#i honestly still sort of struggle sometimes to convince myself of some things i *know* i should believe i know are right. idk.

[itgomyway]

I've been into Non-Dualism for a while now, though not extensively. Previously, I was deeply involved in the Law of Assumption community. Then, I stumbled upon ND. It felt like a breath of fresh air, so liberating. I've consumed all sorts of ND content, from every nook and cranny of the internet. It's been a bit of a rollercoaster, this journey of slowly "detaching from ego".

Recently, something happened that sent me on a over-consumption, while trying to convince myself that "hey, it's okay". Honestly, I'm tired of reading without a clear sense of what steps to take. I've tried all sorts of techniques to loosen the grip of ego, but my mind keeps circling back to these issues, almost like they're haunting me. I get it, it's ego at play, but the anxiety attacks still hit hard.

I hope I'm not coming across as too demanding, I'm just genuinely seeking guidance in the best way possible. What more can I do?

There's so much conflicting advice out there. Some say understanding isn't crucial, it's just the ego making a fuss. Others suggest a slow process of self-inquiry, questioning what the ego is asserting and coming back to our core. It's left me feeling a bit bewildered and frankly, drained. I'm at a loss, just wanting a reset that brings some peace.

I get that Non-Dualism is supposed to be about simplicity and shouldn't bring about these feelings. But right now, I feel like I've got a full plate. My mom's financial situation hasn't been great, and I'm really anxious about her having to bear too much of a burden. Letting go of the desire to change my current circumstances is terrifying. What if letting go only means things stay the same or get worse? The pressure to make a change feels like it's closing in.

When people say "let it be" or advise to step back from actively trying to fix things, I'm left scratching my head. How do you navigate challenges by just letting them be? I feel defeated and just want to feel free. I'm scared about what the end of the week, or worse, the end of the month, might look like if I'm still stuck in this uncertainty. I've got a decent grasp of these concepts on an intellectual level, but when the day passes and I whisper "I AM" to myself, I struggle to truly feel it. It's like I'm held back by the limitations of this physical form.

I'm on the edge of giving up on chasing after achievements. Ego sometimes feels like this looming, scary presence. What I really want is to shed all of this weight, be kinder to myself, and find a path that leads to genuine freedom. What's the next step? What should I do? I want to stop trying, or figuring out.

Thanks a ton for taking the time to read this through. I've been following your blog and I really appreciate the kindness you bring to your community. Wishing you a great day ahead.

love im afraid in all of that reading, you missed the entire point. the point of non dualism is to free you from the human condition. you dont use non dualism to navigate the human condition it doesnt exist in the first place.

remember everything is you. you are consciousness. everything else is fake and its only the ego that deems it as real.

ignore it. its not real. who cares?

that’s how i live “life”. i dont confirm nor deny anything real or fake whenever circumstances arise cuz its ALL FAKE. the only existing thing is me. even when i think about “me” its not even “me” doing it. its the ego. the ego answers the question of who you are while you as CONSCIOUSNESS know what you are. the ego cant really grasp this so i don’t see a reason in trying to make it

i picture it as inner child = ego “grown up” = consciousness. the inner child is scared and confused. just wants to be safe and do any and everything to be safe, even if they think they know what theyre doing or that theyre in control. its not. its fake. be the adult in the situation and take control. understanding the ego is probably throwing a temper tantrum so let it cry itself to sleep. everything they thought that was soooo important they’ll forget when they wake up. so its not real anyway. you can relax you got this <3

[mdhwrites]

Ten Years of Writing

February 2014, I made my fimfiction account. At the end of that month, I published my first fanfic. It has been ten years since that fateful decision that feels like it changed so much for me. I kind of want to go back through my memories, just talk about some of the highlights (going to save that for a different blog frankly. It is ten years of material and almost three hundred stories combined, potentially that many with the very few I've deleted over the years) and what that's meant to me but I know a lot of people might ask: What do you have to show for it?

Well, skill wise, I would probably argue that writing is the only trained skill I have and I am IMMENSELY proud of how far I came, especially while knowing that I haven't really had the same support to grow as for the past half decade that I did before then.

I have genuinely moved people and for some even convinced them to seek help they may not have otherwise by sharing my experiences in a more palatable format than simply writing them in a blog would. I have a lot of reasons for why I never will take down Crises Girlfriends from Ao3 and the comments are a big part of that. It's a reminder of the power of writing and creation, something that's easy to lose sight of amongst popularity and hopes of financial success.

On that front though? Amazon lets me check lifetime sales now and I've sold 793 books. It's not even just because of friends buying a glut of material because while I may have 19 books out, Sarafune Monster Preserve Vol. 1, my second ever book, written when I was barely 21, holds over two hundred of those copies. Daughters of Dusk Vol. 1 has half those numbers, though funny enough it does have have more reviews. Frankly, for an independent author who has always struggled to find his audience, those numbers make me genuinely very happy. Also, number five is Ruff Secrets at 33 copies, nineteen of which are physical which I DID NOT REALIZE and honestly makes me realize that that book has done better than I thought it did. Crises Girlfriends is admittedly the lowest one sales wise at 4 copies in almost a year of being out. That's just how it goes sometimes.

Buuuut even for the books without a bunch of sales, I can hold my head high because Ruff Secrets is also literally the only book of mine with a below 4 star rating, at least of the ones with ratings which is the majority of them. That's a feather I can pin in my cap. A testament that even back when I was twenty and published my first work, Diane and Kat: The Bound Bands, I was right to have the confidence I did as a storyteller. To believe my work was commercial quality.

I also still have people in my life I'd never want to be without because of my writing. Heck, I don't know where I'd be without one of them as I lived on their couch for almost two years while dealing with my declining health. Others have helped give me guidance while even more have made sure I never believe I'm alone and I've even been able to help them back. As one friend would say: I was once their Luna and changed what was supposed to be a suicide note into a story that made a lot of people on Fim open up with personifications of their own troubles. I don't know if I'd have found communities where I would make those sorts of connections if not for my writing.

It also still gives me what feels like a purpose to be here. A thing that is mine that I can comfort myself with, even while dealing with my broken brain. While I may be desperate for validation and want success, neither would stop me from continuing to write. My brain is too jumbled a mess of ideas for me to ever stop and it keeps those ideas locked down pretty tightly. Like hey, you know how I mentioned two series at the beginning? Yeah, well, I can still tell you my plans for them and could pick them back up someday. It's been four years since the last Daughters of Dusk book came out but I still want to eventually return to it since it only had two more books before it was done. I don't want to leave it permanently unresolved, even if I've never quite gotten the energy to finish it.

Which does bring me to being honest and admitting that the past ten years haven't all been positive. I've had to fight a growing resentment towards others success as my own jealousy festered. I've had to deal with crushing failure after crushing failure (my fifth best book of 19 makes up for a thirtieth of my sales. I have had a LOT of very quiet launch weeks) and the toll that's taken on me isn't unreasonable. I've multiple times had my brain break on the idea of publicly posting anything, leading to one offs being published and me being a wreck for the rest of the day as my brain begs for it to go as well as it perceives it should.

And yet I've still never stopped. Nor do I ever plan to. It may be a year and a half since my last finished project but I know I'll get through this. I mean, there has been a year during this where I literally wrote like two chapters the entire year. This past year and a half still say probably a couple novellas worth of words out of me, just never to one thing. I could still go back to plenty of those works and continue them. There's at least one I would really like to just because I commissioned the art for it way before I was done writing it which was admittedly a bit of a lesson.

I hope to keep learning, keep getting better and try to share some of the insights I've learned with all of you. So here is to ten years and to many more decades to come hopefully. See you next tale.

[ghostcrows]

That being said I do wanna talk about something here because I feel like people here might get it more than other places

I'm really sort of grappling with I guess actually accepting that I heavily exhibit BPD symptoms and have for years, like to the point that regardless of my feelings toward that diagnosis and who gives it out and their reasons for it - and despite my reservations toward any type of official diagnosis -AND despite feeling like I prematurely diagnosed myself as a teen and then avoiding the label altogether - I just want to treat the symptoms so that things can get better.

It's very isolating. I feel things incredibly intensely. It doesn't just go away it rattles my whole body physically for days or weeks. When I get attached to people it becomes unbearable for me and eventually, almost inevitably, for that person too

I struggle with what I think must be splitting, where...I think it's not quite as black and white as splitting is presented as where I absolutely hate someone or I absolutely love someone, but it's very close. Usually it's this conflicting mess of both at the same time, this very ugly place where resentment (founded or unfounded) meets complete idolization. It's not a position anybody deserves to be put in and I try to keep it to myself but, it's hard to hide intense feelings. People can usually tell when you're acting moody and weird even if you think you've got a good handle on it. And its incredibly overwhelming

And of course I've got abandonment issues lol...kind of the root of the whole thing right...and of course it becomes self fulfilling prophecy you know how that is...very annoying. Very unfair

And...I can be meaner than I like to think I'm capable of...it's usually a subtle thing but that's probably honestly worse. It's the kind of mean where I can even convince myself I'm not really being mean..but I am. Like. I'm certainly not being nice...and it comes from honestly usually just not knowing how to communicate that I'm in some weird fucking mood. When you tell people you're in a mood a lot of the time they're like oh whats up what's wrong and sometimes yeah you can talk about it to feel better but sometimes there's just nothing. You're just in some damn ass mood. It has not much to do with anything. And when you're in those moods it's hard to be around people and not be irritable and nasty. But it's also hard to be alone with it. And if you isolate you start to feel like a monster who needs to be locked up so that you don't hurt anybody. It's difficult to constantly be in some weird headspace that alienates you from other people.

And im impulsive in like...not quite as extreme ways as severe BPD but I have been there before where I was doing some of those things. It's more things like sending people 20000 texts a second or just like Reacting without stepping away and then having things immediately escalate. Getting to where I'm angry enough that I break things and i hurt myself. Not being able to sit with an unpleasant feeling. Not being able to handle criticism or rejection well

All of that to say... that it is a struggle and it's something I'm looking for good resources on. I'm trying out some self help DBT workbooks to see if that does anything for me. I don't know if I want to try CBT again I don't know how much it helped before but I know most therapists do CBT now ... I keep hearing about EMDR as some magical fuckin miracle treatment but I still barely know what it is. I'm not currently interested in being on medications but I'm not 100 percent against it either. Im at a crossroads with the very idea of therapy where I do think I need it but I also don't know how much it can realistically do for me or if I can find somethijg or someone that works for me. And also I can't afford it rn lol.

So um, if you struggle with this sort of stuff too just like feel free to DM me because I'd really like to talk about it with people who get it. And if you have anything that has helped you with these types of symptoms please feel free to share it. I will look into it

[pullingheavendown]

a year ago, i was relying on the promises a friend who'd offered to help me get somewhere safe because what we'd learned was that our traffickers were real, and still in contact.

this friend was someone who, in retrospect, had spent years making us dependent on them, and it was the kind of crisis where their failure to actually step up and act had devastating consequences. had to leave the city. had to leave our job. started renting a room in a basement two timezones away and gave up everything, except the cats. like we just fled the instant it became clear we had to.

this friend had been struggling for a while. it doesn't really matter what with. months prior to everything going to shit, though, i'd gone to dinner with her and another mutual friend. that mutual friend and i basically convinced her to try therapy, because we were both worried about her, and neither of us were in a place to keep showing up the way we had been for her. she needed to fix her shit, basically, and we tried as gently as possible to be like, please do that for your own good. she agreed to. prided herself on her self-awareness, even.

a couple months later she sits down for lunch. tells me that worrying about me ruined her life. that she only went to therapy for my sake, so she could continue caring for me, all of this flip-the-tables, reversal bullshit. i was the burden, i was the problem, i had literally ruined her life because mine was falling apart. and looking back it's just classic darvo. i was no longer there to be her little sad support animal all the time, or whatever i was to her. some sort of pitiable thing she'd talk down about whenever i wasn't around. i really don't know. everyone told me she was infatuated with me, abusive, manipulative, and i never saw it because she had convinced me this was what "normal friendships" were. and then she left me so high and dry that i lost everything when i believed i could rely on her.

she, once, stood on the street corner after i'd asked her for help in all of this, after the hospital and around the time i was realizing she never intended to help me at all. and she told me, to my face, that the reason she hadn't helped me was because i would probably end up leaving the city if i realized what i wanted in life, and that would make her sad. so she didn't.

this came from a conversation earlier, months earlier, where i'd been talking about how excited i was that therapy had been working and helping me. that for once i didn't feel trapped by other people's decisions and wants for me. that maybe i could build a life based on what i wanted, and i'd never had that before, and i was so excited to learn who i was, could be, what i wanted, where i wanted to be. and she took from that conversation that i'd be willing to move cities some day, away from her, that me getting better and learning what i want in life was some sort of existential threat to her.

(she later claimed she's like this because she's undiagnosed autistic and lmao it was honestly the final straw in me going no contact with her. the audacity of blaming being that toxic and manipulative on just being kind of on the spectrum somewhere. i cannot deal.)

i'm really just putting this here because i have to remind myself of this, sometimes. because i miss my old life so much, or feel like such a failure, that i miss something about it. i miss being able to work, i miss feeling competent, i miss living somewhere i could have a social life, i miss everything she knew i would lose if i had to flee because she would remind me of it any time i asked for help.

i just can't imagine being that level of, whatever that is. self-absorbed. that your so-called best friend of a decade says they might be happy, some day, and so you have to sabotage everything they had in case you lose them.

so, of course, you lose them.

what the fuck else could you possibly expect when i was willing to chew my own limb off to get out of there. what world were you living in. i can't help but sit here and wonder some nights, just what fucking world were you living in all those months.

and then i don't miss you anymore.

[rubyleaf]

Went through my blog again for the funsies and discovered an old, old tag game from 2016. And boy, am I shaking my head at it. Not only is 17-year-old me hilariously and stubbornly convinced she's straight, she's also very self-deprecating and generally not in a good place.

So I thought: why not answer these questions again, over seven years later, just to see how things have changed?

So here goes. The update.

MOST RECENT:

Drink: Water! I have a glass next to me right now and I'm staying nice and hydrated :) Phone call: Mom, earlier this afternoon, to make sure I'm still healthy and haven't died from acute Moved Out And Living Unsupervised Disease. Shockingly, I'm alive and well. Text: Dad, joking about the Berlin lioness boar thing. I still refuse to believe it was a boar BTW. I don't know what it was, but those pictures do NOT look like a boar.

Song you listened to: Saosin – "You're Not Alone" Time you cried: You know, I genuinely don't remember. Might've been weeks ago. I barely cry anymore these days, except from laughter or the occasional tearing up over a heartwarming scene in a show.

Dated someone twice: No, and unless the circumstances were very special, I wouldn't. If the ship has sailed, it has sailed for a reason. Been cheated on: Single, thriving, in my lane, cannot be cheated on if I don't have a partner. Peace and love on Planet Earth. Lost someone special: Lost touch with many friends over the years. Staying in touch is still hard. But honestly, some of them turned out to not be that special after all in the first place and a lot have stayed too, so really, it's fine. Been depressed: Nah. Been drunk and thrown up: Still don't like alcohol, still don't drink ✌️ Your three favourite colours: Purple! And pink, and the third one…maybe red!

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

Made a new friend: So many. So so many. Fallen out of love: Yep! Laughed until you cried: Just this week alone! Met someone who changed you: I think so! Found out who your true friends are: Yes. And to the people who turned out not to be—thanks for making it easier to watch you leave right now. Found out someone’s talking about you: In the "bringing up my existence" way? Yes. Badly? No—someone probably did, but not my problem.

EXTRAS

How many people from your fb list do you know irl: What Facebook? Do you have any pets: Not at the moment. Hard to keep any in a dorm room. I'd like to maybe get a small dog someday though! Do you want to change your name: Not anymore. When I was little I used to hate my name because everyone kept misspelling or mispronouncing it, but now I like it even if people still get it wrong all the time. Sometimes it still feels weird and othering, in an irrational sort of way, but I can't imagine myself being called anything else. What did you do for your last birthday: Had drinks with some people from my orientation group in one guy's dorm apartment. Casually came out as bi over a game of Never Have I Ever. Wound up at a party even though I had an 8:30 AM class the next morning. Zero regrets. What were you doing last night at midnight? Sitting on my bed and hitting play on the brand-new Meet Me @ the Altar song that dropped last night!!! Name something you can’t wait for: MM@TA EU tour in October! I've been obsessed with them for two years and finally they come here to play some shows and the first time I saw the announcement I legit busted a lip in my excitement. Unfortunately not a hyperbole.

Last time you saw your mum: Last time I visited home—early May I think? What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: Better executive functions so I struggle less with getting stuff done, especially uni stuff and household chores. Currently trying to do something about that, actually! If I'm really lucky I might get an ADHD diagnosis in the foreseeable future and maybe meds…? What are you listening to rn: Fall Out Boy – "We Didn't Start the Fire" Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Often. It's quite a common name where I live! What’s getting on your nerves rn: One word: THESIS. Which I for some reason struggle to do anything about. Blood type: Still unknown! Nickname: Several shorter forms of my civilian name. On here, Ruby. Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Pronouns: she/her Favourite tv show: At the moment: ATLA (and Legend of Korra), Ted Lasso, Good Omens. Probably more I'm forgetting. High school: Graduated in 2016! College: In my Masters! I have an undergraduate degree in law now :D Long or short hair: Long, down to my hips. I used to have short hair as a kid, but I’ve always wanted long hair. Height: 159 cm or 5′2.5′’. Do you have a crush on someone: I try to tell myself that no, I'm just very fond of the person. Platonically. What do you like about yourself: I'm creative and adaptable! I'm good at winging it when the situation requires it, and I usually get things figured out one way or another. I'm a hype woman for my friends, and I like the way I can find joy and excitement in all corners of life. Also, not to toot my own horn but I'm really proud of my style right now! Right or left handed: Right-handed. First surgery: None. Piercing: None. First best friend: Probably Rebecca, in first grade. It’s a shame I moved away, I wonder what she’s doing now. First sport you joined: Ballet, when I was five or six. Kept doing it until early fifth grade, then changed to horseback riding. First vacation: Probably to my grandparents’ vacation home somewhere at the North Sea. Don’t remember a thing though, I was one or something.

RIGHT NOW:

Eating: Nothing. Drinking: Water, still! I’m about to: Hopefully write a bit more for the mystery project 👀 Listening to: Meet Me @ the Altar – "Give It Up"

WANT:

Kids: Yes, eventually. I'd like a stable partner first (although if push comes to shove I wouldn't mind raising my kids solo), and most importantly I'd like to be my own person for a couple of years and not be bound by duty to everyone else. Travel, explore the world and myself, get all that out of my system so I can truly go into motherhood with no regrets. Get married: Yes, if I find the right person to do it with. Career: Study law and work for the EU or an NGO.

WHICH IS BETTER:

Lips or eyes: Eyes. I don't pay much attention to lips outside of someone having a cute smile! Hugs or kisses: Kisses are nice, but I still prefer hugs! Taller or shorter: IDGAF. I still love my tall lanky noodle men, but I'm not picky. With women, even less so. Girl is taller than me? Awesome, great for being held. Shorter than me? CUTE. Older or younger: Around my age, rest doesn't matter. I'm at an age where anything between 20-30 is fair game, but any younger or older and it gets creepy. Romantic or spontaneous: A mixture of both. Nice stomach or nice arms: If the person is nice, their body will be nice too. It's an automatic process. I don't make the rules. Sensitive or loud: A combination of both! Troublemaker or hesitant: Secret third thing where they're chaotic but also too shy to really make a move.

HAVE YOU EVER

Kissed a stranger: Does "someone I talked to all evening but didn't know before that and didn't meet again afterwards" count? Drank liquor: Tried a bit, same as everybody. Found it nasty. Didn't try again. Lost glasses/contacts: Don't have any to lose. (Given the way I've been treating my eyes: yet?) Had sex on the first date: I'm asexual and I refuse. Broke someone’s heart: Yes, and let's leave it at that. Turned someone down: I'm a woman existing in public. Having to turn down random men is a recurring part of my experience. Cried when someone died: Not really—I seem to shut down and go blank more than anything else. I used to feel guilty about it, but now I've learned that everyone processes grief and loss differently and it doesn't mean I care less. Fallen for a friend: Yes, repeatedly, it has yet to end well, and it will probably happen again.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

Yourself: Mostly yes. There are some things I need help with before I can unlock my full potential, but one thing I've learned is that I always manage in the end. And once I get proper help, I have no doubt I'll be just fine. Miracles: I don't like to rely on them, but I do believe that unlikely good things can and do happen. Love at first sight: Not for myself, I need to get to know a person before I fall for them. I do believe in attraction at first sight though. Heaven: It's a nice thought, but whether or not it exists doesn't matter to me. Our task in life is the same regardless: try to be kind and treat others well and hopefully leave the world a slightly better place. Santa Claus: No, and never really have. My parents never claimed he was real; my Christmas presents always came from the family that visited on Christmas Eve. Kissing on a first date: Did it once, it was okay. I think it's one of those "take it or leave it" things—if the chemistry is right, sure, go for it, but it's definitely not for everyone in every situation.

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

It’s almost midnight so I’m probably just going to sound stupid and not make any sense. And I fully acknowledge this is all my own fault because of my own personal hang ups and issues. Literally it’s nothing anyone else has done

But I go through this really weird phases where my internalised sexism and lesbophobia just sort of burst into each other.

I’d say in general I with them gay books I read it’s about 40% lesbian stuff and 60% gay male stuff. And normally that’s fine and dandy and nothing comes of it.

But then sometimes I just get into these really exhausting and confusing headspaces. I start to really envy gay and feel gross in my own type of homosexuality. I start to feel like I’m a bad or gross or less emotionally fulfilled for being a woman and also being exclusively into women. As if Gay male love is more pure and affection and good then what I have.

I start to feel very ashamed in myself and trapped in my personhood in a way that’s different to my normal internalised homophobia. But it frustrates me, one because it just hurts and it’s unpleasant feeling , but also because I feel like it’s a massive disservice to gay men and the struggles they have to go through. Because I’ll never know what that’s like or how the workings of gay male culture is. I have a very insular and fictionalised version of what I think it is and that’s what I’m basing my insecurities off. Which just doesn’t help anyone at all. And it makes me feel like a bad person for that as well.

I just don’t understand why I feel that way sometimes. But it really sends me into some depressive episodes. It’s like I’ve convinced myself there is this massive hole me because there isn’t any aspect of maleness in my life (in terms of either personhood or attraction). So when it doesn’t manifest itself in the usual “oh boo hoo why I’m a lesbian why can’t I be straight” it starts to come out on “oh I’m a dirty lesbian and I’ll never experience love and I’m not as pure as gay men and maybe things would be better if I was”

It’s just a messed up situation that honestly doesn’t make a whole of sense to me. But it still makes me angry at myself because it literally doesn’t help anyone.

[free--therapy]

Hello, it's anon!

It's been some time, I hope you're doing well! Personally, this month was going better than the last but the last few days really hit badly again. I've noticed that everytime I notice something like "oh I've been doing pretty well recently" is exactly when I stop doing well 😭

This isn't a coincidence because it's when I notice "I've been doing well" that I start thinking things like "hmm so am I over that xyz thought? And what about that xyz one? Or what about that one?" Etc. So like, I just randomly end up thinking about some of my worry thoughts and in that process, I end up engaging too much with at least one of them which then kind of starts a spiral which keeps getting worse until I force myself out of it. It's a weird process and super tiring too.

I really want to reach a point where I stop getting bothered much by these thoughts at all and just learn to completely believe that "I'm fine and that these thoughts aren't necessarily true" and just keep moving on with my life.

Most times, I can remind myself that these are just thoughts and that I'm just stuck in a cycle of overthinking and getting anxious that's all. I remind myself nothing is actually wrong with me and that I can live just as normally and happily as anyone else. Because my mind makes me think things like "Oh can you enjoy this thing/event as much as anyone else considering you've been struggling so much with overthinking and anxiety?" Like even if I might be enjoying, my mind tries to convince me that "I'm not" or at least that "I shouldn't be" which is sad honestly. It's like it tries to make the overthinking seem like much much bigger problem than it actually is.

Of course, from time to time, even I'm surprised by how much I can get bothered and frustrated by overthinking over the most absurd and smallest of things, it's honestly crazy. Like whether the issue is very small or big, my overthinking makes any and all of them seem like a life altering problem (that too, a negative one). In fact, even if it's not a problem to begin with, it'll still start looking like one, a very big one at that. Idk why I'm like this 😭

Is this even common? And can I even get out of this habit lol

I mean, I've always been a thinking type of person but it's almost always been very controlled and never made my life harder or impacted my life in a negative way. But in the last three years, it has taken over my anxiety and I became like this 😔 But even in the last three years, it's been VERY on and off. Like there are periods of months where I completely stop the overthinking and live in a healthy way with a healthy way of thinking then suddenly spiral for weeks or months then I'm okay again and so on.

Like I had period of months from August to December 2022 where my overthinking was very minimal and I remember I used to sometimes ask you for advice or just vent here but never did the thinking get bad or out of control. I used to approach it in a healthy understanding sort of way so it never "took over" my life. I can say it for sure because when I remember a period of my life with the good memories or other events in it (instead of remembering the anxiety or overthinking first) I can tell that I was doing great with minimum overthinking. And the first of this year, January to mid-June 2023 was even better with virtually no overthinking at all.

So to go from almost a whole year (and even some months before that too) of comparatively much healthy mental health to this is kind of sad 😭 That said, I also know that I tend to get like this when I'm too idle for too long like I am now.

Since after college ended in June this year, I've been free and idle and have had nothing to do. I've mentioned this before too but being so idle and at home all day everyday pretty much makes it much easier for the mind to stray. Having things to focus on or things to do or just something to keep the mind stimulated helps to keep my mind in check so when negative thoughts do come up, I can easily rationalise them without getting too caught up in the details of those thoughts which makes me twist the words in those worries. So not having anything stimulating for so long has led to me getting more absurd thoughts related to my old worries or even some completely new ones.

It's like the old thinking patterns from 2021 are returning but this time, I do know better of course. However, that doesn't stop the thoughts from getting worse and it does get overwhelming at times.

Though I've noticed something. I almost never panic about actual real world issues in my life. Like when some issue does pop up, suppose an exam I haven't studied enough for. In that scenario, unlike many other students, I usually don't take too much stress and usually believe that "I'll be okay, I'll figure something out" and stay calm and the exam does go well too!

So with a lot of actual real life issues (except a few), I tend to stay more on the positive or calm side but when it comes to these made-up worries, it's much much harder for me to stop overthinking and focusing on the negatives.

It's like my mind finds every smallest negative detail and starts obsessing over it, ruminating and worrying when it might never happen or might have never happened in the past. But the "what if it did happen?" Or "what if it does happen in the future?" And similar thoughts are crazy.

Honestly, at this point, I've collected like hundreds of worry topics which actually don't have anything to do with real life and can be left alone but I can't leave them alone. And from those hundreds of "topics" of worry, I've discovered like thousands of worry thoughts each about each of those hundreds of topics lmaooo

Basically what I mean to say is I've collected a whole huge mountain of thoughts and overthinking about the same old topics and keep piling more thoughts onto it. And now it's like I've gotten kind of used to carrying that mountain everywhere in my head and I just find myself wondering "What would this person feel if they were to get all of these thoughts of mine?" "Would they think it's heavy? Or overwhelming?" Because I personally don't know anymore after having them for so long.

But you know sometimes I can't help but feel like I just wanted to keep the mountain down. Like take it off from my head and lay it somewhere and let it go for good. To let myself feel lighter and more like myself again, after all, that is how I felt for the last one year and it's only recently that these thoughts have started piling again. So I clearly remember how it feels to not have this "burden" with me all the time but just that I don't know how I can just let it down.

I mean, after all, no matter how complex, confusing, weird, absurd or frustrating it gets, in the end, these are just thoughts right? They're not something that always need to be taken seriously at all. I know that and yet, why can't I do it? Like let it go completely? I know I can do that since that I've done it before. So why can't I this time?

Have you ever felt anything of this sort? And if you did, what did you do?

Hey Anon,

You gotta stop sabotaging yourself! I know it's easy to fall into those old patterns, but you gotta stop yourself before you even begin that cycle. I know this is challenging though and all part of the process of healing. Keep combatting those thoughts that keep trying to tell you you don't deserve to be at peace.

Also, there's no need to beat yourself when you have these periods of relapses because the journey is not linear. You're going to fall back into old patterns because they are things your mind was used to doing for so long, so it'll take a lot of discipline and patience with yourself to enforce the newer habits. You already know what to do though :) Keep looking for things to do to keep your mind occupied so you're not sitting idle with your mind too long. Think of some projects you'd like to work on or set some goals for your future to work towards and keep your mind on.

Yes, like you said, no matter how complex, confusing, weird, or absurd this process gets, they are all just thoughts and you have the power to give them power over you or not. Thoughts are just opinions and opinions are not facts. Sometimes you need to just keep on repeating the same positive affirmations to yourself until your mind believes it. Consider how many times you've had the same negative thoughts over and over again and you started to believe them. The same thing happens with the positive too :)

Yes, I definitely did struggle a lot with wrapping my mind around having to calm down my thoughts and even now I can get wrapped up in things because my brain is ADDICTED to the rush the body gets from worry. It's ridiculous, but I also know I have the tools I need to combat the thoughts and I can usually settle myself down within minutes. You have to remember that this is a skill you're learning so it's going to take time, practice, and patience with yourself. It's easy to feel defeated, but you've even said it yourself: you've had periods of times where you were able to manage the thoughts, so that tells me that you're more than capable of doing this. Just keep going ☺

[hotwings0203]

Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

[herofics]

Dabi beats up an asshole ex step-mom, but it’s comfort

Guess who isn't doing so well on this wonderful day, you fucking guessed it, me. They’re childhood friends and the reader stayed in contact with Dabi even after he left his family and they both became villains, the reader not so much but they aren’t exactly a lawful citizen. Also can you tell I’m venting some shit, obviously this is highly exaggerated and I wouldn’t hurt anyone, but god does it feel good to get some anger out. I’m 6cm taller than Dabi and much bigger, and I’m saying this because it ended up being a bit of self insert, or at least with a big reader.

You weren’t really sure what triggered it this time. Scratch that, you knew exactly what made it happen, but you didn’t really want to accept it.

“Fuck!” you yelled as you hit the brick wall for the hundredth time that evening.

You knuckles were bleeding and bruised, but you didn’t care, you barely even felt the pain anymore.

“Fucking bitch!” you shouted and struck the wall one more time.

“Ya know, there’s a perfectly good punching bag right there” Dabi said as he leaned against the doorframe.

You turned around, out of breath, and crossed your arms in front of yourself, trying to hide your hands.

“Can you just go away?” you asked, sounding more desperate than angry.

“Sure can, but I’m not gonna” he scoffed and started walking towards you.

You took a step back, but now your back was against the wall and you couldn’t really get away from him.

“Nowhere to run now” Dabi smirked and forcefully twisted your hands away from your sides, to see the damage you’d done this time.

“So?” you asked, looking away from him.

“You didn’t fracture anything did you?” he asked after a while, and let go of your hands.

“I-I don’t think so”

“Good, cause we’ve got something to do” he turned around and started walking out.

You grabbed your hoodie from the floor and threw it on, following Dabi out of the dusty gym.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” you asked as he pulled his hood up and put on a black facemask.

“That hag of an ex step-mom of yours is bothering you again, isn’t she? We’re gonna go greet her”

“How’d you know?” you asked and shoved your hands into your hoodie pockets.

“You yellin ‘fucking bitch’ at the top of your lungs while hittin a wall kinda gave it away”

“Ah” you shook your head.

You walked through the city, without saying so much as a word after that. When you got to her house, you grabbed Dabi’s forearm and squeezed it a little too tight for his liking.

“You’re not gonna kill her, right?” you asked, while still holding onto his arm.

“Like I said, we’re just gonna greet her” he growled and ripped his arm away from your grip.

“Sorry, I-”

You were interrupted by the door opening and that hag peeking out the door. She saw you and you could see her eyes darken. It honestly gave you goosebumps, and brought back a lot of the shit she had done.

“”What are you doing here? I thought you never wanted to see me again” she said spitefully.

“I didn’t, and I don’t, but he does”

Dabi took his mask off and shoved it into his pocket. Even though you could only see the side of his face you knew he had that crazy gleam in his eyes and he was smiling like a maniac.

“Hello Mrs” he said and pushed her back into the house so forcefully, she fell on her ass into the hallway, leaving a smoldering handprint on her shirt.

“Dabi? Isn’t this enough, she looks scared enough”

“No, not what she did to you” he hissed and you could see the smoke coming from his hands.

“What I did?! That brat is-” she started but Dabi pretty much showed his boot into her mouth.

“No one asked you anythin” Dabi growled and waved his finger in front of her face, before taking his boot off her face.

“You said you wouldn’t kill her” you said, not even really sure if you wanted to convince him.

“I won’t” Dabi said.

“But?”

“But ya might want to call an ambulance soon” he said as he grabbed her by the collar with both hands.

The fabric started smoking and burning and your former step-mother screamed, hopefully more because of fear than pain. You pressed your hands to your ears to muffle at least some of the sounds. You stepped outside for a few minutes, before calling the ambulance, but after a while you couldn’t take the noises anymore and you slammed the door open.

“Dabi!” you finally yelled and grabbed his arm.

Dabi turned his head to look at you and stopped struggling against your grip. Even though you looked angry, it didn’t seem to be directed at him. You were looking past him and down to the human sack of shit laying on the floor. Even though you were obviously angry, you also seemed very sad.

“Fine” he sighed and ripped his arm out of your grasp.

“I called an ambulance, it should be here soon, so we need to go” you said, now looking more like your calm self.

You grabbed Dabi’s hand and started dragging him away from the scene of the crime. When you had put enough distance between yourself and the house, you turned around and noticed that he was bleeding from his face and the hand you had grabbed. You figured your former step-mother had managed to rip a few of his staples off.

“I’ll patch you up once we get back to my place, put your mask back on and maybe you won’t look as suspicious as you are” you remarked.

“Yeah, yeah” he said and took his hand back to put his mask on.

You lead the way to your apartment, when you got there you sat Dabi down on the couch.

“Wait there, I’ve got some replacement staples for you and I’m gonna clean off the blood”

“I can do that myself” he argued, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Oh shut up, you’re too angry to do shit right now, I felt how your hands were shaking”

“Fuck you” Dabi growled and leaned back on the couch.

You carried one of the kitchen chairs in front of the couch and sat down on it, setting the wound cleaning supplies on the coffee table behind you.

You grabbed Dabi’s chin and started cleaning the blood off his face. You had to swipe his hair out of the way a couple of times too.

“You’re too goddamn dirty for this to be of any actual help. Go take a shower you dirty gremlin”

Dabi just sighed, but obliged with your request without much resistance, but he still made sure to smack you on the back of the head as he walked by.

“I’ll give you a t-shirt and a pair of my joggers, so throw your clothes in the washer” you yelled as he slammed the bathroom door shut.

You could hear the shower turn on and while he was in there, you decided to patch up your knuckles. You disinfected your hands and wrapped some gauze around your knuckles. Then you left the clothes you promised next to the bathroom door. You laid down on the couch to wait for Dabi to come out of the shower.

Dabi stood under the warm water for a while. How long had it been since he had actually taken a proper shower, with soap and all. He opened a couple of the shampoos and shower gels, before he found the one that smelled the most like you. He decided not to use it, but instead just took a deep breath of the smell and memorized the brand. Maybe he would buy it for you sometime. Dabi put the bottle back and chose something else that would be better for the burnt parts of his skin.

“What am I gonna do with them?” he muttered. “How do I keep them safe?”

Laying there on the couch, you got to thinking, it wasn’t like you had any love left for your ex-step-mom, but you didn’t really know how to feel about what Dabi had done. It’s not that she didn’t deserve every bit of it, it’s more about the fact that you felt like you should’ve done it yourself and not let Dabi bloody his hands again. You knew what he was, you knew who he worked with and the things he’d done, but you didn’t want to use him like some sort of an attack dog.

The bathroom door opened and Dabi stepped out. He was wearing the pants you’d given him but he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was drying his hair on the towel and when he was done, he draped it over the chair you had brought next to the couch.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you said and grabbed the staples and the surgical stapler off the table. “Sit down, and I’ll patch you up too”

Dabi sat down on the couch next to you and was very still during the whole stapling operation. You were used to doing it for him, since you’d been doing this for years, ever since he had had a need for it. You grabbed his chin again and started working on his face, it didn’t seem like the skin had ripped too badly, which was a damn miracle, so you just pressed the stapler close to the old spots and pressed it down. Next was his hand, it looked much worse, but you managed to patch him up with the addition of a few stitches and the staples on top. Even when you were done, you didn’t let go of his hand, you just looked at it and brushed your thumb over the border of normal and burnt skin.

“Do you hate me now?” he asked suddenly.

“I may be annoyed at you, but I could never hate you” you said as you put the last staple to his hand. “Touya…” you used his real name to see if he would react any differently, but he didn’t seem to care. “We’ve been friends since we were kids, and you’ve always looked out for me. You know I appreciate that, but I don’t want to take advantage of your willingness to stand up for me, and I’m not so weak that I would need it anyway”

“I don’t do it because I think you’re weak. I do it because you’re too damn kind to give shitty people what they deserve”

“You might be right about that” you sighed, finally letting go of his hand. “Why’d you choose today to do that anyway?”

“Just felt like it” he shrugged.

“Sure…” you rolled your eyes. “Also, could you put a shirt on?”

“Why? You getting all hot and bothered about it?” he smirked.

“No-no, jackass” you said and hit his shoulder.

“Ouch” he said a bit over dramatically.

“Seriously though, if at all possible, I wish you didn’t have to bloody your hands even more because of me”

“I would burn the whole world down for you, and there is nothing you could do about it” Dabi said quietly, but you could hear he was very serious.

“Thank you, but I’m sure it won’t come to that” you said.

You moved to lay down on the couch but Dabi pulled you down so your head was on his lap. You could feel his hands in your hair and you took a deep breath. He smelled like sea salt and toasted cinnamon. Everything was better like this, just like this.

[wizkiddx]

a father and daughter

I don't normally hop on the whole dad!tom thing, but this idea kinda popped up and wouldn't leave me alone. Hope everyone is having a lovely festive period and wish you all well in the new year x x x

Summary: Tom really struggles to get into the parenting thing, and finds it tricky balancing work and his relationship with baby daughter

Tom loved being a Dad. It had only been a couple of months, meaning your baby girl was still very much a baby - yet still he had no doubt, this was the best job one could ever ever do. To be honest he was quite regretting agree to the few work commitments he had started to ease back into too. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to go these months without work, which not many had the luxury of saying - but in this industry work agreements were lined up years before and he was never one to disappoint. 

Of course, as soon as you both had found out you were expecting, he’d withdrawn from the big filming project across the world but that didn’t mean he avoided the odd week of press, or a couple days flying abroad for fittings and meetings. By absolutely no means would you ever class him as a slightly ‘absent’ dad, you completely understood and when he was home did way more than his fair share with Amelie.

But Tom felt guilty and he felt like he was inferior to you in parenting ability. And you knew that was for one reason and one reason only. He did not have boobs. 

You were well aware that as much as you loved Amelie needing you so much and so often - sometimes being the only person able to soother her - was because all she wanted was to drain you of milk. She was clearly going to be a Daddy’s girl, and who could blame her when her Dad was Tom. But for right now, a mere 5 months old - she loved you because she loved your tit. 

The first time you had noticed Tom’s growing frustration was right after his first evening work commitment since her arrivel, he’d been on a UK chat show earlier in the evening and as encouraged by you, had taken the opportunity to have a few drinks after with his brothers and friends. By no means did he return late, barely midnight, but he did return just a little tipsy. You were still up choosing to have a little movie night to yourself, whilst Amelie slept in the Moses basket next to the couch. Just before Tom got back though, she had woken up and for no reason was the smiliest little girl. So when Tom let himself into the front door, he was greeted with the sound of Amelie’s little bubbles of laughter, while you spoke in baby language - pulling ridiculous faces and laughing with her. 

“Someones smiley” Tom laughed as he plopped down on the sofa next to you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arm round your shoulder as he smiled at Amelie. 

“Aren’t you Meelie? How was the show love?” You asked, as you held Amelie in a sitting position on your thighs so she was staring at you both. 

“Hmm it was nice, couldn’t make myself stay for too long though… just missed my girls.” His voice was a little rough, something that happens after talk show and then almost shouting over the obnoxiously loud music in the pub after. Amelie, laughed again at his words, almost taunting her Dad’s attachment to her, making both of you burst out laughing. She already had you both wrapped round her very little finger. 

Shaking your head, you passed her over to Tom muttering needing a wee and made a quick escape. Ever since you had her, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave her unattended - meaning you had almost made your kidneys explode holding in a wee waiting for Tom to get back. Yet as soon as you made it out the door, the bubbling innocent laughter turned into screams - but at that point you’d already made it out the doorframe - marking that as Tom’s issue to handle. Unfortunately the wails continued, very very loud and proud, and when you returned Tom was pacing slowly around the lounge with a grimace on his face as Amelie screamed into his shoulder. 

“I’ll stay up with her if you want.” You offered, knowing Tom without sleep and having to listen to her racket all night would have an impressively worse hangover tomorrow. 

“No I got it, think she needs a change.” Tom countered, even though you were pretty sure she wanted a feed, since it had been a good couple of hours from the last. He noticed your hesitance and shooed you out the room “I got it love, you’ve had her all evening.” 

“You know where I’ll be” You smiled lightly, leaving them downstairs as you got ready for bed.

It was after about 10 minutes of thrashing about guiltily in your otherwise empty bed, you gave in to the still continuous screaming. Amelie clearly was just hungry, even if Tom refused to admit it and bring her to you. So with a deep sigh you gave in, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and trudged downstairs. Tom was still stood up, taking gentle bouncing steps as Amelie apparently tried to deafen him. Once he saw you, with a defeated look, Tom offered her to you. Instantly, as if you just had the ability to turn the crying switch on her off- Amelie stopped crying and blinked away the tears in her eyes, whilst waiting patiently for you to offer her your nipple. While you were busy trying to get her to latch on, you just caught Tom muttering something as he trudged up to bed without so much as a good night. 

Then a couple months later a similar thing occurred. Tom had been away in New York for 5 days, a little press stint that he had under no circumstances been able to get off. At first all had been well but two days since he returned, Tom insisted you finally had an evening out with the girls - to be honest, after spending the best part of a week alone with Meelie you graciously took it. Oh, and also of importance for context, Amelie spoke her first word while he was away… Mama. 

You’d left that morning, your best friend taking you on a spa day before - so by the time Tom called you at 11 in the evening, he’d spent a good portion of the day with Amelie vehemently denying to do anything at all apart from yell- yelling “NO MAMA.” So fair to say he was pissed. You answered the phone with a soft smile, honestly finding spending this much time apart from Amelie really hard and guilt-inducing. 

“Hey Tom everything okay?”

“Um when do you think you’ll be back?” He spoke straight and to the point, clearly not in the mood for small talk. 

“I don’t think too long, is everything alright?” His tone made you so much more concerned,  now worrying that something had happened. 

“No no everything’s fine. Just… just been a long day.”

“Okay well I’ll be back soon I promise. I love you.”

“Yeh yeh um you too” He didn’t mean to be short. Nor to make you worried. He didn’t hate you - far the opposite, he hated how much Amelie loved you. 

If he was being honest, he just felt like a bit of a failure of a father. As a child himself, Tom had always been incredibly close to his mum and thought the typical rule was mummy’s boys and daddy’s girls stood. So why then, did his child appear to absolutely detest him with every look. Especially because, given the nature of his job, once Tom went back to actually shooting films again he’d be around much less - and that the relationship between him and Amelie would at least be geographically strained. Unrequited love is always the worst and ultimately most painful, especially when it involves your own child. 

This underlying and unspoken tension fizzled away for a decent amount of months and Tom went on his first job. At this point you were no longer breastfeeding, but still you knew that purely instinctively if Amelie was ever scared, upset or unhappy she would seek you first. It was bloody obvious to you that she did love Tom, she chuckled away like no tommorrow when he played with her and spun her round the room. And yet, you could still tell Tom wasn’t completely convinced and still seemed , just a bit aware and hesitant. 

In there ever needed to be any proof though, it must’ve been how stroppy Amelie got once Tom left. In short, for you, it was hell. You ended up constantly wearing Tom’s t-shirts, not for you but because the mild but lingering scent of him seemed to soothe Amelie when she was fussing. She would never giggle like she did when her silly Daddy was here to be her personal comedian. She had, however, finally learnt how to say Dada - which now she was shouting impressively at every point apart from when you tried to film it. She was a little devil, its like she knew exactly what to do to make you life as hard as possible - keeping you dealing with an unhappy Tom. You tried to tell him, when you were on FaceTime each evening - but no matter how many times you promised, it seemed that Tom had a hard time believing you. 

He was filming in Germany, which meant it wasn’t actually ‘that’ far from your London home and after two weeks he flew back for a weekend. You were incredibly excited- not just to seeing Tom, which of course you where; but also ,hopefully, for him to feel some sort of assurance in his ability as a parent. He needed to see her, Amelie needed her Daddy and you… you needed a rest. 

That evening, you had had her balanced on your hip as you rushed to make the house look somewhat presentable (because single parenting was not easy) but Amelie had thrown a fit so with a slightly immature passive aggressive comment to your 11 month old daughter you put her on her play mat and carried on. It was a bit of a risk if you were quite honest, she was more than just a crawler - she perfected the art of bum shuffling and was starting to on occasion try to stand up. But you were in the same room so surely little harm could come to her in the ‘over-the-top-ly’ baby proofed living room - Tom’s doing of course. 

So keeping one eye on Amelie and the other on the almost terrifyingly big stack of discarded toys you set about tidying up. It was all going swimmingly until your thoughts about how on earth you were going to hide all the crap were abruptly interrupted with a garbled screech of “DADA!”

You instantly whipped your head round to watch Amelie stumble and basically throw herself the couple of steps to the doorway where Tom stood. You had absolutely no clue how long he’d been standing there but that was all insignificant watching him sweep you little girl into his arms, before she could career to the floor (headfirst of course). His eyes were bugging out of his head, as she giggled and laughed in his strong grasp before astutely throwing her head into the crook of his neck, demanding to be cuddled by him. 

It was almost hilarious, how utterly shocked Tom looked at the real life proof that his baby girl had missed him. Once he met your eyes he used the hand supporting Amelies back to point at her in a questioning manner, making you roll your eyes at just how oblivious and stubborn he is. 

“She’s missed her Dad!” You smiled, as you walked toward him and pecked his lips. “You got this down here if I finally get some peace upstairs?” 

Because yes, you’d missed your husband and wanted to spend all night wrapped in his arms. But really? There was a more important way the evening should pass, finally Tom getting his moment with Amelie. So without so much as even a ‘how was your flight’ you left the two in the living room - you making a beeline to the bath, for just a moment to yourself. 

It was perhaps even a little shocking to yourself that you were so confident you could leave them alone for the evening. Because really, if Amelie started acting up suddenly again, this could be where Tom’s confidence as a dad goes from ‘ropey at best’ to ‘non-existent’. Except you were so certain in the fact that just wouldn’t happen. If she was hungry she’d take the bottle from Tom (which she never did from you without arguement ). 

And so you had possible the most relaxing time in the bath - actually alone for the first time in two weeks. 

It wasn’t until you quietly walked down the stairs two hours later that you got a bit suspicious of the silence downstairs. Cautiously you peered your head round the doorframe and you didn’t even try to stifle the beaming smile spread across your face. Because there was your husband, lying semi-reclined on the arm of the sofa, his arms wrapped protectively round Amelie who looked incredibly content snuggled up to her dad at last. They were both fast asleep and the sight was just so sweet it actually hurt your  heart, meaning only naturally you had sneak a picture of them both. It was infuriating how you knew you had to wake him up - it is a little irresponsible to leave her lying on top of him on the couch and you kinda wanted to cuddle up to Tom this evening too. 

So with a gentle touch rubbing and down his right arm it only took a moment or two till he suddenly blinked his eyes open, eyes looking quickly between your eyes and Amelie - his grasp on her had instinctively tightened a little.

“Hey” You whispered softly, watching him notice how calm Amelie looked on his chest.

“Mhmm hey.” His voice was slightly croaky, probably from the exhaustion of two weeks of hard work. 

“You guys friends then?” You whispered while combing your ginger nails though Amelies little curls at the base of her neck - she was most deifnetly a Holland. 

“She did really miss me?” Tom asked, still half not believing as he shuffled up on the sofa so he was sitting more upright. 

“To the point she had me wrapping the pillows in your unwashed t-shirts.” You giggled as his bottom lip pouted into a visible ‘awh’. 

“Come on lets get you both to bed.” 

Without much complaint, but keeping her in his arms, Tom nodded and followed you up to bed. But that night instead of getting your way and having Tom cuddling you, he pouted until you let him lie Amelie down in the middle of the bed between you two . 

But seeing the way he grinned at her in the dark, almost fighting to stay awake as he looked at her, the prospect seemed a lot more attractive. 

And that was more than fine by you.  

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  Part XI - - - - Part XII - - - - Part XIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Plo Koon woke to find himself chained in a dark room.

Somewhere behind him he could hear steady dripping; it was uncertain if that was deliberate or not.

He strained to discern anything in the dim light, but the walls of his prison refused to form into anything recognizable.

Cautiously, the trapped Master cast his senses out, only to find them reflected back at odd angles. He decided to wait before attempting to push any further past what his captor wished him to see.

Time passed strangely, but sooner than expected there was the sound of a pressurized airlock opening and, distantly, a raging ocean.

The airlock cycled through its rotation and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out of the amorphous shadows looking...decidedly worse for the wear. 

Plo ached at the sight. His normally carefully maintained beard was a scraggly mess. His robes hung tattered and bloodied. Of particular concern was how dry he looked, skin cracked and bleeding for want of water. The figure standing before him with a dead-eyed glare resembled less an accomplished Jedi Master and more the wretched husk of one. 

“Who are you?”  Obi-Wan's shade hissed. The chains around the Kel Dooran tightened. 

Well, however he might view himself and others...at least he’s willing to fight to defend what remains? At the bare minimum he’s not acting intentionally self destructive...

“Good Morning, Obi-Wan. I am a Jedi Master and your friend. I have been attempting to reach you through your rather impressive shielding. I must say, you’ve done a remarkable job confining me in this mental construct, its been sometime since anyone has managed to get the best of me in this arena.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Don’t try and flatter me, you barely fought back. You could easily have forced your way anywhere, but for some reason you let me corral you, presumably to try and gain my trust. Now answer my question. Your presence is very much light so I doubt you’re Sidious or...Vader. I could be wrong obviously, but i can’t see either of themselves putting this much effort into that sort of mask...just tell me who you are, and why you’re with them.”

“I am Master Plo Koon, a High Council Member, and I am not unknown to you” he elaborated without hesitation. “I am glad that you can identify that I am a light force user. Can you not sense familiarity within my force presence, even so far within your domain?”

Obi-Wan reared back and the dripping noise in the corner stopped.

“It’s a trick. We might be in my head but that doesn’t mean I’m surrendering any of my thoughts to you,” Obi-Wan snarled. “I felt Plo Koon’s death, he was one of the first...and even if he somehow survived he would never work with the Sith to invade my mind. Never.”

“Obi-Wan. Listen to me. Please. I am not dead. I am not working with the Sith. I was brought in to reach you because no other method was working. You are in the healing halls at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.” Plo spoke calmly, but implacably, “We believe you have either experienced a uniquely detailed vision, or a run in with a dark-sider. Whatever has happened, I can feel the lingering impression of unsafety. But here and now, you are not in any immediate physical danger. There must be something I can do to convince you of your present physical location.”

“A uniquely detailed vision, huh? ha!” Obi-Wan replied, gesturing wildly. “Ha! You expect me to believe that what, the last four years of my life were a detailed prophecy? Why?”

“You...believe you have lived years beyond the rest of us. I take it the- what you remember has been dangerous enough to warrant maintaining abnormally tight control over your mental walls, precluding simply reaching out to ascertain the truth yourself.”

“Clearly my control wasn’t enough if you’re in here.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I do apologize for the intrusion, but we’ve already used every other tool at our disposal to reach you. I repeat, is there anything that can be done to convince you that you are, from your perspective, ‘in the past’. You are a High Council member with a grandpadawan. It’s been two years since the start of the clone wars. You recently finished an extended clean up of the Mon Cala sector after your victory.”

Obi-Wan stared at him curiously. “If I set a test and you fail, will you agree to dispense with the pretenses?”

Plo-Koon hesitated. “Perhaps I’m making this deal in bad faith, as I am know I am Plo-Koon, and that everything I have said is the truth... but I swear that if you somehow prove that neither of those things are true and I am secretly working for a sith lord, I will...reveal that.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Best I’m going to get, I suppose.”

The chains holding Plo-Koon loosened. Before he could respond, there was a hurtling rising sensation that he struggled not to fight against. After a disorienting moment, he found himself in his own body, feeling vaguely seasick. Obi-Wan blinked awake, apparently unfazed by the precautionary bonds holding him in place. Master Aerdo’s gaze flicked between them intensely. Plo-Koon held up a clawed hand to forestall any interruption while the two gained their bearings.

Obi-Wan spoke first:

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation”

“...What?” Koon replied, honestly confused.

“Cihynglo was a renowned Kashykian Jedi, her mediations are, well i suppose were considered a quintessential example of High Republic cosmic poetry.”

“I’m familiar with Cihynglo- my master used to speak of her fondly.” Plo Koon said slowly. “Though I can’t say I’m familiar with her Fourth Mediation.”

“Hmm. Yes, well her poetry in the last few decades of her life got increasingly, well, esoteric. While most of her work was widely translated and distributed, she requested that those who wished to read her fourth Meditations do so in person, so as to experience without dilution the full calligraphy and artwork that accompanied her words. She only ever produced two copies. Any guesses where they were kept?”

Obi-Wan’s voice started out in the steady tones of a born lecturer, only to grow bitter towards the end.

“Is one in the temple?” Master Koon asked.

“Yes, one was held in the Master’s wing of the temple archives. The other was housed in a place of honor in The White Forest’s Great Tree of Knowledge. Considering both libraries were reduced to ash in the first month of the Empire, it is quite impossible, even for the Emperor, to find a copy.” 

His vague attempt at a smirk quickly fell flat. 

“I was privileged enough to be granted time to begin reading it once, but, alas, an emergency situation in the intergalactic war you created meant that I had to run off mid-sonnet. Bring me that book, let me hold it, read it, and I will believe that I somehow unlocked the secret of time-travel while overdosing on Spice.” 

Obi-Wan paused, catching his breath. “In the next fifteen minutes, please. Any more than that and you might try tracking down the few surviving Wookie scholars.” Koon flipped open his comm. “Master Nu, I have an urgent request.”

“Nu here, go on,” came the response.

“This may sound strange, but it is crucial that Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation be brought to the healing halls, room seven. Within the next 15 minutes.”

“You do understand you’re talking about a physical book, not a flimsi-stack or a holocron. It’s not meant to leave a climate-controlled room.”

“I promise you, I would not ask if it weren’t life or death. Please Jocasta, I’ll explain later.”

“I’ll be there in 10. It had better be one durned good explanation.”

Obi-Wan looked bemused. ”You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“I am glad you were able to come up with a test you found meaningful. Remember, you have friends here, regardless of whether you experienced subjective time travel or an incredibly detailed vision.”

They waited a little longer. Obi-Wan critically examined Master Aerdo.

“I’m a Senior Soul Healer” they offered at the non-verbal prompting.

“How interesting.” Obi-Wan remarked dryly.

They sat in awkward silence for another minute. 

They were all equally trained in suppressing fidgets, coughs, or other nervous tics, which made the wait that slightest bit more unbearable, each second nearly imperceptible from the one before.

Eventually the sound of heavy boots moving at speed approached.

Master Nu strode in, gently cradling a great burden. The book gleamed large and vital in the light of its stasis wrap. Her eyes widened at they took in Obi-Wan, still cuffed to the bed. 

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation, as asked for. I trust you have an excellent explanation for how a book of poetry is a matter of life or death.”

“I’m hoping that it will convince our friend Master Kenobi that I am who I claim to be and we are where I claim we are.” Koon gently pulled the book from her grasp and reverently placed it on Obi-Wan’s lap. Obi-Wan stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Obi-Wan, I’m going to uncuff you now. I trust that you will use your freedom to examine our ‘proof.’ We will physically intercede if you make any attempts at self harm.”

Master Nu gasped. “Then the temple rumors...I don’t understand.”

Obi Wan picked up the book as if he was afraid it might bite him. With an irritated snort, he opened brusquely to the middle, and began carelessly flipping ahead.

Master Nu started forward, offended, but Plo Koon held her back. “Please Master Nu, patience-”

Finally Obi-Wan seemed to reach the page he was looking for and stopped. “..And still the rain fell like blood of the womb” he murmured. “That...I tried to think of how the line ended but I...”

Everyone watched as the book shook in Obi-Wan's grasp. He turned the page, gasping slightly and murmuring as he read. “This is...a little gross, but oddly touching. I certainly would not have come up with it myself...but its so clearly...” They watched his react, eyes darting wildly and brow furrowing in confusion.

Several pages later he dropped the book abruptly.

“This is impossible,” he gasped.

Nu darted forward, carefully snatching it from his lap, "I am endeavoring to practice tolerance, but how is destroying an irreplaceable piece of literature supposed to help anyone?!” she snapped

“I admit I wondered that myself, but when I imagined what harm the Sith could do with some of the archive’s more practical works, I understood your decision to torch the collection” Obi-Wan responded dreamily. “I suppose the more beautific works would likely have been destroyed anyway...”

“Torch the archives? I would never.”

“But you did,” Obi-Wan insisted feverishly. “I found your message when we searching for survivors. There were so many bodies piled at the archive door that I was almost hopeful that they had managed to...but I suppose they held out just long enough for you to complete your task.”

Nu backed away slowly. “That sounds like quite the disturbing vision, Master Kenobi.”

“It wasn’t just a vision, it was my life. It-visions don’t last years!” he said, finally growing hysterical. “I remember everything! That gods-awful mission to Cato Nemodia! Getting takeout food with Anakin! The smell of burning flesh in the creche! Singing to Luke! The last year of the war! All of you! You crying after Dooku’s death,” he added gesturing wildly at the archivist. “It was so awkward! You were embarrassed! You told me that for some stupid reason you had ‘held out hope’ it was all an insane uncover mission, that he wasn’t really- Three years alone in the desert! I remember three years of living on fucking Tatooine, how could that possibly be a vision!”

“I...hadn’t told anyone that,” Nu whispered with a hint of alarm. She glanced at Plo Koon, daring him to comment. “I know its very much unlikely at this point, and by any measure, he’s taken things too far, but he’s gone on such long shadow missions in the past...” she looked away.

“Oh, Jocasta...” Plo sighed.

“Master Kenobi. I cannot explain how you came to have such detailed knowledge of the future,” Aerdo said, drawing focus back to the bewildered Obi-Wan, who had shifted into a defensive crouch on the bed. “But I do know one reasonably sure fire way to establish that this, us, is the present. Open yourself up to the force, please, just let yourself listen to what it has to say.

“I...want to, of course I want to believe- but the idea that I’m here- it’s, if you’re real than you can’t possibly understand, its too good to be true.” Obi-Wan responded brokenly.

“I know things have been clouded of late, but, if nothing else trust in the force to not lie to you.” Plo-Koon urged. “If you keep closing yourself off like this, how can you possibly learn if things are better than you think”

Obi-Wan collapsed from his crouch, knees folding underneath.

“If I am...even if I am in the past... Sideous might be watching...i didn’t- i don’t know the extent of his gaze- even if...” he trailed off.

“If it makes you feel safer, you are of course free to again raise your shields to whatever extent you feel necessary once you have verified your reality.” Aerdo replied smoothly.

Obi-Wan looked warily at the three Jedi in the room.“I...” he started, trying to articulate the swelling hope and fear only to find himself at a loss for words.

Aerdo shot him a reassuring smile, “If you don’t feel ready right now, that’s perfectly understandable. We’re very happy you’re willing to reach out as much as you have already. Would you like to pause this discussion for now so we can find you something to eat? I believe a simple broth is a customary first post-bacta meal, but if you have any special requests I’ll do what I can.”

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath, dropping his head into his hands. “I- I need to know, don’t I?” he mumbled. “Force help me...you win.” He took one last, searching look at the faces of his fellow Jedi before closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the force.

He opened a small hole in his mental barricades and tentatively allowed his thoughts to drip out. Tentatively, he trickled over the bank of Plo Koon’s being (expecting a frigid burn) only to find a warm and heartbreakingly familiar pool of tempered kindness. 

He ran, slightly faster now, over the other Jedi presences in the room. Having finished his course without encountering any dark undertow, he ebbed back. There was an indistinct impression of something heavy giving way.

Obi-Wan’s Shields Fell Like A Dam Beneath a Tidal Wave -

[mittensmorgul]

Incoming sad rant about the spn ending. Don't read if you're not interested in reading something like that, but I literally don't know anyone in real life I can talk about this with, and I really need an outlet:

Sometimes I can put the way SPN ended out of my head and think "it's just a stupid show. I don't have to accept the finale, and the writers/network are wrong." But other times I just get gripped with really intense sadness at the disrespect that was done to my favorite characters. To the point where I'll sit still for hours a day, just wallowing in it. It ruins my whole day and mood. And then I think to myself "I'll just find some other stories that end better!" but then I get sad again, cuz I don't think I will ever love other characters as much as I love Dean and Cas, and then I spiral again thinking about all the potential this unique beautiful love story had, and how we're never going to get the closure we deserve.

I really hate that after all this time, I'm a grown ass adult getting sad over fictional characters. I know it's not that trivial, but I sometimes wish it was so I could get over it 😞

Hi hi, and first of all *socially distanced internet hugs* I’m sorry you don’t have an outlet, but you’re always welcome to chat with me (if you come off anon we can talk privately if you want. My DM’s are always open, even when it takes me a bit to reply. no one should have to feel alone in this.)

I’m actually gonna start at the bottom of your message and work my way up, because I also, as a grown-ass adult, get sad over fictional characters. And I need to emphasize that this is the *point* of fiction. A well-written and developed fictional character is *indistinguishable in our minds from an actual real human being.* The way we react to them *feels exactly the same to our brains and bodies* as how we react to real people, and that’s a testament to just how well developed Dean and Cas were in canon.

I am not a young person. I have engaged with a lot of media over my life, and have *never* felt this strongly about fictional characters before, so I understand what you mean when you struggle to think about finding another story that ended better, or struggle to think about finding other characters you might become this attached to or experience this sort of emotional investment in. And I think there is another factor you didn’t consider there: The vast majority of other media I have engaged with, I was able to relate to on a level of “oh that’s nice for them” or “wow that sucks for them.” I have never, and possibly never will again, feel so utterly invested in fictional characters, to the point where it affects my real life as much as Supernatural has. Period.

I will likely never experience *literal physical lovesickness* over two fictional characters ever again. I hadn’t ever experienced it *in my own real life* before, and yet 15.18 triggered all those symptoms in me. As an aromantic person, this was pretty shocking to me. It also says a lot about just how real these characters feel to us, and how important they have become to us. They make us feel this! This is not an accident. It’s *incredibly difficult* to create fictional characters with this range and depth of emotional connection, and yet here we are.

I think that’s the biggest evidence possibly to present in defense of the statement that THIS IS NOT JUST SOME STUPID SHOW.

Other evidence: this fandom, still going strong after 15 years. Look at every SPN convention for proof. Look at AO3, where there are more posted stories about Dean and Cas than literally any other pairing on the planet (by a not-small margin, too). If that isn’t enough evidence, we have fanart to look at as well. Look through @theroadsofararchive where at the time of this posting there are over 40,000 artworks catalogued, and more being added all the time. Same with @canonspngifs where you can search through through nearly 75,000 gifsets organized by an excellent tagging system and made by dedicated fans out of love for the thing. This is all proof that you are not alone, that so many of us care just as deeply about them as you do. Not even mentioning the people who have written hundreds of millions of words of meta, articles, and even masters theses and doctoral dissertations on Supernatural and the fandom. This is a unique thing, even within the larger fandom culture. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that your feelings for it are stupid or irrelevant or wrong.

But also don’t let anyone try to convince you that you must accept the finale as part of the story if you don’t want to. Don’t even let *yourself* believe that if you don’t want to. This show has done more to play with the themes of “what is reality” and “who gives a story meaning” and alternate universes and curses and djinn dreams to easily account for whatever the heck the finale was.

my current go-to theory: everything after Chuck’s defeat takes place in the Mockumentary Alternate Universe... it fits way too uncomfortably well... and then I just apply the fic I received in a cosmic transmission from the actual supernatural universe wrote detailing the events of what *I* hoped would transpire afterward. I know this doesn’t work for everyone, but it works for me, mostly because it *has* to. It means far too much to me not to.

You are not alone in having invested yourself into this story, and these characters. Your feelings about them are not wrong or stupid or frivolous. And the proof is everyone else who feels the same exact way, who connected to this story (and to each other through this story), and whose lives have been forever altered through this journey together. The fact that Dabb turned out to have been Chuck Junior and couldn’t see (or was prevented from showing us) what Team Free Will would’ve chosen to do with that after defeating their original creator just stands to prove to me that the finale can’t possibly be The Truth, you know?

I don’t know if any of this will help you, or provide you some small comfort right now, but maybe it will eventually. We’re all processing the loss of the show and the abject failure of story that was the finale in different ways, and I’m sure our emotional reactions will shift over time. It was just A Lot to process all in the span of a few incredibly emotional weeks-- not even mentioning how all of that emotional response was compounded by the american elections and surrounding nonsense, the general stress of enduring a global pandemic and all that entails, and *waves hands around broadly at everything else contributing to the trauma occurring in the collective of humankind right now.* We’ve all been emotionally compromised, so be kind to yourself in how you feel you’re coping with it all.

And know that no matter what, you are not alone in how you’re feeling. The grief is real, and our brains don’t care if it’s felt for fictional characters or real people. This was honestly a once in a lifetime experience for a lot of us, and not even the wtf of the finale can kill it for us if we don’t let it. I reject that particular piece of rusty rebar and choose to believe in a just and narratively coherent resolution. To do anything less feels like dishonoring the story and characters who have drawn me in and made me feel so much for them over the years. If the story itself couldn’t honor them properly, then I can choose to do so myself.

<3

[cellsshapedlikestars]

jonsa prompt fic/modern au

(look at me, making my way through the rest of my prompts from *checks watch* five months ago)

This one was from the lovely @chispas-and-broken-bindings and the prompt was: “I'm sorry 'bout the other night and I know I could be more creative and come up with poetic lines but..”

1) had to google these lyrics, and I have to say, I had never heard of this song, so thank you for also bringing it to my attention

2) I have no concept of what a drabble is, apparently. I meant to keep all of these at under 1k words but nooooope

.

.

Jon grunts as he reaches deep into the fridge – he can see the label of one of those craft beers Theon had (with shockingly good taste) brought in the back and he'd really like that instead of the cheaper swill crowding the front.

Sansa's birthdays are always massive and he honestly forgot the way she goes all out for them. After high school, he just never really made it back for her big, late-September parties and then after college, he'd taken a job down in Dorne. It's his first year back and he sort of forgot how overwhelming it all is - how many friends she has, how her entire extended family shows up.

It doesn't help that he barely knows any of her friends anymore. He recognizes a few from her high school years, but other than that he knows no one. Thank the gods the Starks and Theon are here, because otherwise, Jon's lost in a sea of strangers.

“Jon Snow!” he hears a voice behind him, light and airy and filled with what almost sounds like glee. His fingers finally manage to grasp the neck of the bottle he was aiming for and he pulls back and stands up and turns around to see – fuck, what's her name? Margaery, that's right. Sansa's best friend from high school.

“Hey,” he says, giving her what he's sure is the smile that Robb always calls ‘weird’ and ‘awkward‘ (how you've ever gotten any woman to sleep with you is a miracle, he remembers Robb telling him once).

“It's so nice that you could come,” Margaery says, voice oozing with... something he can't quite place.

“Uh, yeah?” he agrees, because he guesses it is nice? He starts to move around her – they're the only two in the basement right now, everyone else is outside at the party, he'd only come in to grab a drink.

“I mean, I guess we're all adults now, high school is so a decade ago, am I right?” There's a sort of glint in her eye that Jon doesn't like and he really, really wants to get back outside, but there's also a part of him that wants to ask what the hell she means.

“It was a decade ago,” he agrees again, edging towards the door.

“It must have been so awkward for you, I guess that's why you've been avoiding her all these years,” Margaery sighs and tilts her head with a piercing stare, like she's trying to look into his soul or something.

“I... what?”

“Oh, it's ok,” she smiles, leaning forward and starting to whisper even though there's no one else around, “she told me everything.”

“Everything about what?” he asks, mind going suddenly blank because he cannot think of a single thing that Margaery could be talking about.

“Your crush, duh!”

For a moment there's silence in the basement, before, “my crush?”

“I mean, you were like... obsessed with her!”

Jon blinks, feeling both very confused and very stupid as he says, “what?”

“Oh come on! We were all there when you sent her those flowers. You clearly wanted everyone to know, you had them delivered in the middle of lunch! She even read the card aloud – what did it say? Oh my god, they were lyrics, that's right! I'm sorry 'bout the other night and I know I could be more creative and come up with poetic lines but..” she trails off with a giggle. “I'll be honest, I never pegged you as a Rihanna fan.”

Jon feels some sort of creeping horror filling him because he has - one, never sent anyone besides his mother flowers and two, doesn't think he knows even a single Rihanna song.

“Excuse me.”

He walks out of the basement with Margaery's tinkling laugh following him and when he's outside, he immediately spots Sansa, surrounded by a group of her friends by the pool, laughing with a glass of sangria in her hand and a flower crown on her head and a sash that reads Birthday Girl! across her body.

Arya calls to him, but he ignores her as he pushes through the crowd of Sansa's friends and family, making his way to her. She spots him right before he gets there, a smile forming and then fading when she takes in his face – and then panic seems to cross her features and she looks around, like she's going to try to run.

“Sansa,” he says before she can bolt, and her friends part to let him through. “Can we talk?”

She opens her mouth, but he takes her by the arm and starts dragging her away from her friends and behind them, he thinks he hears a few of them start to whisper and giggle and the annoyance that's been simmering in his chest flares.

“Jon, I'm so glad you could make it!” she says brightly, plastering a smile on her face that he can tell is completely fake. “It's been-”

“Why does Margaery think I had a crush on you in high school?”

He watches her open and close her mouth a few times, eyes darting around for an escape and he tightens his grip on her arm.

“I don't...” she starts, but her voice isn't very strong.

“Sansa,” he tries to keep his voice calm and even.

“Ok, fine,” she hisses, eyes snapping back to him and narrowing and there's the Sansa he knows. She may look sweet and innocent, but Jon has known her long enough to know she isn't the wilting flower she sometimes pretends to be. He watches her spine straighten and her head rise and she looks him in the eye. “I told some of my friends back then that you had a thing for me, so what? It was like, a decade ago. It's nothing to freak out over.”

“Well, Margaery is bringing it up to me at a party a decade later. Why does she think I sent you flowers?”

Her confidence falters then, pink staining her cheeks. “I needed to convince them you had a crush on me, so I... may have... sent myself flowers and made the card from you.”

He stares at her, dumbfounded, before asking, “why did I never hear about this before?”

Sansa shrugs and says, “you were away at college at the time. And then you went south and this is the first time you've been around my high school friends since then?”

“Why?” he asks, mind still reeling over this (and, oh gods, he hopes none of Sansa's high school friends ever said anything to Robb or her parents. But no, if they had, Jon's pretty sure he'd be dead in a ditch or, at the very least, banned from family functions by now).

He watches her struggle to come up with something to say, watches the blush spread from high on her cheeks down to her throat and she visibly swallows and for a moment he thinks she might cry and he feels suddenly horrible. Except no – she's the one making up stories about him. He shouldn't feel bad!

“It was... we were at a party and they were all talking about-” she lowers her voice to a whisper, eyes darting around, “-sex and they kept making jokes about how I was a virgin and they knew I hadn't slept with Joffrey before we broke up and I was sick of them making fun of me so I just... I told them I wasn't a virgin. And then they wanted to know who and... well, you were the first person I thought of.”

He's not quite sure how to take that and he doesn't really know what to say (though honestly, he wants to tell her that her high school friends were shit then and they're still pretty shit now, if Margaery cornering him in the basement to taunt him about his supposed crush is any indication).

“And the flowers?”

“Ok,” she says, letting out a forced, breathless laugh, “here's where it gets funny. I promise, you're gonna laugh...” He keeps frowning at her and she gives a subtle tug to her arm and, finding it unmoving, realizes she's going to have to tell him. “Margaery asked a lot of questions and I could tell she didn't believe me and it turned into this whole thing where you were like, obsessed with me? I told them you wrote me poetry and then I sent the flowers to myself...” she trails off uncertainly and Jon wills himself to breathe deep and bite his tongue against his initial retort.

“And you never thought that your gossipy high school friends might spread this around and it could get back to, I don't know, your brother - my best friend? Your parents?”

Her eyes go wide in horror and Jon can tell that no, she never thought of that. Her eyes dart around the party and Jon turns to look behind him and he can see a group of her high school friends whispering together and not too far away is her parents talking to her Uncle Benjen. He watches her eyes well up with tears and he fights back a sigh of annoyance because he wants to be furious with her, but he can't quite manage it (he is weak to tears, yes, but he also remembers high school Sansa – how insecure she was, how desperate to fit in with her friends, that little shit boyfriend who made her feel even worse – and he can't bring himself to be mad).

“Did it have to be Rihanna?” he sighs eventually, giving her what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“It's a good song,” she says, hesitantly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth in return.

“You really should ditch those friends,” he tells her, serious again.

“I honestly don't hang out with them anymore, I just invited them because we all still live around here and Margaery DM'd me a few weeks ago about my party and I felt weird not inviting her. If you want, I can tell them the truth. I should have years ago.”

“It doesn't really matter,” he shrugs. “As long as it never gets back to your family, I do not want to deal with them thinking I deflowered their precious daughter.”

She huffs out an incredulous laugh and says, “I almost wish it had been you, Harry...” And then she stops and her mouth drops open and her eyes go wide like she can't believe she said that and honestly, neither can Jon. It hangs between them for a moment and suddenly he is very aware of his hand still on her arm, how smooth her skin feels beneath his touch. He lets go of her like it burns.

“Well,” he says, shifting back to give a few more inches of space between them. “I should probably let you get back to your party.”

“Yeah,” she says and then, just before he turns to go, “I'm glad you're back. In Winterfell, I mean. I guess I'll be seeing you around more?”

He stares at her for a few moments, the pink stain back on her cheeks, teeth biting into her bottom lip, fingers nervously playing with her birthday sash and he should say no because he can feel this leading down a road he was not prepared for, but instead he says, “yeah. Yes. I'll see you around.”

“Good,” she says and she smiles and as he walks away, all he can think is – Robb is gonna be so annoying about this.

[0606-hyuck]

BOYFRIEND!HENDERY

includes:

♡ before the relationship

♡ becoming comfortable/humour

♡ relationships with other members

♡ jealousy/pda/flirting

♡ disagreements

♡ dates/texting/social media

♡ languages/"i love you"

masterlist

enjoy!

wc: 1.7k

♡ before the relationship ♡

hendery had noticed you hung out in a spot he went to reguarly

the first few times he saw you he would simply admire you from a distance

and then he realised how creepy that was and decided to actually go up and talk to you

on the inside he was quite nervous, but on the outside he conveyed an air of confidence that you liked

so of course you gave him your number

and soon you were hanging out all the time

you quickly realise that hendery is...something lol

but not it a bad way

you never know what sort of shit you and hendery are going to get into, he's so unpredictable

he confessed to you first

let's be honest, he developed a crush on you really quick

but he was still nervous to admit his feelings for you, even though it was obvious you liked him back

one of the only times you've seen him so shy and nervous lol

he bought you a bouquet of flowers and took you out to lunch and confessed to you there

he was really worried you'd turn him down so he was kinda surprised when you said yes to him being your boyfriend

♡ becoming comfortable/humour ♡

nothing much changed when you started dating

he had always been his crazy self around you anyway

but he became more cuddly and affectionate towards you which was cute

randomly comes up and smothers you in kisses when you're not even doing anything

LOVES back hugs!!

imagine hendery coming up behind you and wrapping his hands around your waist while he buries his face in the crook of your neck

omg i'm in tears

speaking of tears, hendery has you crying with laughter daily

let's all admit it now, homie is hilarious

he literally went to a comedy/acting school???

so ofc he's going to be effortlessly making you smile all the time

in my opinion he has the best banter and loves to joke around with you

nothing is off-limits for him

he catches on to your jokes really quickly and is super witty so you have so many long running inside jokes with him

a little bit uncomfortable when you're crying so instead of reassuring you he tries his best to make you laugh to take your mind off your problems

the definition of 3am thoughts

"water is wet, don't fight me on this y/n"

makes you question both the world and your sanity at random times

he's actually really smart though so his 3am questions are both entertaining and convincing

feels the need to fill in silence with his own voice all the time

even if you're cuddling with him

can go like 2 mins without talking

and then suddenly his mouth is by your ear and he's asking you whether you believe in a specific conspiracy theory

it's kind of soothing though

just lying in hendery's arms, listening to him argue his points about something while you slowly doze off

♡ relationship with other members ♡

he was really keen to introduce you to the other members of wayv

because you're an important part of his life and so are they

luckily they all accepted you really quickly

and for once hendery is the one being teased because he's in a relationship

"oh my god hendery is so fuckin whipped for you!" "disgusting"

but hendery doesn't care because hell yeah! he is whipped for you! he isn't embarrassed at all

you deserve to be showed off and loved bby

wayv eventually stops with the teasing when they realise they're not going to get a reaction out of hendery

and they don't even blink an eye when you come over to the dorms

also yangyang specifically really likes you because you humour his teasing and jokes

and since you're dating hendery you're basically an older sister to yangyang

♡ jealousy/pda/flirting ♡

hendery LOVES to flirt with you

sometimes he says really greasy pick up lines to you

other times he's sooo romantic

he will also tell you how much he loves you anywhere

literally praises for days

he especially loves flirting with you in front of the rest of wayv

he's so shameless lol

sometimes the other members can't even stand being in the same room as you and hendery because he's so whipped for you

and it's strange for them to see him flirting nonstop lmaoo

and he absolutely loves it when you flirt back

like it makes his heart race so fast

but your flirting also just boosts his ego and confidence

i just feel like he'd be a really good (but cheesy) flirter

and when you flirt back he's like "aww that's cute you're trying" but he loves being praised too

ugh someone just tell hendery how amazing he is and how much he's loved please

i can't see hendery getting jealous at all

if wayv is jokingly hitting on you he'd probably join in (unless you were uncomfortable ofc) because he loves praising you and making you blush

even if it was a stranger he'd find it amusing they were trying to flirt with you

"good try pal but y/n is not going to get with you"

he usually doesn't interfere either unless you really feel uncomfortable because he knows you won't flirt back

hendery trust you so much that it doesn't even cross his mind you'd ever cheat on him or hurt him that way

and if you did cheat you'd absolutely break his heart and i would be legally obligated to hit you over the head with a baseball bat multiple times

but you never would because you love hendery too much to ever lose him

for some reason i can see hendery not being phased by pda?

he's doesn't hesitate to kiss you in public and hold your hand and give you back hugs and cute shit like that

because mans knows how lucky he is to be with you and is so proud to be your boyfriend

so ofc he's going to show you off at any opportunity

♡ disagreements? ♡

idk what you guys would have disagreements about

because his relationship with you is the first serious one he's ever had

so he tries his absolute best to be the perfect boyfriend

and he's not far off it tbh

always thinking of you and things you'd like

he just puts so much effort into the relationship

and the second he accidentally upsets you or does something you don't like he's on his knees begging for forgiveness

and you're like "hendery, baby, it's not even that serious. you got the wrong flavour of ice cream but i'm not even upset" lol

♡ dates/texting/social media ♡

dates with hendery are always so thought out and fun

he remembers little things you've said in passing that you like

so if you said "oh i prefer fun, active things" he'd make sure your next date includes lots of opportunities to run around and get close to you

he's just down for whatever makes you happiest because the most important thing for him is seeing you smile :)

when he's away homeboy misses you so much he has no idea what to do with himself

constantly moans to wayv how much he misses you

rings you every night after he's finished his schedule to tell you about his day and listen to yours

usually you're the one listening to hendery talk but it's okay because you like to listen to him and he makes sure to ask you if he's boring you (which he never is)

there's no specific time he texts you during the day

he's not really the type to send good morning/good night texts unless you were already texting

however he randomly sends you pictures of his pets, louis, leon, and bella lol

and we're talking super zoomed in photos or him holding their ears/tails/paws in a funny position

basically 90% of his social media is you/selfies with you

he already posts selfies heaps so he doesn't mind adding you into the mix

as we've previously discussed he's not worried about showing you off

so he's not on that "i can't post my partner on insta" bullshit

it may seem sweet that hendery posts pics of you heaps but be warned

he does not care if you are pulling an embarrassing face in the pictures

in fact that makes him want to post it even more lol

you're constantly on his instagram stories too

he has a habit of randomly photoshopping his and your faces onto other people and then posting that??

don't ask me why but he finds it hilarious and totally normal to do that, so he does

he also likes leaving funny comments on your own posts

and he definitely sends your own posts to you in a text saying something like "I JUST DROPPED MY KIMCHI YOU LOOK SO GORGEOUS"

your hype man

♡ languages/"i love you" ♡

hendery prefers to talk to you in chinese (cantonese/mandarin)

but he'll also learn english or korean for you since he has the basics down and friends to help him practice

any other language he will struggle through to learn because he want to make you happy

hendery is the first one to say "i love you"

he's so in love with you that he probably says it after like a month of dating

so you're a little bit shocked but you can tell he really means it

and he'd be kind of shy about it because he knows it's a bit soon to be saying stuff like that

but he really wants you to know how he feels about you

because he's never felt this way about anyone and his love and affection for you is literally bursting from him

aww

i honestly don't know much about hendery

except he's an absolute sweetie and would 110% be the best boyfriend ever

if i could choose anyone out of wayv to be my boyfriend i'd definitely choose hendery

because i know my feelings are gonna be validated and i'm going to feel loved 24/7 and also peeing myself with laughter

anyway only people with big dick energy stan wayv

so if you have a big dick, stream kick back 😜

other members: kun | ten | winwin | lucas | xiaojun | yangyang

© 0606-hyuck 2021. All Rights Reserved.