibrate spasmodically across the table for the third time in twenty minutes. The only sounds filtering through the two-story brownstone are the phone and Dustin’s off-key singing in the upstairs shower. 

He sighs, grabbing the clean dish towel to dry his hands with as he crosses the kitchen to silence the damned thing. Dustin invited Eddie to temporarily move in with him while Suzie was out at Boston teaching a seminar for the semester. It’s been a nice change of pace since the paparazzi found the temporary rental he was staying in.

Eddie’s apology to Dustin had been quite long. Dustin’s swift forgiveness was shorter than Eddie expected. It almost hurt to be forgiven so quickly, but when it became clear it was conditional on never talking about Steve– or even Robin– Eddie couldn’t argue. It’s a fair compromise. Whatever it takes to have an honest to god friend again.

So when Eddie picks up Dustin’s phone, he genuinely considers throwing that friendship out the window. The screen says ‘King Badass’ surrounded by different sportsball emojis, overtop a picture of the two of them leaned up against the classic 1980’s maroon beemer. Steve’s got one arm wrapped tight around Dustin’s neck, a mint chocolate chip cone on the ground at his feet and a strawberry cone in Dustin’s outstretched hand. 

The picture must be relatively new. Eddie’s never seen that navy sweater, or those aviators before. His smile is as wide and gorgeous as he remembers, and Eddie only wishes he could poke his fingers into the picture and pluck the sunglasses off that pretty face to see those golden, hazel eyes look back at him. 

Before he knows what’s happening, before he can stop himself, before he can even think about anything at all, Eddie swipes right and hits the speaker button. He’s silent, frozen, and scared out of his mind as he listens so, so intently to the sounds of Steve breathing on the other end of the line. Knuckles white, Eddie turns the volume up as high as it goes and closes his eyes. The soft breaths wrap around him in the same familiar way an old, oversized sweatshirt does on rainy days.

Then a lot of things happen, very suddenly and very fast.

“Henderson? What the fuck, man– are you going to say anything?” Steve’s voice screams out, causing a tingling in his right ear where he’d had the phone smashed to his head. 

Eddie gasps, involuntary and ragged.

A pause. 

Then, “... Dustin?” Steve asks, knowing full well the person on the other end of the phone is not, in fact, Dustin.

A loud, indignant, ear-screeching squawk from the stairs stops Eddie from responding. Dustin’s standing there, across the room wrapped in a towel and dripping onto the hardwood, glaring at Eddie like he’s a cat with his hand in the cereal bowl. Which, he sort of is.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie’s not sure who he’s talking to when he says it, but he thinks it applies universally in this particular situation.

Dustin shouts, “put it down!” at the same time Eddie hears the faintest whisper through the phone.

“Eddie?”

He’s never heard his name uttered the way Steve breathes it in this moment. It’s a prayer at a funeral. Flowers at a graveyard. The edge of a cliff. A haunted house. It’s everything and it’s too fucking much. 

“Stevie–”

The phone’s snatched away from him as Dustin storms back upstairs, turning it off speaker. 

Heart pounding, ears ringing, head in a fucking fog, he swallows the acid flooding his mouth and moves back to the sink on autopilot, shoving his hands into the hot water to keep from pulling at his hair. Dustin's muffled bickering echoes down the stairs– he thinks he picks out something like won’t let you– but can’t make out the words.

He hums the melody he’s been toying with just to drown out the argument. It hurts in the way everything about Steve hurts, an ache he’s slowly but surely getting used to. 

Almost thirty minutes later, Dustin leaves with a quick ‘be back soon’ shouted over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him before Eddie can respond. He’s not sure where he’s gone to, but it feels obvious in the set of Dustin’s hunched shoulders and the redness in his eyes when he comes home again hours later. When Eddie asks if he’s alright, Dustin says he’s fine. 

They don’t talk about the phone call.

~~~

Part 11 coming soon!

Tag List!!!

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@stripey82

[scoobydoodean]

i think even though cas was in there stealing the journal, i think he was trying to legitimately convince dean to come to his side, because he does it the Very next episode (although he doesnt seem to realize that hes being manipulative about it..im not trying to infantilize him i just remember him being confused/surprised when dean points out that crowley gave him the same line)

like i do think theres a bit of double think in how castiel acts and behaves and he doesnt seem to grasp the emotional consequences of his actions, especially in this season.

like he thinks hes saying "if you trust me (please trust me) i can get crowley to release lisa and ben, because you wont be a threat anymore to his plan"

but dean hears "if you want lisa and ben back, you'll have to fall in line"

thats not to say dean is wrong for hearing it like that, but castiel really seems to be struggling with communication because he did this all for dean (in his mind) and once it's all over everything will be fine, lucifer and michael will stay in their cage, and dean and lisa will be safe at home.

but at this point hes killed too many and hurt too many people to turn back so when dean pleads for him to back down hes hearing dean say "im fine with risking the apocalypse again, and i cant trust you to do a plan that you are certain will work" when dean is just worried about another eve slipping through

its just very delightfully complex (imho) i dont really have a conclusion

Cas definitely wanted Dean on his side. He didn't need to wake Dean up or have a conversation with him to get the journal. He chose to wake him up and have that conversation because he desperately wanted Dean not to think badly of him. It's just hilarious that at the same time, he was also like. There to steal shit. When he saw Dean sleeping on that couch, he just couldn't help himself. He wanted to talk to Dean.

Trying to get Dean on his side was important to Cas because he loves Dean and values their friendship, but it was also important to him because Cas had, to some extent, tied his self-image to everyone else's perception of him over the whole season. He lies to all of his friends—Sam, Dean, Bobby, Balthazar, Rachel. He lies to the Winchesters because he wants a place he can come to where someone still recognizes him as the person he used to be and not the person he is becoming. Crowley puts this best:

CROWLEY: The big lie -- the Winchesters still buy it. The good Cas, the righteous Cas. And long as they still believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I got news for you, kitten. A whore is a whore is a whore.

This is a period where Cas was doubting everything and wrestling with moral quandaries. He sees his own actions as monstrous, but also believes that monstrosity is necessary. He and Dean have a conversation about this very early on in 6.06, after their last interaction in 6.03 had Cas causing a child excruciating pain to gain information.

DEAN What happened to you, Cas? You used to be human, or at least like one. CASTIEL I'm at war. Certain... regrettable things are now required of me.

I've talked about how the title of this episode, "You Can't Handle The Truth", shows Cas's hand in that he doesn't believe anybody else can handle the dirty work. He knows it makes him look bad and that's why he lies about it—to protect his image.

The whole of 6.20, he's struggling, but he's doing it alone. To his friends, he presents his actions with surety—telling Dean insistently that Cas knows what he's doing and that there's nothing broken about his plan, while he says privately praying to his father:

Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me. You have to give me…A sign. Give me a sign. Because if you don’t…I’m gonna ju– I’m gonna do whatever I… Whatever I must.

And to himself about working with Crowley:

I asked myself, “what was I doing with this vermin?”

And while betraying Crowley briefly by killing demons Crowley sent after the Winchesters:

For a brief moment…I was me again.

Sam and Dean and Bobby's belief in Cas's goodness (that he was himself) was so important to Cas that he was spying on them all of 6.20 despite his alleged busy schedule just to check in and see what they were thinking about him. And when they did trust him again for that brief moment, he felt relief, but also knew it was all an illusion and felt shame and guilt about it:

Wonders never cease. They trusted me again. But it was just another lie. 

The same discomfort and shame seeps off Cas in 5.17 when Sam and Dean thank him for saving them, while Cas knows Astropos was only after them because of him, and that if they understood the full picture, their feelings about what he'd actually done to "save" them would be very very different. He knows he's receiving praise he doesn't deserve, so the esteem they place on him is hollow.

On the other hand, I do think Cas grasps the emotional consequences of his actions for the most part. That's why he lied the whole season—because he was afraid of the fallout among every single person he knew and even more as the lies stacked and stacked. He knew none of them would agree with what he was doing. But the consequences with Sam and Dean also extend a little deeper than Cas thought they would, and that's what wounds him the absolute most, I think. I don't think Cas expected Sam to question whether Cas intentionally left his soul in The Cage, or for Dean to question whether or not Cas was involved in the plot to kidnap Lisa and Ben in 6.21. He is genuinely and deeply wounded when his care for them is essentially questioned at the very foundation and it leaves him feeling betrayed in his own way.

The thing is, Cas's privately held doubts still do not match the picture he presents to the Winchesters even after he is exposed. Privately, Cas is starting to see the pride and hubris underlying some of his choices:

I wish I could say I was clean of pride at that moment…

I see now that I was prideful. And in all likelihood, I was a fool.

I see now that was arrogance…Hubris 

Privately, Cas reveals that his motives aren't as pure as he presents them to be:

I had no choice. I did it to protect the boys. Or to protect myself. I-I don’t know anymore.

Hiding…Lying…Sweeping away evidence. And my motives used to be so pure.

Crowley had a point, of course. My interest was conflicted. I still considered myself the Winchesters’ guardian.

But to the Winchesters? He says "I did it all for you" and "I did it to protect you. I did it to protect all of you" and "It's not broken". He doesn't let them see his doubts, because he might crumble under them—and because sunk cost fallacy and his own pride won't allow him to accept being questioned even by his closest friends. In other words, he continues to lie, and after the big reveal, Dean can see right through him.

CASTIEL: I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you. DEAN: Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me.

Cas's pride also comes out in this conversation at night in Bobby's house.

DEAN: I'm not gonna logic you, okay? I'm saying don't...Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it. Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family -- that you are like a brother to me. So, if I'm asking you not to do something...You got to trust me, man. CASTIEL: Or what?

Dean says he isn't going to logic Cas. Bobby and Sam and Dean already tried that earlier that day, Balthazar will also try later, and it doesn't register. Dean puts all of the technical arguments aside and is trying to say (coupled with his earlier assertions) "I know you think you have to do this, but all of us can see you're going off the deep end and even you know that deep down. Please trust us on this." But Cas's response is "Or what?" He turns it into a battle of wills, then adds, "You can't stop me. You're just a man", which is also a dogwhistle for Dean when dealing with angels, who repeatedly over the course of the show, have called him a monkey, a dog, a pet, and other things to express the idea that he is beneath them as a justification for using and hurting him. It immediately turns them against each other because Cas feels like Dean is basically calling him crazy and is offended by the idea that he doesn’t know what he’s doing (even though he has his own private doubts, because at this point his self-image hinges on turning out to be right). Dean is seeing the angelic sense of superiority come out—something he’s far more familiar with than he’d like to be—something common to the angels who have used and manipulated and threatened him and acted entitled to him… and coupled with all the questions about exactly how involved Cas was in using Dean to get alphas over the course of the season and how he knows Cas used him in “The French Mistake”? It doesn’t paint a pretty picture for Dean.

In addition to their profound bond, I think Dean saying, "Cas, we can fix this!" and Dean being Cas's defender the entirety of 6.20 is also why Cas comes to him at the end of the episode. Dean is the weak link in the chain at the time (that completely changes in the next episode when Lisa and Ben are kidnapped). But Dean is also so devastated about all the faith he had in Cas's honesty being crushed, and he's reliving the demon blood arc in some sense, and he's probably reevaluating what he felt when Cas used him in "The French Mistake" and what exactly was going on in "My Heart Will Go On" and how—when Crowley forced him and Sam into doing his bidding, Cas knew it and he let it happen—he let it happen because he wanted the alphas. Not only did Cas know Crowley was using them—he went to great lengths to cover up his involvement and keep them off Crowley's tail. Cas's speech in the following episode demanding Dean's trust again is not only ill-timed while Dean is worried sick about Lisa and Ben—it's full of lies and half truths and even a little shit slinging that Dean knows isn't fair and that is deeply reminiscent of Sam's speech full of falehoods about trust in 4.21.

On Cas's side, I think you're spot on about his lack of cognizance on how he comes across when he says:

CASTIEL: I came to tell you that I will find Lisa and Ben, and I will bring them back. Stand behind me, the one time I ask.

I don't think Cas meant to suggest that the first statement depends on the second one (we can judge as much when he heals Lisa at the end of the episode) but that's absolutely how it comes across.

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[discordiansamba]

fun fact! you've heard that silver and Balmeran crystals can burn Keith, but do you know what else can burn him? that's right! Marmoran blades!

Keith has such complex feelings about the knife his mother left for him. It's the only thing he has from her, and he can't touch it without it burning him. It could do worse to his dad, but he still held onto it like a cherished object. He always told him that his mother left it behind to protect them, but how can it do that if it only hurts them both?

(Was his mother an exorcist? It's not like he can ask around.)

And yet he keeps it, even after his father disappears. Sometimes it even does help keep him safe. He keeps its hilt tightly wrapped, both to hide the strange glowing stone, and so that he can safely hold it. It's why he starts wearing gloves. The knife can hurt him, but it's important. He doesn't want to let it go.

(Years later, he'll face down masked aliens wielding identical blades. They burn just as much.)

[9x07]

how many times do we need to learn as people that irony and hyperbole can be harmful because 'jokes' aren't easily distinguished from genuine thoughts and feelings until we stop rewarding people for speaking or posting about violence

like even if you're joking/don't actually believe that/think whoever you are insulting is bad/immoral/fictional therefore deserves it - ad hominem attacks always do more harm to the people who share those characteristic then the individual you intend to cause harm to or discredit

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

[xoshepard]

fucking vindication man

my sister was just minding her business in the basement eating breakfast and my stepdad came down and asked "why do you have the light on" and she was like "so i can see?" and the thing about my stepdad is that he's incapable of softening his tone (and will pretend he doesnt understand that his tone is aggressive even though he can understand when YOUR tone is aggressive/rude) so even an innocuous question like that sounds like an attack, so my sister's response was also super subdued and irritated. this isn't the first time an exchange like that has happened but it was the first time that he kinda hesitated and was like "wait what did i just say that upset you?" and she started to speak like she was going to explain, then thought better of it and just said "it's nothing"

LIKE YEAH DUDE. WHEN YOU CREATE AN ENVIRONMENT WHERE PEOPLE FEEL LIKE THEY CONSTANTLY HAVE TO EXPLAIN THEMSELVES TO YOU AND AT THE SAME TIME THEY CAN'T BE COMFORTABLE BRINGING UP THINGS YOUVE DONE OR SAID TO UPSET THEM WITHOUT YOU JUST ARGUING WITH THEM TO JUSTIFY HOW THEYRE WRONG FOR BEING UPSET AND YOUVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG, THEN PEOPLE ARENT GONNA FUCKIN TALK TO YOU. ITS SO SIMPLE.

[slippery-minghus]

augh i just can't stop thinking about itttt