#lovely losing their friend that helped them through the roughest time of their life and trying to find him after the fact for support

[andswarwrites]

Day 12

Part Three: Stacey is Bipolar (I lose my mind. Twice.)

I'm struggling to decide just how much of these experiences I am willing to share.  It's not because I'm ashamed of what happened, I realize they were beyond my control, but I don’t want to shock and appall an innocent reader.  So I won't dwell on the psychoses themselves for too long, I promise.  I'll paint a picture as gently as I can, and I'll move onto recovery.  Here goes.  In one year, in the spring and then in the fall of 2018, my brain completely snapped.  It wasn't a breakdown, it was momentary insanity.  I don't know what the official definition of a psychosis is, but that is how I will describe it.

The first thing I felt was dread.  I felt I needed sleep, I thought if I could just sleep, I would regain my balance, but the dread of something terrible happening had taken hold of my mind, and I spiralled further and further away from reality.  I became convinced that my husband would hurt me if I stayed in the apartment, so I raced out into the snowy streets.  My brain was telling me that I had to get to a friend's house, a friend who lived nearby.  I started to calm down as I walked.

Then I saw my husband in our car.  He was in a lane that didn't allow him to stop, so he had to pass by, but the panic took hold again, and I ran.  I ran into the street of, not the friend I had intended to visit, but another person.  S- pulled over, got out of the car, and I began to scream bloody murder.  I rang the bell and when my friend came to the door, I begged to be let inside.  I was allowed in and when that happened, S- called 911.  So did my friend, so the police and an ambulance arrived promptly.

At first the police thought I was high on drugs, but my friend explained that was "not my style".  I was strapped into a stretcher and placed in the ambulance.  Now that the supposed threat of death at the hands of S- seemed unlikely, my brain made up another scenario to fill my mind with dread.  At the hospital I lied about my name, because I felt my old me was "cursed" and if I used my middle name, I could start fresh, and avoid whatever doom my brain was cooking up.

They ran tests, and kept me in the emergency room.  I had time to let my racing mind calm down a little, and suddenly I felt like S- wasn't my enemy, and I wanted to see him.  I ran into the waiting room, where I saw him sitting with a dear family friend.  I'm going to be mentioning a lot of friends today.  The support our family received from our community was amazing, and I will never forget it.  Anyway, I invited both of them to my room, and I asked where N- was, and S- assured me she was with his dad.

Relieved that my daughter was safe, I was able to focus on the "labyrinth" of the hospital.  My brain framed the hospital like it was a game, and I would have to pass an unknown number of levels before I would be able to leave.  So every time a nurse, doctor, or social worker would meet me, I would get anxious about their questions, especially if they asked me about my daughter and where she was, I wanted to protect her even with my mind completely on the fritz.

I was admitted and brought to an observation room, and for a time S- was able to stay with me.  But eventually he had to leave.  And thus began the roughest, longest night of my life to date.  All I will say is that the dread that had gripped me became full fledged terror, and I had to be strapped down and sedated.  The next thing I knew it was a new day and I was in a psychiatric ward.  I’d met my psychiatrist and therapist on the previous day, and they continued to visit me.  My parents had driven through a blizzard to be there to support us, and as soon as I was allowed to receive visitors, friends would visit.

I needed medication to help my brain heal.  It took time, but eventually I was allowed to go down to the cafeteria and go for coffee or ice cream with loved ones, and then I was even allowed to go home for the weekend, and eventually I was discharged, and my new reality was faithfully taking my medication, dealing with the side effects from said medication (which weren't too bad if I'm honest), regularly seeing my therapist and also seeing my psychiatrist, and rebuilding my relationship with S-.

Then in the fall, psychosis number two occurred.  Now we're not sure what happened exactly.  I had been taking both a mood stabilizer and an anti-psychotic, and when the second psychosis hit I was only taking the mood stabilizer, I had been weaned off of the anti-psychotic.  Also, my husband was worried about my thyroid, so he had done some research and found a root that would help, but it is very possible this herbal supplement interfered with my medication.  Like I said, we don't know what happened.

This time, S- did not wait for me to run out of the apartment screaming.  He detected the shift in my mood and thought process and insisted on taking me to the hospital.  I was sure he was wrong, there was nothing wrong in my mind, so I willingly accompanied him to the Emergency.  I was almost offended when they admitted me.  While psychosis number one was all about dread and terror, psychosis number two was full blown euphoric.  You know the lyrics: "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine"?  That was where my brain was at.  The second psychosis was harder to recover from, because my brain had so recently been through that strain, and now I had to piece my reality and sanity back together.  But I did it.  I'll tell you how, tomorrow.

[crimberly]

Rambling here because tumblr feels safer to post on. Also I just want to share the steps I have taken: This is a story about recovery.

Content warning: mental health, depression, body image, transphobia

I feel just like happy-venting. I been recovering from cPTSD and was never diagnosed with a few mental health conditions that would of been very important to know. Like... autism lol. Trauma off-set major burnout that lead me to losing control of my life and suffering major agoraphobia. Like never leaving my home. There were times I could never see myself going outside again, everything gave me panic. I was so unhappy and in this terrible pit. My spouse stepped up and helped me and I was well taken care of. But there where times I felt guilty from where I once had a job and was making our household income to just being incapable of doing necessities like getting groceries or even at one point cleaning. I spiraled, it was bad... Like severe depression not-get-out-of-bed BAD.

Now crim why are you sharing all of this? Because I think talking about recovery is important.

See my life during that time was the roughest. I won’t go into my trauma, I don't want to highlight it and I have boundaries--- but I will add an additional thing that held me back was the company I kept. To go through so much and to have a group of people not uplift me. Friend trauma... is another topic I think should be kept in mind. There was a point that some serious fallout happened over a confrontation I had with someone, lot of the issues revolving around my autism. I was expected to read the room and know my friends where upset with me when I was incapable, and then it just all blew up. Next thing I knew I was ghosted when I told them I needed space to heal from the interaction. My entire friend group I have known since high school just ghosted me.

I blamed myself. Clearly I was a terrible person. I always fucked up. I was unlikable. At least that’s what I told myself at the time. To be frank, if this ever makes the rounds and if you were in that friend group. You were abusers. There were people who called me stupid, I was always the joke. Even when I said I didn't like something you made me feel like I was too sensitive and the only one with a problem. You sat there and held past mistakes over peoples heads. Had unfair expectations, and expected people to adhere to your time but never respected mine. All while I had undiagnosed ASD.

Then I found out I was transgender. My world continued to crumble.

But again this is a recovery story. While yes, most of my friendships are online and even if some hiccups happened. I made new friends. I felt like I was cringey and sometimes I feel like I say dumb things. But the thing is, even if I did, people always held me up and made me feel appreciated and listened to. I started to learn that I was indeed likable. It never made sense to me but this is where a major shift started to happen. There where transphobic people and others that never accepted me. But for those who did and have stayed with me, you helped my trauma riddled brain piece together the pieces of what healthy human friendships actually look like. For that I will always be grateful and hold you all dearly in my heart. Confrontations seemed less and less scary to me. I started to learn that I wouldn’t have people just yell at me if we disagreed. And people just wanted me to feel comfortable and happy.

And the trans thing... OH LET ME TELL YOU BEING TRANS in 2019-2023 (when im writing this) I HAVE LEARNED TO TRULY AND UTTERLY NOT GIVE A FUCK AND SELF LOVE.

When the entire world sometimes feels like it hates you, and you are the center of a “lol culture war”. When everyone looks at you and thinks you are deranged... When your EXISTENCE is political. You learn how to not give a fuck. I will be the first to tell you being trans is harder than being a US Navy sailor/airman. Because surprise, Im a US Navy Veteran, and Im trans. Oh and covid didn’t help my agoraphobia either.

Finding myself and learning that I was trans, meeting healthy friends and getting diagnosed with autism has saved my life. I am the happiest I have been, and I can see more happiness is in store for me in the future. Therapy of course, but I have been going to therapy for years even when I shut down. I have been in therapy since I was in the military back in 2015. But what has truly saved my life is just embracing myself and learning that I am important. How can I be a good friend/partner/caregiver if I cannot love myself and let myself just be who I am? This of course took years and time to gather my thoughts around, I still struggle with dysphoria and body image issues, but I no longer internally abuse myself. Instead I go “oh Im not where I would like to be but I will get there maybe.” So I started buying what I want, I started doing my hair how I want. TRANS JOY is important. I got with a doctor who has helped me learn a lot of what I did was just autism. I started working out to feel good for the HEALTH benefits and not for body-image issues. I eat things that make me feel good and that I like. I take care of myself now, even if I still struggle.

I also have learned I never was a bad person, I was just autistic. My body didn't feel like mine? Shit I m trans. Feel like Im cringey and I say stupid things? It ok your friends still care and enjoy your company, they will tell you if you go over boundaries. The world started to feel less scary. Covid? Do what you can to personally be safe and responsible. Mask up, wash your hands. Its ok if you dont wanna talk or engage with people in the store. Take headphones to ignore everyone and just get your shampoo and go.

People became less scary. Someone passes by you and they give you a funny look? Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe they are having a bad day. Im in a public space Im ok. If I bother them...oh well, Im here for milk. If I bother them while buying milk that says more about them than me. But I digress. Recovery is like a roller coaster and it takes a very long time. I started taking walks. Started sitting in the car. Told myself if I was scared of driving I would drive when not many people where on the road. But you see where this is going. Learning who I am, loving who I am. Forgiving myself is what got me here.  But that took time and effort, therapy and changing my social circles. But today I went to the store, got my medication, I made a hair appointment and I will be going by myself. I have stuffed animals with scent-disks in them that help me unwind when home. And now I’m contacting a community college to start going for a summer mini-semester. A year ago I could never see myself doing any of this.

But you know what I think about now that I don’t use all that energy mentally hurting myself? I want to go on hikes, I wanna ride bikes. I wanna go out and see the world. I want to meet people. I want to explore. I don’t just wanna experience it in a video game, I want to live these things that make me feel alive. I want to draw, share stories, have good times. I want to experience sunlight, I want to see a field of flowers--- so much more--- I want to live. 

And before covid, I could not leave my bed and going to go get my mail gave me a panic attack.

I just wanted to share this. Maybe it wont go anywhere or reach anyone, maybe it will. But I just want you all to know you matter and embracing joy and love is life saving. Recovery is not easy. Recovery takes time. It’s rocky, messy and feels so unpredictable. However if you are ever in that pit, and feel like there is no light at the end of the tunnel. That you feel incapable to get where you wanna be. I will be honest with you, Im autistic I refuse to beat around the bush. It all starts with steps. Small steps and knowing that there is fulfilling experiences waiting for you.

You never know who you will meet, who will become a friend, and what little joys you will experience.

[blutomindpretzel]

Hc that Lovely was really close with Xavier when they first enrolled at DAMN. Xavier was super outgoing and friendly, and made an effort to show Lovely around and invite them to his games. He helped Lovely gain more confidence in their powers (alongside Vincent ofc), and they grew to be super close friends. (They’d have nights in his dorm playing Mario kart and eating gummies after Seven-Eleven runs.)

So when Lovely finally decided to check out the night-classes at DAMN post-Inversion, and looked for Xavier, only to ask around and find out he had died during Inversion. Their heart completely dropped before they quietly thanked the person for their time and zipped home.

[reigenhusband]

Psychic Wedding Time!

Art by @/cowboyologist

After months of holding back, we finally tied the ole knot! Me and the conman are officially hitched today September 10, 2021!

This silly little blonde anime man means an awful lot to me and its really more than I can say. These months with him have been a great help.

When I went through some of the roughest things I've ever gone through, I had him to think about for comfort. He is a little part in what keeps me going and I wish I could thank him for everything. He sparks a lot of joy so I think I'm gonna keep him!

I've never been happier and I'm so lucky to call him husband! He's had such a positive impact and I love him so, so much.

Special thank you to my friends and of course our son Mob who carried the rings!

Under the cut is a little fic about getting ready for the wedding. Thanks everyone for your support!

Reigen squinted at his reflection, dark eyes hauntingly focused on a strand of hair that didn't take to the product he put in it. A grunt of dismay rumbled low in his throat.

"Um…Reigen?" 

"Just a second, Serizawa. Almost got it."

The taller man's voice wavered but he managed to hold fast and keep his confidence. Reigen could almost hear his hands wringing. 

"Er...Well. Its just...you've been staring at yourself for a little over 20 minutes now and you haven't moved and…"

Reigen sucked his teeth and pressed his palm firmly to the side of his head. Damned strand of hair! Slick like the rest of it! Don't you know know day it is?!

"What I mean is..! Are you alright?" Serizawa finally asked, his voice heavy with concern. "Since it's your wedding and all I figured you'd be nervous but you seem really on edge. Is something bothering you?" 

The blonde twitched.

 "W...what are you talking about? Of course not! I'm calm and-" He stopped abruptly and slammed his hands flat on either side of the mirror, his eyes wide and bloodshot upon inspection of his suit. A fleck of black thread pervaded his white vest and he looked around frantically for the lint roller. "You thought you could hide but you can't best Reigen Arataka." He muttered as he furiously went over his all but pristine wedding attire. 

His best man scratched his own cheek nervously and looked on with clear uncertainty. "If you're sure." 

Once he was satisfied after a thorough inspection and having Serizawa scrutinize the back, he dropped into a chair. Nearby was a table decorated in what was probably a thousand congratulatory flowers from clients. He exhaled and stared a hole into the arrangement of colors. His heart was pounding. His brow, coupled with his hands, were visibly slick with chilled sweat. His stomach was full of stones. 

He met his own gaze in the mirror again. He looked well kept and yet...disheveled at the same time. Come to think of it, his face was flushed the shade of his usual pink tie. The last 3 days without sleep also hollowed out dark circles under his eyes. His shirt collar began to feel more and more constricting as time went on no matter how much he tugged on it. 

Maybe he really was scared. 

He didn't doubt that he loved Mitty. In fact, he wanted to be with him more than anyone. A case of cold feet wouldn't change that. It was himself he was wrestling with here. 

Spirits, monsters, and deadly espers. He'd faced them all and came out on top. But they were nothing compared to these looming expectations to be a person to rely on. This wasn't something he could bullshit his way through. This was marriage. Mitty was going to see the warted underbelly of when he was Reigen the man instead of Reigen the psychic. His fiancé was going to experience sides of him he only revealed when he was alone. Would he still like him even then?

Reigen was good at a lot of things but this had to be the one that counted most. Could he really be a good partner forever? 

Was he really going to cut it as a husband? 

"Hey, Serizawa?" Reigen asked, not looking at him. 

The man's shoulders lurched at his name suddenly being called. He straightened his back. "Oh! Yes sir?"

"Do you think we'll be good together?" 

Silence sat heavily for a moment. Every second felt longer than the last. 

His friend seemed taken aback by the question but nonetheless looked at the ceiling as though collecting the right words to answer. "Well…"

Another moment passed and Reigen waited with his hands clasped and breath baited. 

"I've never been with anyone so I can't say for certain what a good relationship is but," A compassionate smile spread across the esper's face before he continued, visibly more sure of his words. "I think you and Mr. Mitty understand each other. You always seem to know what the other is thinking. You motivate each other to be better and you seem happy when you're together. And...and you trust each other too. And I think that's whats important." 

Reigen looked at the velveted floor. "Then…"  

"You've become more honest by being with him and he talks like you're really important to him. So please...get married if it makes you both happy! I think you can really be something!" His friend was beaming with 

what Reigen could only say was genuine assurance. 

"I really believe you'll take care of each other." 

His co-worker actually really was resourceful. Maybe someday he ought to pay him more. The uncomfortable feelings waned slightly and his shoulders slowly slacked. Mitty was waiting for him so now wasn't the time to lose it. 

After a few seconds of letting his feelings iron themselves out, he stood and smoothed his hands over his suit jacket. "Well alright then. If thats what you think then I guess there's no backing out of this one." 

Serizawa pressed his hands together in delight. "YES! I've got your back, Reigen!" 

The door into the hallway opened and a set of black eyes peered into the room. "Master, It's starting. Are you coming?" 

The jarring announcement had him scrambling to fix the piece of hair he'd been fussing with. 

"OF COURSE." He jabbed his thumb into his own chest to feign total confidence. "Right behind you, Mob!" 

He held his breath. Alright, let's do this. 

Mitty POV

Teal eyes darted around the room carefully. 

"Hey...Dimple? You there?"

The whizzing of the spirit materializing buzzed next to his ear. 

"Yeah whaddya want? You're on soon, aren't you?" 

Mitty jabbed his right hook into the air where the voice was coming from. "AGH WHAT THE HELL?"

A swift flash of green dodged his reach. 

"HEY, why are you hitting me?! You asked for ME, remember?" The ghost clucked his tongue in disapproval and floated a few inches away for safety. 

"WELL MATERIALIZE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU, YOU BIG BOOGER! I'm on edge!" 

"On edge? What for? You're the one who wanted this, right?"

"W..well….yeah, sorry." He looked at his clenched fist and opened it. "...sorry." He said again more thoughtfully this time. 

Dimple raised a spectral eyebrow. "Whats wrong? Having second thoughts? I mean it's Reigen so who can blame ya."

Mitty scowled while straightening his tie in the mirror. "Hey! REIGEN'S…." His voice softened closer to a whisper. "A pretty good guy. Get off my case. Aren't you supposed to be my support? You're being kinda harsh!" 

"Well kid, something is obviously on your mind so let's hear it. Wedding starts soon right? Yeesh. Once you do all this he's your problem forever." 

"I'm not worried about him!! I'm more worried about...me."

"About you? What're you talkin' about?! You're too good for him!"

"Thanks for the flattery. You still can't have my body though."

"Well I didn't want it anyways, ya bastard. You're weak compared to Shigeo. I'm just being honest here!" 

Silence.

"So? Out with it, What did you want anyways? You're talking nonsense here!" 

Mitty wrinkled his nose in discomfort.  "I just needed to ask something. But you can't run your mouth off like you always do, you old gossip. You're like a knitting circle."

"TCH. like I'd blabber your business to someone. It's all so boring."

"Yeah, yeah just listen, alright?!"

Another few seconds passed. "So? Say it. We don't have all day, you know."

He was looking at his hands again like he was somewhere far off. "Well. D...D'you think I'll be good at this?" 

"Good at what, exactly?" 

"Being married." 

Dimple's form rippled with thought. "You're seriously worried about that?"

Mitty was going to make a sharp remark but his head dropped and his face buried into his knuckles. "Yeah."

Dimple deflated slightly in exasperated defeat. Humans could be so ignorant. 

"Listen. That fraud never shuts up about you. You think you're not good enough? You should hear him talk. It's annoying how you both don't realize things."

"Realize things?"

He sighed and shrugged his tiny arms. "I hear everything whether you like it or not. You two idiots never stop talking and moaning about the other is too good for the other. It's getting old, really." 

"HUH? He says that? No way! But he's always beaten me at everything! I always thought he was way out of my league." 

 "Kinda the opposite actually but...sure. What I'm saying is…! You're both seeing the best parts of each other. Keep doing that and it'll be smooth sailing."

"Yeah but...what if he stops seeing the best in me?'

"You planning on making things hard?" 

"Not really. I just know I can be difficult to deal with." 

"So is he. You really think you got this far because Reigen's all roses and sunshine? 'Course not. You've seen all the stuff he does and you still like him, right?" 

He certainly was flawed, that was for sure. Mitty spent most of Reigen's antics with his eyes rolled up in his head but that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the moment either. 

"Right."

"Then it's the same for him. Sure it won't always be fun but that phoney won't give up on you just because you're annoying. He's way too persistent. It kind of ticks me off." 

I'm annoying???  That stung but he shook it off.

Reigen was going to have to deal with him for the rest of his life once they said the right words. But if Dimple was right...would it be so bad to annoy each other for the rest of their lives if the other was willing to put up with it? 

Reigen seemed okay with it so far. Mitty would just have to listen to him make a fuss about his coffee table clutter until he died. But really, he wouldn't have that any other way. His voice was kind of cute when he hit that inhuman octave he had when he was in disbelief. 

The door from the hall swung open and a blond clad in what was perhaps the most blinding and loud suit he had ever seen poked his head in. 

"Oh, You're still in here? It's bad luck to be late on your wedding day! Master Reigen is waiting. " He cocked his head to the side. "Or did you need some help with your suit? Its looking a little plain." 

Hanazawa. This kid would try to accessorize his suit in the worst way possible. He put up his hands to wave him off. 

"N-nah, kiddo that's alright. I'll be right there."

Hanazawa, after a few more attempts to get Mitty to let him help retreated back into the hallway. When it was quiet again he eyed Dimple. He was abrasive and unpleasant. He always had a motive for everything and rarely had something nice to say. 

But he came through when it mattered. 

"Hey Dimple?" 

"Yeah? What is it?" 

"Thanks." 

Dimple wouldn't meet his eyes and levitated towards the hall. He didn't want to acknowledge he was helping, he supposed. It was in character for that tsundere blob.

"You ought to get out of here now if you wanna make it on time." 

He stood and dusted himself off. 

"Welp. Here goes everything."

[trenchcoatimpala]

So I was thinking about Dean burying Cas in the ma’lak box and this happened.

wc: 1.6k

also on archive

“Dean, I can’t let you do this,” Sam said as Dean stepped into the Impala. 

“I have to,” Dean replied, his voice was taut as he tried to hold back tears. 

“No, you don’t.” 

“He won’t stop, Sammy. He’s never going to stop.” Dean felt the words break as they tumbled from his mouth, shattering in the air. 

“But it’s Cas,” Sam argued. 

“I know,” Dean choked out as he reached for the door so he could pull it closed, shutting out Sam’s protests. 

“Dean!” Sam’s muffled voice reached Dean’s ears but he paid his brother no mind. 

Before he could allow himself to falter, he put the Impala in reverse and left the motel parking lot, leaving Sam staring after him. 

The drive to the bunker wasn’t a long one, but it was the most agonizing thirty minutes of Dean’s life. 

When he stepped outside, the world seemed to stop. There were no sounds of creatures scuffling among leaves, no calls of birds, no rustle of branches as the trees talked to each other. Everything was quiet, as if the planet were holding its breath, waiting. 

Dean’s footsteps echoed loudly in his ears as he entered the bunker and walked slowly down the stairs. The main room was dim, only one light was on at the middle library table. 

Dean’s mouth suddenly went dry and he had to clear his throat to get his voice to work. “Cas?” he called out warily. A shadow appeared from behind a post and Dean’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Cas,” he said as he took a step towards the shadow. 

“Dean.” Cas’s reply was merely a whisper. His voice was nothing more than a rasp, as if it had been dragged across rocks and whipped by the roughest of waves. “I didn’t think you’d come.” 

Dean swallowed back the tears that wanted to spill across his cheeks. “I had to.” 

“And what of Sam?” 

“He tried to stop me.” 

Cas took a staggering step forward, bracing himself against the table with the light on. “Is he far behind you?” 

Dean nearly gasped at Cas’s appearance. His eyes were sunken in their sockets, their color, once bright blue, was now dulled and drained. Blood soaked the left side of his face and coated his trench coat and shirt. 

Dean forced himself to reply to Cas’s question. “He’s not coming.” 

Cas nodded slowly, the motion seemed to take over his whole body, causing him to shake and tremble. “Good.” When Dean failed to speak, Cas let out a sigh. “Let’s get this over with, then.” 

“I don’t want to do this,” Dean said quietly. 

“Neither do I,” Cas admitted. “But I am beyond saving.” 

“I thought that way once,” Dean replied as he allowed himself a single step closer to where Cas stood. “But I was wrong. There’s still time for you, we can figure something out.” 

“No!” Cas roared. 

And there it was, the anger born by the mark. 

Dean knew firsthand how hard it was to keep that anger buried, it scratches and claws at the corners of your mind until finally it manages to break free. For Cas to have held it back this long was impressive. 

“Cas,” Dean began. 

“I said no,” Cas snapped. “There’s no way out of it this time, Dean. You know what you have to do.” 

Dean’s tears finally fell. “I can’t.” 

“You can,” Cas hissed as he gripped the edge of the table so hard the wood groaned under his hand. “And you will. You have to.” 

Dean shook his head. “No, no, Cas, please don’t make me.” 

“Dean,” Cas’s tone was hard yet it held the smallest glimmer of sympathy. “I’m barely keeping everything at bay. My grace is fighting the effects of the mark, but it won’t be long before the mark takes over completely. We’re running out of time, this has to be done, while I’m still in control.” 

It was true. All of it was true. Cas had already killed so many during moments when he lost himself to the mark. An angel with the power of the mark was unstoppable, the world would be demolished if such a being were allowed to continue to roam freely.

“I need you to do this for me, I can’t do it alone.” 

“I know,” Dean whispered into the silent bunker. 

“Then take me to the box.” 

Dean hesitated and Cas let out a snarl. 

“The longer we delay, the faster I lose this battle.” 

“Okay, okay,” Dean said, holding up his hands. “This way.” 

Dean led Cas down the bunker hallway into the dungeon where the Ma’lak box waited, open and ready. 

Cas stopped in front of it, eyes trained on the metal carvings and nodded. “This should do.” 

Cas moved to climb into it but Dean put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Wait.” 

The angel looked like he was about to argue but he only sighed. “What is it?” The barest glimpse of the old Castiel came through in the way Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. 

“You need to know something before you do this.” 

“What?” 

Dean faltered, fumbling with his hands while he tried to calm the slamming of his heart in his chest. He managed to raise his head to meet Cas’s gaze and he swallowed as his eyes dipped to Cas’s lips. 

Words would fail Dean, he knew that, so he took the chance to express his feelings in action instead. He surged forward, pushing Cas back against the door and connecting their lips in a bruising kiss. Dean didn’t expect Cas to kiss back, but he did, hard and passionate. 

When they pulled apart, Dean saw tears in Cas’s eyes. “Dean,” he breathed. 

“I love you,” Dean said before he could lose his nerve. 

Cas sighed, his eyes suddenly regaining a tiny bit of that brightness they used to always carry. “I love you too.” 

“Then don’t do this,” Dean pleaded. “Please. Stay, let me figure something else out.” 

Cas shook his head, sadness arresting his features. “I can’t.” 

Dean’s heart broke inside him, each piece lodging itself into his chest as pain tore through him. He bent his forehead against the angel’s and pressed another kiss to his lips. 

“Cas,” his voice broke and Cas reached a hand to cup his face. 

“Dean we have to hurry, if we delay any longer I’m afraid I might hurt you.” 

Dean took in Castiel for the last time. The set of his shoulders, the curve of his jaw, the oceans that were his eyes, the outline of his lips. 

He knew they were out of time. He had to say goodbye. 

“Okay,” he whispered as tears slid down his cheeks. 

Cas carefully stepped away from Dean and headed towards the box. Dean moved to help him and the second that his hand landed on Cas’s back, he sensed the change. 

Faced with an eternity in a box, the part of Cas that bore the mark must have broken free. 

A hand swung towards Dean’s face as a blood-curdling scream tore out of Cas’s mouth. He could barely see through his tears as he blocked Cas’s blows. 

“Cas, please,” he begged as he held Cas back against the box. 

Cas struggled in his grip, a grin spreading across his face. “You’re no match for me.” 

Dean released Cas momentarily and the angel moved to attack him again, but Dean was faster. The angel blade he’d tucked into the waistband of his jeans was in his hand before Cas could take another step and soon it was embedded in Cas’s chest. 

Cas gasped as his grace poured through his mouth, destroying everything that was left of the angel the mark had made its puppet. 

Cas slumped against the box, limp, and Dean collapsed beside him. The pieces of his broken heart wedged themselves deeper into his chest and he sobbed as he pulled Cas’s body onto his lap, rocking him as he held him tightly. 

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “Cas, I’m so sorry.” 

Castiel was dead. 

The thing that would soon wake up in the angel’s body would not be someone that Dean knew, it would be a twisted and soulless perversion of Castiel, and not something Dean could ever face. 

Summoning as much strength as his body could manage, he lifted Cas into the box and arranged him against the cold metal. 

Dean allowed himself a few moments to look at his best friend, the love of his life, in his final resting place. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Cas’s forehead. 

“I love you,” he whispered over another sob. 

He reached up to close and lock the box and then he called Sam. 

“It’s done.” 

“So what’s next?” Sam asked. 

“The ocean. I’ll meet up with you after.” 

****

Dean headed to the docks, where he boarded a small fishing ship filled with men that didn’t ask questions. They took Dean out as far as they could and just as he moved to toss the box over the side, Dean heard Cas wake up. 

“Let me out!” he screamed. 

Hearing Cas’s voice, but knowing it wasn’t Cas, drove a dagger into Dean’s already destroyed heart. 

The thing inside the box suddenly quieted and a small plea reached Dean’s ears. “Dean, please.” 

Before Dean could do something stupid, like open the box, he pushed it over the edge of the ship, and watched as it sank, carrying Cas with it. 

“Goodbye, Cas,” he choked out.

Dean collapsed once it was out of sight. He cried so hard he couldn’t breathe, his chest was constricting and he had half a mind to tie anchors to his feet and jump in after the box. 

But he didn’t.

When Dean returned, Sam didn’t try to console him, and Dean was grateful for it. He wanted to be left alone to grieve. 

With Cas buried, everything looked completely hopeless. Chuck might be gone, but they were still losing to the monsters, and the future didn’t look bright. Dean wasn’t one to give up, but sometimes giving up was the only option, and Dean was inclined to accept that the end was upon them.  

Without Cas there was nothing to live for anyway.

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[zukkaoru]

Top 5 comfort characters? <3

only five?? okay well let's see here,,

(in no particular order)

1. thalia grace (riordanverse)

literally she is everything to me. i formed an unhealthy emotional attachment to her from the moment i met her at the end of sea of monsters and it has not gone away. my username on my personal instagram account was literally thalia.grace._ until partway through high school. when my friends and i were in middle school, we assigned each other fictional characters from the riordanverse that we would be and i was thalia because she was my favorite. i simply adore her. if i'm asked for my top fictional character of all time, i always default to her bc she's been everything to me since i was ten years old (wait i just realized that's literally half my life what the frick)

2. robin hood (once upon a time)

there's just something about characters who deserve so much more than what they're given that makes me attach myself to them. and there's something about the way that he looked past regina's flaws and her dark past and loved her anyways. the way he was selfless and kind and loyal. the way he poured himself out into everyone he ever loved so much that he might have lost who he was in the process. the way that he helped me through one of the roughest parts of my life from beyond the grave. literally he deserved so much better and if i think about it for too long i will scream and tear my hair out

3. cherry blossom / kaoru sakurayashiki (sk8 the infinity)

he's my baby my partner my father my mother my poor little meow meow-- no okay but seriously i love cherry too much for it to be healthy. i have never felt as much gender envy as i do whenever i see him. it's about hiding your emotions under false apathy bc you can't get hurt if you don't let anyone close enough to hurt you. it's about hardly ever letting anyone close enough to see the real you. it's about losing yourself in the personas you display for other people to the point where you don't even know who the real you is. why do i love so many characters with identity issues. but it's also about feeling the betrayal of the full swing kiss deep in my chest because yeah. i get it. i get putting your trust into someone who made you empty promises because you were young and naïve only for them to turn on you and say you aren't worth their time. it's about learning that closure comes in many forms and sometimes, you have to teach yourself to be okay with what you got. it's about finding the people who are willing to put in the work it takes to break your walls down and who aren't scared away by the defense mechanisms you've spent years perfecting. it's about slowly but surely allowing yourself to open up to love again. i just. i have a lot of feelings

4. zuko & mai (avatar: the last airbender)

they come together because they're besties. also bc i can't choose one over the other and i have one more character i need to do for 5. but anyways. it's about learning to love who you are despite being raised in a society that told you you could never be lovable unless you managed to conform to their impossible standards. it's about learning to stop trying to reach that love you can never win and instead living your truth. for zuko, it's about overcoming the cycle of hatred you've been taught and raised in. for mai, it's about needing to look like you don't care because you've been taught caring (or expressing any emotion, for that matter) is bad. and it's about finding the people who love you for who you are instead of who they think you could be.

5. simon saunders (rise)

oh boy. oh boy. you know when you start watching a tv show or reading a book or whatever, and for the first time in your life, you see a character who is just. you? yeah. that was me with simon. the religious guilt over your sexuality? struggling with what you believe vs what you want to believe? wanting to go after love but being terrified of your parents' reactions and God's reaction and not knowing whether or not you believe the love you want is sinful? yeah. yeah. simon was the first character i came into contact with who fully and entirely resonated with me, down to the bone, into my soul, so deeply it hurt. wherever he is now, i hope he's doing well

[afictionalwhore]

Learning Your Lesson

A/N: This isn't the first fanfic I've written, but it's the first I've finished. It's on the darker side, which I have no problem writing, I don't want my blog to be only that. That Keishin kitchen one is coming I just gotta get through finals. Thank you @kogo for the idea! You mentioned it, so I took it and bolted. 

TW: noncon/dubcon, yandere, phone sex, masturbation, implied drinking

"Baby," Hawks cooed into the phone, "what's wrong?"

It was in the middle of his night patrol when you called him, the ringtone specifically set for you jingling throughout the empty streets from his jacket pocket. When he picked up, he was met with your soft sobs on the other end of the line. 

"Keigo?" Your voice barely audible. "Can you come get me? I don't want to talk about it here."

"(y/n), what's the matter," Hawks says, voice dropping an octave.

“You were right, Keigo,” you sob. “I shouldn’t have gone. I shouldn’t have gone out tonight.”

“(Y/n),” Hawks said, the seriousness in his voice chilling you more thoroughly than the night air. “What happened?” He was growing restless, pacing the same alleyway. He told you not to go out. You should have listened to him. You should always listen to him. He can only hope you learned your lesson this time. 

Since you and the Number 2 Hero began dating, Hawks had grown increasingly paranoid about your safety. If it had been anyone else, Hawks' possessiveness over you could have been seen as controlling; you told yourself that he only had your safety in mind. Dating a pro hero, especially such a high ranking one, came with its dangers, and your quirklessness made you an even easier target. If anything happened to you, Hawks wouldn't know what to do with himself, a fact he constantly reminded you of. 

You insisted on going out with your friends tonight. “Keigo,” you whined, stretching his name out like you were one of his teenage fans, “Please. I haven’t seen them in months.” You were just a quirkless nobody, making minimum wage and barely scraping by to make rent and survive your shitty neighborhood. Scratch the latter bit. You were just a quirkless nobody, but since your relationship with Hawks kicked off, the pro had moved you into his apartment, a much safer, much more suitable place for you, and you know longer had to worry about your safety. Except on occasions like these. Your friends, all either quirkless or with minor quirks that would be useless in protecting you should anything happen, were gathering to celebrate an engagement, and surprise surprise they invited you.

Hawks tried his best to persuade you otherwise, listing all the dangers of going out without him, or going out at all, especially when you were dressed like that. Your little skirt falling just over your ass. Anyone could drop their wallet behind you and sneak a peek up your skirt. Your shirt was much too tight; and where was your jacket? You're just showing off the goods for everyone, like you were asking for something to happen.

But you could not, would not be swayed. You missed your friends. Though you loved Hawks, “It's Keigo, baby,” he would insist, you craved your friendships, and you were overjoyed to find that they didn’t hate you for practically disappearing on them since your relationship with Hawks, "Keigo", had become serious. 

“What happened?” Hawks repeated, his impatience growing.

“It all happened so quickly,” you sobbed.

“(y/n),” Hawks quite nearly growled out. “What. Happened.” You were really testing him right now, what with interrupting his patrol, albeit his boring, uneventful patrol. How could he help you when you weren't telling him what was wrong.

"I was leaving the bar. You remember which one?" Your voice shook. Hawks held back a scoff. Of course he knew where the bar was. It was the very bar frequented by the League, nestled neatly into the roughest area of town; it's inexpensiveness appealing to your friends' cheapness more than the potential danger drove them away. He told you they couldn't be trusted.

"Well I was leaving," You must be shaking like a leaf. Hawks can hear it in your voice. "And I get this feeling, like someone's following me. So I walk faster, and I—" you cut. Soft cries filled Hawks' ears as he listened.

Hawks can feel himself growing tighter in his pants as you cry. He knows where this is heading. He told you not to go, but you didn't listen. It would be rude of you to ask them to reschedule to a date when Hawks could more easily pick you up, or even better, accompany you. You were too overjoyed when they reached out with an invitation despite your disappearance in their life. But now here you were, sobbing—god how he loved your cries—to him over the phone because some asshole had roughed you up a bit. What did you expect leaving The League of Villains' bar alone at this ungodly hour? 

As angry as he was over your stupidity, he couldn't deny how hot you sounded in your current state. His arousal was confirmed by the decent tent forming in his uniform pants. After a quick scan of the area, Hawks found a nearby alleyway to slip into. He was thankful his designated area to patrol tonight was rather unlively. Leaning against the rough bricks, Hawks found himself quickly undoing his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free himself. 

"Go on, baby," Hawks said. It took all his self control not to let so much as a slight hitch in his voice show as he encouraged you to talk.

"Keigo, please. I don't know why I have to tell you all right now." you sobbed. "Please, just come get me."

"Baby," Hawks drawled, suppressing a moan as he languidly stroked himself up to full hardness. "I don't want you to have to relive this more than you have to. So you just tell me now, as detailed as possible. I can fill out whatever reports you would need to for you, and you won't ever have to think about this again." It was hard for you to argue with Hawks in your fragile state. “I know what’s best for you, baby bird. Tell me everything.”

So you did. You told Keigo all about the strange man who you guessed had followed you out of the bar. Who would just be lurking outside the League's bar waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting quirkless? Hawks would bet his next several paychecks just who would be doing exactly that.

You told Hawks about the rough, calloused hand over your mouth accompanied by the low voice in your ear whispering that if you so much as made a squeak, you'd be cremated on the spot. Bingo. At least he wasn't losing much in a bet against himself. Judging by the state of his hard cock in his gloved hand, he was actually winning here. 

Hawks would have just laughed at you had he not been so fucking turned on. He would have to look past that cheesy "cremation" line. How did you not know who was lurking around the sleazy bar waiting for a hot piece of meat, for you, to stumble out the bar, drunk and alone. Were you always such an idiot? How did you ever survive without him?

You told him about how you had been unceremoniously dragged into the alley next to the bar and shoved face first into the bricks of one of the bar's outer walls. Hawks' eyes fluttered shut, his mouth hung up as his head fell back against the wall he braced himself against. His fist picked up the pace, imagining your soft protests and how lovely your weak, slurred cries of "please no" would have sounded as your skirt was flipped up and panties ripped through. Knowing your attacker, a hole very well could have been burned through for easy access. He'd have to check once he got you home and asleep. 

Hawks continued pumping himself as you continued your sob fest, jerking his foreskin up and down over his angry almost purple head. God how he wished to be there, listening to your sobs, cooing at you that everything was going to be okay as he kissed your tear stained, brick scratched cheeks and stroked a finger over that pretty, abused pussy of yours.

His gloved thumb rubbing over his slit, as he pictured how badly your insides were wrecked, how that jacob's ladder would have scraped against your warm plush walls. Were you even wet? You had to be. After all, only a slut would have gone out when he told them otherwise. He could only imagine how rough the man in question was with you and your pliant body. In your drunken state, how hard could you have fought back? Not very hard, Hawks had gotten you nice and drunk quite a number of times, and that was exactly why he protested you going out in the first place. His breathing grew heavier the closer he came to his release.

"Keigo?" your feeble voice called out over the phone's speaker. "Are you okay?"

"Yea, baby. I'm okay." Hawks collected himself. Pull yourself together, man. "Are you okay? I'm just so angry." that you didn't listen to me. 

"Keigo, are you close?" Oh he was close alright. Just a few more strokes, a few more sniffles and whines from you, and he would be right there. 

“Please, Keigo. Hurry up. I’m cold and scared. Keigo, I’m so scared.” That's all he needed.

“I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.” Hawks said, praying you couldn’t hear the breathlessness in his voice. His brilliant wings puffed and gave a few strained flutters before shaking tensely as his hand stilled and streaks of hot white fell on the dirty street below him. You weren’t the most intuitive, so you’d probably attribute it to his anger.

With his lust no longer clouding his mind, a sudden worry stuck Hawks. 

"Did he cum in you?" Hawks practically growled.

"What? No. Why are you asking me this?" your confusion briefly pausing your sobs.

"Just checking to see if you need me to make a stop by the pharmacy," Hawks explained as he stuffed himself back in his pants. "I'm on my way. I just have to make a quick call, baby. I love you." He zipped himself up and fixed his belt back into place. He shook out and stretched his wings. Hawks couldn't remember ever cumming that hard. 

"No. Keigo, please don't hang up," you hiccuped.

"Baby, baby," Hawks cooed, "I gotta let the commission know that I'm taking off early. You don't think I'd just continue working after this?" A smirk worked its way onto his handsome face. He could imagine your cute face scrunched into a pout. "Do you have that little faith in me? It's the least you could let me do before I leave patrol early for you. You think you learned your lesson?"

"Um," your voice trembles, Hawks’ last statement confusing you. "I suppose." You weren’t sure what your lesson was; you just wanted Keigo to take you home.

"Good girl,” a dark smile finds his way on Hawks’ face. I'll call you right back. I promise," Hawks reassures you, the fear in your voice as you feebly protested was almost enough to make him hard again. "I'll let you hang up, okay? I love you."

"Okay," you sniff, "I love you too." 

Hawks hears the light click signaling that you hung up and glances down at his phone for confirmation before quickly dialing another number, his smile growing darker as he waited out the ringing. After about three rings, Hawks broke out in a full smile, his crazed golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the alleyway he had hidden himself into. 

“What you do want now, ya fucking pigeon?” a rough, gravely voice answered.

“Thanks, Touya. I really owe you one.”

[heniareth]

For the OC ask meme: What does your character like in other people?, What was your OC's favorite toy/item as a child?, Under what circumstances do they find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?, How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?, In what situation was your OC the most calm they’ve ever been?, What is your favorite thing about your OC? for your Astala :) I chose one from every category. I hope that's alright. Don't feel pressed to answer all of them if it's too much :)

Heyy!! Thank you so much for the ask, this'll be fun XD Until I play the other games, it's once again time to talk about Astala Tabris.

What does your character like in other people?

On the top of the list is definitely loyalty. There's a special place in Astala's heart for loyal and dedicated people, people she can trust and rely on (almost) no matter what.

Apart from that, she likes people who are compassionate, people who are able to smile in the face of danger, people who can take a joke and fire one right back, and people who are truthful to who they are and stand up for it. If we're talking about looks, she tends to notice smiles. Somebody with a bright smile will almost never not be beautiful to her.

What was your OC’s favorite toy/item as a child?

She had a stuffed mabari that I’ve talked about here (and you’ve probably already read it, so I’m not going to repeat it). But that was her favorit toy, so there’s still a favourite item left XD

On one occasion her mother brought home a very nice pair of red boots for little Astala. They had some spots and smelled strongly of salt and algae, but they were red and warm and to die for. She was only ever allowed to wear them inside the alienage, never when they went to the market or the docks or any other place frequented by humans. Astala understood that her boots were a secret to be kept. She assumed that they’d be taken away from her if the humans saw her running around with something so nice. This made the boots all the more special, like her family’s own little rebellion. The real reason for hiding the boots, of course, was to avoid raising suspicions as to her mother’s illegal dealings. Astala wore them proudly until she outgrew them, at which point they passed on to the kid of a friend of her father’s.

Under what circumstances do they find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable?

For Astala, killing is acceptable under the following circumstances: the person is actively attacking her and/or a friend and/or somebody who’s defenseless; they don’t back down or flee when given the chance to; and/or they have done something terrible to her or to a loved one. In this last case, the word isn’t exactly “it’s acceptable” for her and more “they deserved it”. Vaughan Urien, who’s the bad guy in the city elf’s backstory, is somebody Astala has killed (partly) out of vengeance. If a person surrenders, however, or if she beats them, she’ll almost always spare them. There are a few exceptions to this, one of them being if the person in question is a parent, which... complicates the matter very much. I’m very much looking forward to what she’ll do with Loghain. On one hand, he’s made a pact with slavers and allowed them to take her people to fund his war. On the other hand, he’s Anora’s father, Anora is right there... and he has surrendered. I really don’t know what will win in this case, her outrage over the injustice done to her people or the memory of how it felt losing her mother.

How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?

She definitely has one, although I don’t quite know how to describe it. So I’m just going to show you a bit:

"Why don't we take a moment to introduce ourselves properly? I'll start." Astala sat down cross-legged, straightened her back and affixed a smile to her face. "Hi! I'm Astala Tabris. I come from the Denerim Alienage and I've been a Grey Warden for a grand total of… For how long was I out again?"

"A night and a day," the witch, Morrigan, answered.

"I've been a Grey Warden for four days, then. I like flowers and plum-filled cakes with milk and honey, and I dislike itchy clothing and working at taverns. Alistair? Your turn." She gave him a pointed look over her smile.

Alistair pulled a face. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do," Astala nodded emphatically. "What else are you gonna bond over if not my terrific style of leadership?"

Alistair sighed, but shifted into a more upright position. "Right. I'm Alistair. I've been a Grey Warden for a year and a bit. I was trained as a templar before that."

"Wonderful,” Astala said, cheerful smile still plastered on her face. “Likes and dislikes?"

"Cheese and… and darkspawn? What do you want me to say?" Alistair threw the stick he had been breaking to tiny pieces into the campfire. "Where did you get this 'bonding activity' from anyway?"

Astala’s smile grew into a grin. "Why, the Chantry-run education program for us poor alienage kids, of course.”

That’s her sense of humor. It probably carries a good dose of mischief and general tomfoolery. She likes to mess around.

In what situation was your OC the most calm they’ve ever been?

At first, I was thinking about this in terms of “in what stressful situation was your OC the most calm”. And while Astala may appear calm outwardly, it’s a mask nine times out of ten.

The most calm she’s ever been is probably a few days after defeating the Archdemon. She’s still in that kind of post-battle haze where she wants to do nothing but lie around, maybe sleep for a while, maybe eat something, and this time she actually doesn’t have to do anything but lie around (Wynne expicitly told her so). The smoke clouds over Denerim have finally vanished, she’s home, her family is safe, her companions are alive and unharmed or have been healed, the Blight is over, Zevran is there... The future is a mystery and she doesn’t know what she’ll do next with her life, but that can wait. Right now, she has a chance to rest, and she grabs it with both hands.

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

I’m very attached with her reluctance to leave anybody behind and her fear of death. It’s something I can relate to and they make for good storytelling; at one point she’ll have to decide which of the two she’d rather do >:) . I also recently decided that if she’d ever have a symbol associated to her, it’s the sea and particularly the waves crashing against a rocky cliff, tunneling through the stone and dragging gravel in and out of the tunnels in an ever-thundering cacophony of sounds. The waves just have something relentless and unstoppable about them, and they smooth out even the hardest and roughest stone. I haven’t worked out yet if Astala is the stone or the waves; probably a bit of both. But I like this piece of symbolism.

---

Thank you so much for the ask!! These questions really are a ton of fun (and I got to share some writing! Yey! :D). It’s also amazing how much they can help to flesh out characters, or to reveal things that I knew but didn’t know I knew, if that makes sense. Anyways, I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you had fun reading it as well ^^

[thefallennightmare]

Vas Prizrak-Four

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1370

Warnings: swearing, some smut, fluff, lots of angst.

Summary:  Bucky and Reader’s life in Wakanda had been everything they ever wanted. But when they are told about the fight that was on it’s way to them, they fear that life would be dusted away for good.

A/N: I’m hoping to get a few more chapters out today but who knows! Don’t forget, tags are open for this story still!

The sheets were cold, warmth fleeting a long time ago, and I cuddled the pillow closer to my chest as I tried to think it was something else. 

Someone else. 

Tears had stained the pillowcase multiple times and no matter how many times it was washed, the tears remained. The soft, quiet sobs that I tried to keep to myself, hoping I wouldn’t wake the others. But I knew that no matter how quiet I was, there was always one person there to help dry the tears. 

The first few nights were the roughest, crying out his name in my dreams. Nightmares. I couldn’t sleep because I would always see his face, his ghost haunting me. I refused to leave the room because I didn’t want to see anyone. Nat had tried bringing me something to eat a couple of times but when she came back hours later to the untouched plate still in the same spot outside the door, she gave up. 

We were all grieving, I knew that, but they didn’t know that I was grieving something extra. No one understood the pain I had gone through. 

No one. 

I knew that they were all busy looking for Thanos to undo the snap but they were all idiots. We barely made it out alive and now they want to go after him again? With less numbers? Half of the world had vanished in the snap, it was a ghost town out there. 

Again, idiots. 

Rolling over to the other side of the bed, my broken eyes glanced up to the adjacent bathroom in the room. The body stood in front of the mirror, contemplation clear on his face. He looked from the mirror to the object in his hand. His muscles tensed underneath his tank top as he leaned closer to the mirror, making his decision. 

Once finished, he looked towards my reflection in the mirror. His sad eyes raked over my body, a sigh leaving his lips. He knew that trying to get me out of bed to eat something or even take a shower was a pointless argument. I only did things on my terms, when I wanted. 

But with the broken state of myself in front of him, he knew that he couldn’t allow me to continue on like this. 

The shower had turned on with a start causing my body to jump at the noise. 

Silence was still tangled between us as he gently pulled me to my feet. I tried to fight against him but after weeks of fighting, I was tired. 

“Steve,” I muttered. 

“Don’t!” He demanded. 

Without another word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and led me towards the bathroom. He motioned towards the shower with a quick nod. 

“I’ll give you five minutes. When you’re finished, we’re going to the common room to eat something.” 

Once alone, I reluctantly stripped out of my clothes, letting the warm water cascade down over my body. The warm water had instantly relaxed the ache in my muscles and I silently cursed myself for not trying this earlier. 

Steve was the one who had helped me through the hell the last few weeks had become. I tried to sleep alone the first few nights but after the third night of screams for Bucky, Steve had brought me to his room. He refused to let me deal with this loss alone. 

We were never intimate. We did share a bed but that was it. He wouldn’t allow whatever lingering feelings he had left for me get in the way of me trying to heal. 

If it wasn’t for Steve, I would have put a bullet in my brain 21 days ago; the night Bucky disappeared. 

“Y/N?” 

I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and shut off the water, letting Steve know that he was good to come inside. 

“Natasha bought you some more clothes,” Steve mentioned while setting another bag of clothes next to the other six bags. 

The only clothes I had chosen to wear were Bucky’s shirts, hoping that the scent would be enough to make me think he was actually here. 

It didn’t. 

I nodded to Steve while sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes immediately connecting to the picture frame on the end table. 

Bucky and I in Romania, all those years ago. My fingers played with the necklace he had bought for my birthday. I never took it off. 

“I’ll let you get dressed.” 

Steve went to walk away but stopped when I reached for his hand. 

“You can stay. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom,” I stated. 

He nodded and I could feel his eyes on my back as I hesitantly grabbed some clothes from the bags that Natasha had bought. 

Once I had completely dressed, I mentioned to Steve that he could uncover his eyes. He had walked into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame to watch me. 

I stood in front of the mirror, grimacing at my broken state. The circles under my eyes had darken and my hair was starting to dry in a knotted mess. Running a brush through it, I peaked at Steve through the mirror. 

“Thank you.” 

All he did was nod in response. 

“Are you hungry?” He questioned. 

I shook my head. “I don’t want to see anyone.” 

“They’re worried about you, Y/N.” Steve said. “They haven’t seen you since we came back to the compound.” 

“I know, Steve.” I sighed, turning myself to face him. 

I leaned against the sink and crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t look any of them in the eye. I understand that they’ve also lost people they loved but knowing what I lost.” 

My words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. 

Steve knew, however, and pulled me into his embrace. “You don’t have to tell them.” 

“It’s not fair, Steve.” I looked into his eyes, the bare skin of his face smelling like fresh aftershave. “The only piece I had left of Bucky disappeared along with him.” 

He gently placed a hand over my stomach, ghosting over the place where mine and Bucky’s unborn baby used to grow. His lips parted to speak but closed when the tower began to shake, almost as if an earthquake was happening. 

Before I could argue, Steve was pulling me along with him towards the main common hall of the Avengers Compound. 

I watched as Tony lay in one of the hospital beds in the med bay of the compound, Pepper stuck to his side like glue. 

He had been floating in space for the last twenty three days but was saved by a new friend, Carol Danvers. 

Or Captain Marvel as she called herself. 

Tony said that he had fought Thanos on his home planet, ultimately losing in the end, just like we had. 

“This is stupid,” I muttered to the remaining members of our team. “We went after him with double the army and we still lost!” 

Steve sighed. “We have to try, Y/N.” 

“To what, kill him?” I scoffed. “We tried that!” 

“You didn’t have me last time.” 

My eyes snapped over towards the new blood of the room. 

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked Carol. 

“I know some people who might,” she stated. 

“Don’t bother, I know exactly where he is.” 

The other new blood, a robot named Nebula, spoke this time. From the brief introductions, I gathered that she was the daughter of Thanos. If it wasn’t for Steve stopping me, she would have been burnt to ash the second those words came from her. 

“So he’s retired to a planet?” Rhodey asked. 

“He used the stones again,” Nat said, astonished. 

I couldn’t believe that we were even discussing this and I couldn’t believe that I had ultimately agreed to it. Even if there was a slight chance that I would be able to bring Bucky back, along with everyone else that had vanished, I owed it to him to at least try. He wouldn’t want me to sit on my ass anymore; I needed to fight.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” I cursed while leaving them all behind.

[strwberrytae]

So Long, Farewell, and Goodbye For Now -

“I don’t know how you are so familiar to me—or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before—in another time, a different place, some other existence.”     - Lang Leav

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Hello, You ♡ Yes, You. You ethereal, beautiful being. I am writing to you with bittersweet yet wonderful news - depending on the perspective. I am writing this post to inform all of you that I will no longer be writing for this blog for the foreseeable future. What I mean by that is that I am not giving up writing forever, no. But my life has changed so much over the last two years, I do not see myself writing again for quite some time. But don’t worry! I will be back!

Below the Read More section, I have poured my heart and soul into the real reasons why I’ve made this decision. I warn you, it’s lengthy but it’s everything that has led up to this over the years. So, if you fancy, have a read. If not, I bid you farewell and wish you all the happiness in the world. Thank you for supporting me so far. I truly appreciate it and love you all very dearly. Now, if you wish to read it at a later time, I will have a link available on my page at all times for anyone who is curious. It’s a hell of a story if you ask me ~

Edit: Made by Me - also, a surprise photo at the end Warnings/Triggers: Talks of emotional abuse, depression, and suicide but also happiness and love -

When I first started this blog, it was 2016. I had been on Tumblr for over a decade now but BTS led me to writing passionately for 2 years. I was incredibly active and utterly consumed by this website. Not just for the writing, but I was so obsessed because of my friends and mutuals that I made along the way. Can I just say that I’ve met some incredible people on this platform - including my best friend and soulmate? Truthfully, the absolute best friend I have ever had. But more importantly, Tumblr was my greatest escape. I mean this website truly has been my saving grace through very dark times.

In that part of my life, I was in an extremely toxic relationship; by then, it was 6 years I was with him. He was emotionally abusive, had such a short-fuse temper, hated everyone I knew which led me never really seeing any of my friends after college, knew I was anorexic and did nothing to stop me, knew I had depression since we started dating and always argued it as if it wasn’t real, crushed my dreams and ambitions, mocked potential suicide attempts, expected me to just abandon all hope to ever leave home to explore someplace new or get a job that I actually love. He was...just the worst. Never hit me though, so I’m grateful for that. But sometimes I wish he would so it would have given me the voice I needed to get out of that relationship much sooner than I did. But regardless, because of him plus having a soul-sucking job that wore me down to the core, Tumblr was my escape. BTS was my escape.

I fell hard and I fell deep. I created a fantasy world within this world. All of my dreams, fantasies, desires, and hopes were poured into my writing. My imagination was running wild. My activity was through the roof because I was always on here day in and out, just pretending like the outside world didn’t exist. It consumed me...but I needed it. Looking back, it was pretty excessive. At the time, I seemed perfectly normal because everyone else was just as active and saying the same things and doing the same things. I felt a belonging, like I fit in.

But I hated the person I became. It took me getting yelled at, mocked, ridiculed, and belittled by my ex to snap me out of that illusion I built and back into reality. That was the roughest night that we had filled with lots of screaming on his end and crying on my part. He thought my obsession was sick. He thought it was disgusting. It all started because he found fake texts I had made with Jimin and Tae. Don’t recall the story it was a part of but he thought they were texts with the actual members… In my eyes, I should get credit for making them look so legit but he didn’t see it that way. He thought fangirling over men was essentially cheating. No matter how hard I tried to explain, he didn’t understand. But a part of his view was right. I learned that I was a bit too much into it and I really needed to take a step back from Tumblr for a while. So I did. I deactivated my account and disappeared for months. Also because he made me and threatened our relationship if I didn’t. Should have taken the out but ah well.

Just two months prior to this incident, I attempted suicide. Well, contemplated. Everything was planned out. Bought a hotel room for Thanksgiving night as I was working a super late shift until about 1-2am. My commute home was an hour long and I still had to come back to work at 7am. So I got a room. Brought a large amount of pills with me and I was going to call it. No notes written to friends, family, or loved ones. Nothing. I was done. Didn’t think anyone would miss me. I just figured the world would keep turning without me. I had thought about doing this several times before but this was my first time making plans for it. It was my lowest of the low. But then I met someone that night that changed my life entirely just in a 10 minute interaction of talking - nothing special. We’ll get to that later. But this person just gave me hope and to this day, I still can’t explain it. It was euphoric. I felt clarity. It was in that night that I thought I might hold out just a little bit longer.

And thus @strwberrytae was born - but it was far from the same. At first, I restarted the blog in secret. Why would I do this? Why would a 25 year old open a blog in secret? Well, two months after the awful fight, my ex proposed to me and I said yes. I know. Believe me, I know. I was scared. My depression was getting worse again. I no longer had an escape except for books. All I did was read so I had some sort of reality to be in besides my own. But returning to a brand new blog did not give the same satisfaction as returning to an old blog.

I worked so hard on my first blog and this redo, I tried to consider it as a gift. Perhaps this was a chance to start anew and rebrand myself. This optimism kept up for quite some time. Slowly, I added my favorite past works then added some new chapters. If you’ve been here with me since 2017, you would know that my appearance on Tumblr was still not the same. Then I got married in October.

An empty, loveless marriage that I regret to this day. Needless to say, my writing and activity on Tumblr was still practically non-existent as I was still too scared of getting caught. Even though he finally gave me permission to use it again because he could tell how miserable it was making me. Yes, gave me permission. Thankfully, it all ended after a year. I finally went to a therapist even though I hated them so much and all past therapists I had. She was pretty great. Within five sessions, I summoned the courage to break up with this guy. I was finally set free. Nearly 9 years together and I finally felt like I could breathe.

Unfortunately, although I was free, I had to live with the guy for about 5 months after the breakup. Which was beyond rough, believe me. Imagine someone writhing in pain and bawling their eyes out and venting non-stop about all of their faults and wrongdoings every single day. At the end of the day, as shitty as he was to me, he was my best friend too. We went through a lot of shit together and he did have some good sides to him too. So witnessing this was horrendous. Needless to say, I wasn’t getting much privacy either. Writing was not my top priority. Now it’s 2019 and things changed drastically for the better - and worst.

Remember the person I met in 2016 on Thanksgiving night? Well, that person is someone I crushed on every since that night. For 2 years. People, I’m telling you. He did absolutely nothing special that night. He didn’t flirt with me. He didn’t check me out. He didn’t do anything remotely to make a girl swoon but I was so drawn to him. The only word that could describe it was “cosmic” - beautifully cosmic. 

Well in January 2019, 2 months following my break up, he came into my store one day. And my god did he look incredible. He was dressed head to toe in black - a fitted black suit at that. He even wore this long, designer jacket to match. Hair shaved on the sides with beautiful, thick dark hair on top. So tall - 182cm. A smile that could kill; quite literally. The canines are on point. He looked like a five course meal. That day, he definitely flirted with me. By the end of the week, we had our first date. Sadly, I also lost my job in the same week and was unemployed for a year because no one would hire me. I was laid off and one of my seniors took my job. Of course, they needed to keep me around for the holidays and then give me the boot. I was devastated. I hated that job so much as it only aided in fueling my depression but losing it was definitely an amazing thing. And! I survived on my savings and definitely didn’t spend my time writing. I had life to sort out last year - like from the ground up. No worries though. I got a job in February 2020 and I love it, so it’s all good, baby. Now I’m in the health field and feel like I’m actually helping people, which I love.

Now, here we are 2 years later and I’m engaged to the man.  Someone who makes me smile everyday, believes in me, encourages me, let’s me be 100% myself, travels with me, taught me how to love myself, taught me to accept my body, gets me on a level that only my best friend could, and someone who goes above and beyond every single day to show me how much he loves me. Bonus, he welcomes my love for BTS with open arms, reads my writing, AND has even been sucked in himself to the fandom. Jungkook and Jimin, look out. You got another fanboy. I thought true love was impossible for me but I was very, very wrong.

He has shown me that I can be happy and I have finally experienced true happiness. When people ask how I’m doing, I don’t cringe and lie through my teeth. I smile and say that I am doing well because by George, I am. Everyone around me has seen me over the last two years and made the comment, “you look so much happier”. They meet him and swoon just as much as I do. Is he perfect? No, he’s not. He has flaws just like everyone else but he actually grows and learns from his mistakes to better himself. That’s what amazes me the most. Even if we argue, which is seldom, he refuses to let it go without resolution so we can always fix whatever the issue is. As we like to call it, we’re in-sync. In everything, we’re always so in-sync. I’m wildly in love, my dudes.

So, why am I not writing anymore? To put it simply, I’m happy and don’t really feel the desire to write anymore - at least not fanfiction. Even when I was super young, like elementary school, I used writing as an outlet for my dark escape. I wrote poetry primarily and by middle school, it turned to fanfiction for Supernatural, Simple Plan, and Panic! At The Disco. Along with a very long list of other bands and shows but anyways. I’ve been severely depressed since I was 15 and fanfiction put me in this hole that I couldn’t get out of. I relied on this method to help me get through all the bad shit I was dealing with. It was my coping mechanism.

Now? While depression never truly goes away as the lovely disease that it is, I am genuinely happy. Because of this, when I opened all of my past works and works in progress, I felt nothing but guilt. Guilt for not keeping up with my chapters or keeping my account active. I felt dread to have to escape in this world that I had created. I felt no joy or excitement. It was the strangest feeling that happened all in a matter of seconds. Thus leading to my final decision to take a step away from writing. Do I still love it? Absolutely. But now I think I’m going to re-route and focus my writing on what I love - reality. I’m going to get back into journaling and write essays about love and beauty as I’ve always loved to do. But for escaping into a fantasy world? I don’t know when I’ll be back.

Now I know what you’re thinking. “But you can write and be happy!” Nah fam. Writing has been my aid through dark times and now I mostly associate it with those dark times. And for once in my life, I feel this desire to enjoy reality and remain in it - with the exception of journaling here and there. Even daydreaming is difficult. It’s strange. I love my reality. This sounds like gloating now but it’s truly a remarkable feeling. When you’ve been battling depression for 15 years, it feels really freaking nice to say that I’m happy.

So that’s why I’m taking a break - in a very long, drawn out way. But my hope was that after this long story, you might understand truly why I am doing this. It would have been easier to just say that writing doesn’t bring me joy anymore but I feel that I owe more than that; especially because I really don’t know if I’ll write for this blog ever again. The last time I took a break, I disappeared without being able to explain myself and I wanted to do so now that I have the chance.

Ultimately, thank you to everyone who has stuck by me over the years. It’s truly been one hell of a rollercoaster. The friends I’ve made on here have seen me at my lowest of the lows. But hey! I’ll still be around. I just won’t be publishing or continuing any of my works anywhere in the near future. Seriously though. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. This website has helped me tremendously and I’ll never forget it. Besides, there’s lots of other exciting things happening in my life now so you’ll certainly see me pop in here and there to talk about it ♡

If you wish, you can message me for questions or anything you want to know. I’m an open book - at least about most things hehe. And don’t worry. I still very much love Taehyung and still wildly obsessing over how marvelous he is. Umf.

(here’s some recent photos of me as i rarely take selfies anymore haha. and a derp photo of me and the man i love >_< why is the cutest photo of him with the worst photo of me? still cute though hehe)

[thesoulbound]

@storiesofthenight (Dean) // Drabble.

“Just read it, okay? Don’t be a bitch about it,” Sam said quietly. Handing Dean a rather thick envelope.

“Sammy. You’re the bitch, remember? I’m the jerk!” Dean pouted, accepting the envelope with a slight worried frown on his face.

“Things change, Dean,” Sam smiled.

“Not that, bitch,” Dean countered.

“Lucky for you, you can be both a bitch and a jerk,” Sam grinned, giving Dean a pat on the top of his head before backing off,

“Just read it okay? Seriously,” he insisted. Patting his thigh for Bones and Miracles to follow him so Dean could be left alone on the porch to read.

Dean watched his little brother leave the porch and walk down to the lake by their cabin. Because yes. Who would be surprised that the two Winchester brothers wanted to spend eternity together? No one. The lovely little thing though was that now they could go see their other loved ones when they felt the need to. Now they were at peace. It was just a relief for both of the Winchester brothers to know that they found that peace together as well.

The first thing that came out of the envelope wasn’t the letter, but a photograph. He didn’t know how Sam had gotten it, but considering this was Heaven, Dean wasn’t about to sit and think too hard about it. Turning the photo over it didn’t take long for tears to form in his eyes.

Sam Winchester. His little brother as an old man with his arm around a younger man that undoubtedly was his son. The son his brother had named after him.

“Goddamnit, Sam,” Dean felt tears in his eyes already and he hadn’t even begun on the letter. He watched the photograph for a long time. Seeing his baby brother an old man both broke his heart and made it soar at the same time. His boy. His brother. He got to live a full life. He got to die an old wrinkly man with a son that loved him by his side. He wished he could have been there through the latter half of his life more than anything else, but he did find peace in seeing Sam getting the life he deserved.

Reluctantly he put the photograph next to him. Smiling at photograph. Sam’s son looked just like him. Long hair and all. 

“Goddamnit, Sammy,” he chuckled before unfolding the letter.

Dean,

Somethings are too hard to talk about. Especially when there’s so much to be said. So I figured it would be better to write down on paper about my life. After you. Rather than to talk about it. None of us has ever been that good at talking about our feelings afterall. You worse of all. Don’t fight me on this. You know it’s true. 

Don’t worry. I’m not going to go into dreadful details. If I did that this letter would be even longer, but you should know that if there’s anything you do want to know, you can just ask. This isn’t my way of telling you we can never talk about things. I just wanted you to know the most important things.

First of all, I guess the roughest part is how my life after you started... the moment you were gone. You might mock me for this, but it’s the one day in my life I really can’t talk about without breaking. You’ve always had it in your mind that I didn’t love you as much back as you loved me. Or that you didn’t deserve it or whatnot. Well, you were always wrong about that. I love you. You were always the one I could count on. 

Okay maybe not always, but every relationship, be it friendships, or brotherhood, or romance, fail at times. But most of the time I knew you had my back, and the times you didn’t - your intentions were still pure. But you need to know that just because we had our bad times. I loved you just as much as you loved me.

Therefore, the day you died for the last time, as cliche as it sounds, I died too.

I don’t want you to feel bad about it. What soulmate feels anything but grief when their other half passes on without them?

Despite how hard life was after that, you need to know I’m not angry with you. It hurt that you think it would be just easy to move on without you. That I should just let you go. But I was never angry with you. I was angry because you deserved better. You deserved a life you claimed wasn’t for you. You deserved a child of your own. And well, considering how much you slept around, maybe you did have a child out there.

Dean paused to take a very long, deep breath while drying his tears. He would kick his brother’s ass for that joke, but fairs. He supposed he had a point there.

Anyway. I took care of Miracle the rest of her life. As you know. She lived a long life and died an old girl. Of course losing her was rough, but I suppose it was a relief to know that at least she would get to reunite with you. 

I left the Bunker after grieving you for a... let’s not go into details here, but I guess it was a long time. You know I never loved the Bunker the way you did. It never felt like home. Once you were gone it certainly was even less of a home because it hadn’t been in the first place. You were my home. You were Miracle’s new home. 

Years passed and I reunited with Jody and well, the hunters from the Apocalypse world. They helped me get back on my feet. They helped me become some kind of leader I guess. This was the way I met my future wife. Her name was Casey. Dean’s mother. A great woman, but we wouldn’t last. That’s why I never mentioned her to you. I wasn’t a great husband. As you know, I don’t exactly come with a tiny baggage and in the long run it became too much for her.

I don’t want you to think ill of her. She really is a good woman. She always made sure that my son. Dean. Would have both his parents in his life. 

Dean wasn’t raised as a hunter, but he was raised with the knowledge of it. He is fully educated in it, but works as an auto mechanic. He is the one who has taken over Baby back on earth. She will be very loved there as long as there is a Winchester to appreciate her significance. She was an extension of you and she was always home. I wouldn’t dare to not let it be known how important she was. Even if the whole world can’t know her importance in human history, all hunters know of her and the new Men of Letters will continue to care for her if no one else can.

The rest of my life I mostly made the new Men of Letters a thing. Not alone of course. Our old friends and the ones that came after will continue that legacy. And no, I did not go back to law school. Didn’t feel right after all the illegal shit we’ve been doing. 

Dean sat back in his seat. Needing a moment to put himself together. The fact that he was smiling and crying at once was just too much, but at least it wasn’t all too bad. 

He took a moment too admire the view from the porch of their home. Bobby didn’t live far away. Their parents. Jody. Distance wasn’t really a thing here. If the wished to see someone, they were never far away. Even if the landscape required one hell of a makeover to see them. Perks of heaven, he supposed.

He looked down towards the lake where Sam had settled down on the floating dock with Miracle and his own dog from childhood. Bones. That dog had been a pleasant surprise. 

Dean.

Dean looked back on the long, long letter.

This letter is already getting too long. At this point I’ve said some of the most important things I guess. From here on you can ask me if there’s something you want to know. 

I do want to finish off though by reminding you to not worry that I feel any anger or regret with you. Moving on from you is the single hardest thing I ever had to do. For the rest of my life I missed you. Even though I knew I would see you again. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me to see you waiting for me on that bridge when I came here. I don’t know if soulmates are still a thing, but I figure you’re still mine based on that. 

Now, I’d say we enjoy a well fucking deserved rest. One day you will meet my son. And I will help you find real peace. Because yes. I’m your brother. And I will always know when you say you’re fine, but you’re not. But give it time. We finally have all the time in the... world? Heaven? And now I’m here to make sure you find that peace. 

I love you.

Sam.

Dean folded the letter and shook his head.

You sappy son of a bitch. 

He could quite literally feel Sam’s beaming smile even though he was still down by the lake. 

Dean got to his feet, furiously drying away the tears on his cheeks with his sleeves before making his way down to his little brother and their dogs.

You want me to leave? I’ll leave, Sam challenged in his head and Dean lifted his head to see his brother not moving an inch on the floating dock. Both dogs had jumped in the water to swim around in circles. 

Don’t you fucking dare. I’m coming, you big sap.

[spencapenca]

The Misfits

Hi! So I am currently writing a highschool AU called The Misfits. It is about the BAU as teenagers. Going through four of the roughest years of their lives. Highschool sucks for everyone, especially when you go through it alone. Rolling with the punches of life and high school, these students find solace in each other. Anyways! It continues after the break

CW! Mentions of mental abuse, emotional neglect, physical abuse, suicide, and homophobic slurs.

---

Spencer woke up early… way too early, but he was excited. This was his first day of highschool. Sure, he was at least five years younger than everyone in his grade, but he was ready. His mother on the other hand was not. She hadn’t moved out of her room in three days. He walked into the room and went over to her bed. 

“Good Morning Mama, I start high school today.” He says seeing that she was awake and reading. She looked at him and back at her book without saying a word, he realized that she was too far gone to respond right now. He walked out of the room sadly, going to the kitchen to look for food of some sort. He had become used to doing things by himself, adapting to the new changes. His dad had left six months earlier, which only worsened his mother's downward spiral. Spencer wanted his mom to get him ready for his first day: to cook him breakfast, pack his lunch, maybe even do the cheesy pictures that other moms did. But not Diana. No. Never Diana. Electronics were evil, from the government. His dad had bought him a phone and paid the bill; the only thing he did. Not that he ever answered Spencer's attempts to reach out but it was nice to have though, just in case. 

After standing on plenty of stools, Spencer decided on poptarts. He popped the strawberry pastries in the toaster and shifted his weight from foot to foot, thinking as he waited for the poptarts to become warm and toasty. His mind wandered to a time two years ago, his first day of middle school. His mom was still lucid then, she had made him breakfast and read to him. He was only seven then,he was nine now; always was smart for his age. It wasn’t easy to be the youngest in the grade. He got jostled around a lot and took a lot of elbows to the nose, but he was used to it. He was also used to the looks he got when he did the advanced work in class,the looks of doubt. He hated them. His attention popped back to the pastries when they sprung up in the toaster. He jumped before realizing what had just happened. He pulled them out and hissed at the heat, dropping them onto a paper towel. He sat and ate, allowing his mind to wander again. Remembering his mom before she went down hill. Before he was forced into being his own parent, he was already expected to be an adult.He just wanted to be cared for, like most kids did,he was only nine after all. Sure, he was in highschool, but he was still little. He still wanted the crutch of his mom and dad. He wanted to be held. When he went into his mom’s room earlier, he had hoped for her to scoop him up and give him a kiss on the forehead, and read some poetry to him. Or even just talk to him. Just be a human, and she would, in time…

After he finished eating, he had to rush to get dressed. Trying his best not to think about the fact that he had to walk the five and a half miles to school. He was too young to sign himself up for the school bus, obviously too young to drive, and on top of that he didn’t have anyone to carpool with. He rushed into his room and pulled on a pair of corduroy slacks, his old striped comfort sweater, and his tennis shoes. The only reason he wore a sweater was because it helped calm him down when he was having sensory issues, though he was always cold. Probably from the lack of vitamins in his diet. He rushed to pack his lunch, not able to find his old lunch bag, so he used a grocery sack. He remembered when his dad would pack his lunch and he lost some composure. Small tears stinging at the corners of his eye, a lump rising in his throat, the building pressure behind his nose. He pushed it all down, while making a sloppy PB and J and throwing a sleeve of Saltines into the sack. He called it a day and got his bag, shoving his lunch in the torn backpack. He walked out of the door and started the trek to school, getting to watch the sunrise. The purples made a small smile peak at his cheeks, the pinks mixing with the oranges made his chest feel warm. His hands flapped happily and he walked with a small bounce in his step. Sweat already starting to bead at his forehead.

  It took him an hour and a half, but he got to the school in enough time to get his schedule. He knew that he was assigned a guide for the first day, just to help him around the school because he was so young. Spencer walked into the main office, and didn’t even clear the top of the counter, his messy curls peeking up from behind it. 

“Um, excuse me. I need to get my schedule.” He said in a squeaky voice. 

“Okay honey, just come right around here.” The nice secretary lady said. Her name plate read Alex Blake. 

The small boy walked around to her side of the counter and smiled at her. “I’m Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D.” He said confidently, trying to show that he belonged here. 

“Oh the youngin. Okay honey, your freshman guide is Aaron Hotchner. He is a Junior. You guys surprisingly have a similar schedule, so stick with him. Let me know if you need anything.” She said, pointing him over to a tall ravenette man. 

He walked over, and in a small voice approached him. “Hi, I’m Spencer, your freshman. I need my schedule, please.” He said with a squeak, his voice rising in pitch because he was nervous. 

“Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II.” He said without looking at the kid. He handed him his schedule and held back a gasp. “How old are you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

Spencer wasn’t surprised this was one of the first questions. He had become used to this. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.” He liked how that had worked. So far, this hadn’t sucked. 

…

Jennifer had woken up hours earlier, going on a run before school. She did her best to stay in shape during her off season, still allowing herself to indulge in normal teenage things from time to time. WIthin the three hours she had been awake, the young woman had already worked out and showered, standing in front of her mirror, looking at the shell of the person she once was. Tired, dark bags fell under her eyes, her face puffy from the long nights spent crying herself to sleep. Her sister had died seven months ago. Her sister's room had been left untouched, besides the clothes that she had taken from her closet. She would sleep in her sister's hoodie, only to put it back the next day so it wouldn’t lose her smell. Her death hit her harder than she let on. She had slowly started to become numb inside, forcing a smile only around her parents and friends. Everytime she passed her sister's bedroom a small piece of her heart would break again. 

Today was supposed to be the day her older sister started Senior year. They were going to be in school together for one year. Their year. Jennifer shook her head at the thought. Refusing to let tears fall from her eyes once more. She felt so broken and weak, though everyone told her it was normal. It would probably be easier if everywhere she turned Rosalyn wasn’t staring back at her. Her door being open, a crack, her shampoo bottle, the untouched toothbrush. Everywhere Jennifer looked she saw her dead sister. She refused to shower in the bathtub after finding her sister in it. She tried… once. It ended with her shaking and crying in the tub, her mom having to turn off the water and pick her up. Since then she barely walked into that bathroom. She blinked, being brought back to reality. She puts on a burnt red dress with paisley print on it, paired with simple white shoes. She brushed through her hair, and tied it up, a ribbon lacing around the ponytail. She had opted for a softer sense of style. Mainly to portray the happiness she longed to feel. 

She soon walked downstairs, greeted by her mother. Her father was already at work, having seemed burying himself in it since the death. Her mom was the American Dream of a mother: supportive, stay at home mom that cooks breakfast and dinner. She loved her mom, though she wished she saw her break down just once. Not just act like everything was okay. 

“Good morning sunshine, how did you sleep?” Sandy asked cheerfully.

Jennifer looked at her and put on the fake smile that had an all too comfortable home on her face. “Good morning, Mom. I slept well. What’s for breakfast?” She asked in a happy voice.

“French toast, eggs, sausage, fruit, and orange juice.” She answered, setting a plate of food in front of her. Sandy was sweet, really. And Jennifer appreciated her so much for the things she did. 

Jennifer's eyes lit up when the food was sat in front of her. She took a sip of her orange juice and smiled at her mom. “Thank you Mama. It looks really good.” 

Sandy smiled softly, living to see the smile of her daughter. It broke her when Rosalyn killed herself. She never let Jennifer see how it hurt her. She had to be strong for her daughter, keep her afloat too. She would cry when Jennifer wasn’t around. Sitting on the rug of her eldest’s floor, her smell enveloping her as she sobbed into it. Blaming herself for not seeing the warning signs of her daughter's depression. The withdrawal, the sudden “I love you’s’, soon to be followed by long hugs. 

Both ladies had happy, light conversations until it was time to leave for school. The time Jennifer was dreading. Sandy drove her happily, happy to see her daughter entering such a crucial time in her life. Reminding her not to forget that she had volleyball practice after school. After multiple rounds of I love yous and goodbyes, Jennifer walked into the school. She walked to the Secretary and was assigned her Freshman Guide. Emily Prentiss. Jennifer shrugged it off until she saw the other female. The blonde had known that she liked girls, coming to terms with it over the summer, though you couldn’t tell by looking at her. Emily was gorgeous. She had a totally opposite look of the younger woman. Tall, pale, dark haired beauty. Jennifer felt heat rush to her cheeks. ‘Keep it together Jareau!’ She thought to herself.

“So you’re the freshie I have. Good to know. I’m Emily.” She said with a nod.

“I’m Jennifer,” she said with a squeak in her voice that she swallowed. 

“I’m gonna call you JJ. Fits you better. Here’s your schedule. Try to keep up.” She says handing her it and walking off.

JJ. She liked it. She made a mental note of it. From this day forward she was JJ. 

…

Penelope has already been up for hours. Grooming herself to look perfect for the first day. She wanted to make sure everyone knew who Penelope Garcia was,though she wished her last name fit her better. During roll call she always had to explain that she was, in fact, Penelope Garcia. She had buried her feelings with her parents. Six feet under. After her parents died, she moved to Virginia and moved in with her mom’s best friend, of whom she thought of, and called her aunt. This was the first year she wanted to be back in school,the previous year she opted to do homeschooling. She didn’t want to be around anyone, but she decided that this year would be different. She would push herself to be happy. She was going to force herself into her old happy persona. Maybe it would start to feel real to her again. Though the issue wasn’t that she was sad, it was that she wouldn’t allow herself to be. She felt the need to be happy all the time. Show everyone how strong she is. That was except for one person, Derek Morgan. He was the next door neighbor's son. Her aunt had set her up to hang out with him because they had one thing in common: a dead parent. They had hit it off. He would come over and just talk to her some days when she was having a bad day, sitting out in a tree that she thought was secluded, until Derek came up. She was crying and he let her cry on his shoulder. He told her that it would all feel better soon. That it would take time. And from that moment forward, they were best friends. Soon morphing into more. This summer they had made it official. 

Penelope smelled the familiar smell of chocolate chip pancakes through the air and followed it downstairs. Greeting her aunt with a bubbly smile. “Good morning Alyssa! It smells amazing!” She complemented. They both sat and ate, light conversation flowing between them. She received the text that Derek was ready, finally home and showered from his football practice. 

“Goodbye Alyssa. Derek is gonna drive me to school today. Love you!” She called out from the doorway. Her black skirt ruffling up in the breeze. 

“Have a good day Pen!” She called back, the screen door slamming in response. 

Penelope walked over to Derek’s house, knocking on the door. He greets her with a toothy smile. “Good morning baby girl” He says, wrapping one arm around her shoulder as he walked out to his car with her. They had been dating for about four months, though they had been pining for at least eight months.

“Good morning handsome. Are you ready for sophomore year?” She asked, smiling at the male. He always held her hand while they drove. He could drive early because he had a birthday that fell early in the year. 

“Of course I am, are you? I know how hard this is. Especially since you’re new.” 

“I’m ready. I’m just gonna take this year by the horns, no one knows me, no one knows what happened. No one knows my past. All they know is I’m the new girl. That's all they need to know.” She says matter of factly. 

Derek looked over at her and smiled. “Okay, but remember. I understand, and I am always here. No matter what, no matter how bad you think it is. I’m in your corner.” 

Penelope blushed softly, “Thank you… I know.” 

After ten minutes they pull up to the school. Penelope took a deep breath and swallowed. Smoothing out her pink top. She looked cute, really. Pink top, black skirt, white shoes. Though, her and Derek looked out of place together. 

She looks over at him and smiles, pecking him on the cheek. “Lets go kick ass.” 

Derek let out a nice hearty laugh and rolled his eyes, “Lets go kick ass.”

They walked into the school, hand in hand, smiles on both of their faces, like nothing could ruin their happy high, 

…

Five a.m always came too early in Derek’s opinion. Groaning as he rolled out of bed, he threw on his practice uniform and grabbed his equipment bag, heading to the field. When he arrived, he ran his five laps around the field and then drank water, heading out to practice. Three long hours later he was dripping sweat, putting away his cleats.

 One of his teammates comes over to him, “Yo Morgan, you coming out to breakfast with the team? We’re going to IHop before school. It’s a tradition.” 

“Nah man, I’m good. Thank you though.” Derek said, not wanting to give an explanation to why. 

“Come one man! It’s tradition! It's your first year on varsity, just give me a good reason why, and I will leave you alone. Just one good, legitimate reason why.” 

“I’m… I’m picking up my girl okay? It’s her first day here, and I promised her I would pick her up and drive her. Chill?” 

“Show me a picture of ‘your girl’ and I’ll leave it be. Lady Man Morgan.” He teased, pushing his shoulder.

Derek pulled out his phone and showed him his lockscreen, him and Penelope together, Her head resting on his chest. There was a significant height difference between the pair. “That's my girl. Her name is Penelope, but I call her Pen.” He boasts, until he hears a scoff and a chuckle. Who did this kid think he was?

“Oh, THAT’S your girl. Dude just skip her. She ain’t cute anyways.” 

Derek felt a small bubble of anger rise in his chest, “Watch what you say, that’s my girl. You right, she ain’t cute, she is beautiful. I can’t see what would make you think otherwise McClellan.” He replied through gritted teeth.

“Come on… It’s obvious isn’t it? The  ELEPHANT in the room… Well picture I guess.” He added snarkily. Of course he was talking about her weight, most people did. It always pissed Derek off in public, when people would see them at dinner and stare at her. Making comments about her or what she was eating. 

Derek glared at him, “Oh… so you’re that type of asshole. Okay, well be sure to never invite me anywhere with you again. I would much rather hang out with my girlfriend. She is gorgeous, funny, kind, smart, and stronger than you would ever be.” He spat, turning away and texting her. ‘Good morning, gorgeous. I hope you slept well, I just got out of practice. Will be ready to go at 9:00’ 

She responded almost immediately, like normal. ‘Good morning babe :), I slept amazing, I’ll meet you at your front door.’ 

Derek smiled and put his phone away, driving home. Greeted by his two older sisters in the kitchen, Desiree and Sarah. They basically raised him. His mom was always busy working as a nurse at the hospital, and his dad died in Chicago when he was ten. It was still hard, even after six years. Big dates always reminds him of the lack of a father. The first day was no different. His fifth grade year was his last first day with his dad. His dad would always make chocolate chip waffles and give him a pep talk. Tell him to be good, make sure he was always kind, and then kiss his forehead, and ruffle his hair. He missed it every year. 

Desiree tried to keep the tradition of chocolate chip waffles alive, trying to keep their dad alive with the memories. “Der! I made waffles for you, for after you shower. Please  shower first. You smell like sweaty boy and feet.” She called from the kitchen, not even seeing him yet. 

Derek just laughs in response and goes upstairs getting ready for the day. He looks in the mirror and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Dad, I promise this year I am going to do my best in school, I’m going to stay out of trouble, and I’m always going to be kind. I gotta girlfriend this year. You would love her pops. She’s feisty, she’s so smart and kind. Her folks are gone too. Maybe you know them… maybe not. I don’t know how it works, but I gotta go pops. I love you.” He said into the mirror. Sometimes he would talk to the picture of his dad that he hung on his mirror, looking himself in the eyes. He found it helped on the hard days.

He walked downstairs and smiled when he smelled the waffles, “You guys are the best!” He commented through a mouthful of hot waffle. Light banter flows between the siblings, followed by hugs. Derek leaves when Penelope walks over to his house, hearing her humming something before she even knocks at the door. He smiles widely at her, she looked pretty today. He always had thought she was pretty, even when they had first met. “Good morning, baby girl!” He greeted, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close so he could secretly get a smell of her perfume. She always smelled sweet, like vanilla, or cake. 

The two drove to school, Derek holding her hand the entire time. They hadn’t kissed or anything yet. Just hand holding, they had cuddled while watching movies, but they both didn’t want to hurt the other. Derek knew she wasn’t in the best state, so he was always her best friend first, boyfriend came second. 

He looks over at her and smiles when she says, “Let’s kick ass.” “Let’s kick ass.” 

…

Emily woke up bright and early, dealing with her mother. Of course, today of all days she had to be home. She woke up to her light being flipped on, “Emily! Get out of bed, it is six in the morning. You have school today!” Her mother said, her voice raised. 

“Mother. It’s six. School starts at NINE FIFTEEN.” She said, her pillow now over her eyes, “Leave me alone.” She groans

“Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, you have two minutes to get out of bed before I pour water on you. Now. And look presentable.” She commands, the door slamming shut with her exit. 

Emily groaned and got out of her bed, her dark messy curls falling over her eyes. She lets out an annoyed huff and throws her hair into a messy ponytail and walks to the bathroom. She washes her face and then goes into her room, pulling out an outfit. Fishnet tights, ripped jeans, cuffed of course, a black and white striped long sleeved shirt, and a band tee over it. She slipped on her Doc’s and an assortment of chains. Her mom always hated how she looked, how she dressed. It started out as a way to piss her mom off, show her that she isn’t some political figure. She never would be. She sat down at her vanity to do her makeup, she favored dark colors, purples and blacks mainly. She smiled as she winged her eyeliner, it came out perfectly. The raven headed girl decided to go downstairs, drink some coffee. Maybe it would make her feel better. 

When she got downstairs her mother audibly gasped, “Emily! You look like the grim reaper's wife!” 

Emily looked at her and rolled her eyes, walking over to the cabinet and getting the items to make her coffee, pouring the cream into the bottom of a tumbler filled with ice, pouring the hot coffee over it. “As long as SHE is pretty, I’ll take it,” She mouthed, knowing her mother hated her sexuality. She often told her it was a phase, just a rebellion. 

Elizabeth dropped the spoon she was using to eat her oats, “Emily, you and I both know that you’re just rebelling. Don’t talk that homosexual talk in this household. It’s dirty and imperfect. We’re Prentiss’ we don’t do those things.” 

The teen looked at her and scoffed, her heart dropping. She took it, always did, always would. Though she would never show her mother the pain she caused; she would never let her win. The second that Emily showed any trace of hurt, she would win. Emily translated that to her normal social life. Always making herself look like a hardass, scaring everyone around her. She couldn’t let herself be vulnerable, or else her mother would use it, and treat it like a weakness. Emily was always a pawn in her mother's political games. She knew it. 

Emily had let the stress get to her, taking the coffee upstairs, she dug in her bedside drawer to grab her old friend. She would smoke weed whenever she needed to relax, whenever her life seemed like too much. She was high most of the time. She normally used a dab pen, though sometimes she would use a (joint/blunt). She never used bongs, she held herself higher than that. She put the pen to her mouth and inhaled. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Hold…. Inhale. Exhale. She repeated this process a couple of times, feeling the buzz of more vapor in her lungs than air, knowing that's her sign to stop. She could longboard to school now. Forget about the rest of her problems momentarily. Though, it was less than ideal to do in her boots. 

She goes downstairs, and thankfully her mother is gone. She said her goodbyes to her nanny, Amanda, and walked out the front door with her long board in one hand, her backpack on, and her music blaring in her ears. She would listen to a mix of most everything. Sometimes it was screamo, sometimes it was soft pop. Today it was her love playlist. She liked to imagine herself riding alongside a pretty girl, holding her hand as they skated together. She pushed the two miles to school, arriving early anyways. She makes a beeline for the secretary. She had become close to her the previous school year after Blake found her crying in the bathroom because of her mother. The vile names she had spit at her. Ever since then she had become a confidant. 

“Blake! You will not believe what happened. Ugh! It was so fucking, sorry, freaking stupid!” She huffed, pulling a chair besides her desk.

“Well, good morning to you too Emily. What happened?” She asked, holding back a laugh

“Well for starters, my mother was home. That in and of itself is horrible. Then she wakes me up at six this morning, demanding I get up and dressed. So I did. But THAT wasn’t good enough for her either, now was it?” She spat angrily, her hands tapping on her leg that was bouncing up and down, anxiety still very obviously present.

“Oh… wow. She said something about your clothes didn’t she?”

“OF COURSE she did. Because GOD FORBID her precious little perfect angel. She said something about me looking like the Grim Reaper’s wife. So I said as long as SHE is pretty, I don’t care. That thoroughly pissed her off. It’s like she just doesn’t care. I’m not her perfect little girl, and she can’t use me, so she decides that I’m just not good enough. All A’s and on honor roll, not to mention the advanced classes. But THAT'S not good enough.” She ranted, the older woman listening, nodding her head and adding small affirmatives.

“I’m sorry that she is like that. I think that your outfit is quite cool, and she has no reason to get mad at you over that. It is your sexuality, and you can’t control who you like. I wish I could help you, but from what I’ve heard, she isn’t around much, and your nanny is pretty accepting.” 

Emily nodded, taking a ragged breath, “You’re right… I better shut up, there is a freshman” Emily says, seeing a blonde girl walk in. She looked like that Junior that committed suicide. Shit. That was her sister. She was gorgeous, unique looking. She was soft. Her hair framing her angular face perfectly. She was just beautiful. Emily honestly forgot to breathe for a moment, letting her face turn a rosy color before realizing what she was doing. She shook her head and got up, walking behind the desk, over to distract herself. 

It took about ten minutes, but Alex came over to Emily, presenting her with the freshman. Her mind started to race, the pretty girl standing in front of her, leaving her speechless. She soon heard that her name was Jennifer. JJ… It fit. It was soft enough to be spoken with the utmost love, but also to be called carelessly. She made it known too. 

“I’m gonna call you JJ, it fits you better. Here’s your schedule, try to keep up.” She spoke back, trying so hard not to turn into a pile of mush in front of her. She turned on her heels and walked fastly in the other direction, making sure no one could see the radiant smile painted on her face. 

…

Aaron woke up at 5:30, making sure he had enough time to get breakfast ready for his mother and his little brother. He had always made sure to step up, wanting to make the house a more peaceful place. His dad had begun taking his rough days and frustrations out on Aaron, soon becoming more than just yelling. The young boy made sure to keep his brother and mother safe, taking the brunt of the abuse. His father died when he was fourteen, and he had a wave of relief crash over him. He knew that he didn’t have to take the abuse any longer, he didn’t have to wait until his father went to sleep to do things because he was afraid of getting thrown against the wall. He didn’t have to step in between his mother and his father, letting the punches land on his body. The first time his father ever hit Sean was the day Aaron knew he wasn’t able to be a kid. He grew up extremely fast, acting and talking like an adult from the age of eight. He had never learned how to be a kid. He never knew how to play with other kids. And that would come to affect him. He was always seen as the hardass, from the clothes he would wear, to the way he talked. He was always more mature, not laughing at the jokes his classmates would tell, not really having many friends. He always stuck up for everyone though. He would see freshmen being made fun of by upperclassmen and he would make sure he put a stop to it. 

The ravenette would make his family breakfast everyday, today he was making them french toast and eggs. He saw a very sleepy looking Sean bound down the hallway, his hair a sleep ridden mess. “Good morning, breakfast is on the table. I need to go get ready for school. You have forty five minutes to eat and get dressed. I’m walking you to the bus stop this morning.” He said leaving the room, running into his mother in the hallway. “Good morning mama, breakfast is on the table. Have a good day at work.” 

The male got into the shower quickly, rushing to get ready. He pulled on a pair of khakis and a green polo shirt, looking like a dad about to go golfing. He chuckled and rolled his eyes at his reflection, smoothing out his hair. He looked at his phone and realized that he needed to get a move on. He took Sean to the bus stop, walking back for his friend, Dave Rossi to pick him up. Dave and him had been friends since elementary school, seeking solace in each other. He was the stability that Dave needed, and Dave was the rebellion he needed. The man pulled up in his classic convertible. Aaron climbed into the front seat, relaxing into the leather. 

“Hey Dave, thanks for picking me up.” He piped up with a small smile.

“Aaron! It’s no issue. How is Sean and Amanda?” 

“Oh, they’re good. Sean misses you, he keeps asking me when you’re coming over again. Mom misses you too.” 

Dave smiled at him and hummed in response, “I’ll have to come over one night for dinner” He said, pulling into the school. It was a short drive, but it was one that was well worth the gas.

Aaron walked into the school building and met with Blake, getting introduced with his freshman. Spencer Reid. When he saw the boy he was confused, he looked like a child. “Hi, I’m Aaron. What’s your name?”

“Spencer, I’m your freshman. I need my schedule.” He squeaked out. Damn he even sounded young. 

Aaron was puzzled. How old was this kid?  “Hey Spencer, um… Here is your schedule, we actually have a first period and lunch together. So just stick with me for a bit and we can head off to our first class. Which just so happens to be Algebra II. How old are you?” He asked, his voice lower in pitch.

Spencer looked up at him. “I’m nine… I know I’m little, but I am advanced. I have a high IQ and tested when I was seven, being placed into seventh grade. Now I’m nine in the ninth.”

Aaron looked at him, keeping his face in a calm manner. Nine. He was nine in high school. He knew that he needed to protect him. He was an easy target. He led the boy to their first hour, showing him the ropes. Maybe this year wouldn’t be terrible. 

…

David woke up to the smell of food cooking. This was new. Normally he was home alone. He used to have his nanny Laura around, but  when he started highschool his parents decided he was old enough to stay home without constant supervision. He missed the company though, seeing as how they had grown a nice friendship in the time. He wandered downstairs and saw his parents in the kitchen, a warm smile spreading across his face. They were home… For the first time in at least a month. 

“Ma! Pa!” He greeted from the doorway, soon walking into the kitchen. He felt a warm bubble of happiness in his chest, something he felt less and less. The young man was lonely to say the least. He never had his parents around as a kid. He was always being handed around from nanny to butler, his parents deciding to buy his love instead. It started with nice toys, soon turning to electronics, and then a car. He was spoiled, but not on his own accord. He knew that his parents felt guilty for how they were absent in his life. 

“Bambino!” His father greets, kissing the side of his head obnoxiously like the Italian father he was. Though the warmth of the moment was short lived when his phone rang, calling both him and Mrs. Rossi into work. Dave sighed, knowing that no arguing or sadness could help his case. 

Dave sat in silence, eating the eggs his dad had made for him. He put his dirty dishes in the sink rinsing them off to make his job easier for later. Even though he had people to do these things for him, he insisted on doing it himself. He wasn’t that lazy. He knew that he would be on his own, so he figured he needed to know those basic life skills. He did get to learn some things from his friend Aaron. Aaron and him had been friends since fourth grade, despite the social classes. He thought of Aaron like an older brother, though they were the same age. He needed the responsibility and boundaries the other male had, craving that himself. 

Dave walked upstairs, getting ready for the day. A hot shower, followed by jeans, a white tee-shirt and a leather jacket. His hair messily fluffed to the side. He went for a Greaser esc style. He packed his bag, soon going out to his car to pick Aaron up. He felt bad for the man because he didn’t drive yet, he was too busy to deal with minimal things. Or that is what he said. When he got to the males house, he smiled warmly. He was so alone at home, any interaction made him happy. When Aaron told him Sean missed him his heart swelled. Dave was an only child. He always loved children, being around them, playing or talking to them, coloring, really anything they wanted. He thought of the Hotchner family as his family away from home. Amanda being around more than his mother ever was. 

Dave pulled into the school at 7:15, leaving time to screw around before his first hour. His grades never suffered from his antics. He felt himself slipping into the persona of David Rossi, the class clown. He acted different at school, making himself overly obnoxious, trying to be funny because he wanted acceptance. Was that really too much to ask?

[silviartemis]

Mental Health Headcanons

This made me sweat blood

Will I do the other half of the kids? Yup. Someday.

TW: this is not graphic or unnecessarily heavy but is still about mental health struggles so if it’s a Bad day take care of yourself. (mentions of: depression, anxiety, ptsd, self destructive tendencies, manic episodes, abuse, dissociation, mentions of death, implied ableism.)

These are headcanons, some is based on canon, some is based on ideas floating around the fandom, I straight up invented other stuff and would love to know what you think and your own headcanons about this topic!

Everything under the cut <3 Also, Canon Era

Katherine had to deal with her mother's depression, which made her emotionally and often physically unavailable most of her life. Thankfully other people (Hannah we love you) stepped in to fill that void somewhat so she didn't suffer as much as she could have but naturally she didn't come out of it completely fine. She has a hard time recognizing and taking care of her own emotional needs and has a very unstable self esteem, sometimes leading to anxious episodes and burn out cause she works herself ragged trying to be "seen" by other people. Has a very strong will though and has learned over time to stop, take a breath, and analyze what she’s feeling.

 The Jacobs household is a loving, caring space and that is so important for psychological well being. It’s not very big on communication or feelings though so the Jacob children learned to express themselves mostly through logic and reason, or through their bodies.

·        When David was little he showed the first signs of anxiety by having horrible stomach aches whenever he had to leave home to go to school or temple and it’s still one of the main symptoms he gets whenever he struggles with it. Now he still has a difficult time in new social contexts but he more prominently worries about his role and responsibilities in the family, or the future. It can be intense at times but when he was younger his mom helped him learn how to handle it. Since he’s very methodical he has set specific strategies to cope with different stressors (and he’ll gladly teach them to whoever needs it).He still has crisis when the situation is particularly dire but with a little grounding from a friend or his sister he can calm down before he really starts spiraling.

·        Sarah is mostly fine. She has stress and responsibilities and frustrations like everyone but seldom gests overwhelmed. When she does, and straight up gets a fever, it's because she refused to acknowledge the emotional or physical toll something had on her, insisted on analyzing and acting following only logic and pragmatism, and ended up ignoring the signs of struggle her mind or her body were showing. She is fine with some rest and care from her parents and siblings.

·        Les is a child. A lucky one, because he's surrounded by people that love him and take care of him. He's a very smart kid, like his sister he tends to focus more on the pragmatic side of things. He's less naïve now than he was when he first met the newsies but that only gave him more conscience of the world and more compassion.  Will he struggle in his life? Of course, who doesn't. But he has one of the best support systems ever so he'll be alright.

Jack has been self-sufficient most of his life, even when he had his father around. After that, still little more than a child, he had to provide for other kids too. That affected his emotional development: he neutralizes his negative emotions by creating an escape from reality, an image to reach for to keep from succumbing to anxiety and depression. While this is functional to survival, it leaves him even more vulnerable when those emotions inevitably blow up. His multiple stays at the Refuge scarred him more than he’ll ever admit and left him struggling with some PTSD symptoms he carefully hides. His newsies family (the oldest at least) notice anyway and subtly help him calm down. Their love, shown through little gestures and kind touches (he’s very tactile), keeps him grounded. He has a very strong sense of self that helps him get through even the worst times without losing his core. Will put his own needs on hold to care for his family but is not self-destructive, he knows his limits and how far he can push himself before he’s no longer helping.

 Crutchie struggles with self worth and self efficacy, tries to mask it by being as independent as possible, even refusing help he actually needs. His family died during the polio epidemic he got sick in but he was very young and he almost doesn't remember them (removal of traumatic memories). Uses his sunny personality to hide his struggles and the fears and discouragement that come with them. He spent many years in an orphanage where he was treated like his being alive was terribly inconvenient so when he feels overwhelmed he seeks isolation because he doesn’t want to be a burden. His experience at the Refuge, albeit horrible, was thankfully very brief so it didn't scar him too much, he has nightmares sometimes but can be comforted easily by his found family.

 Race has what we'd now call adhd, he’s actually quite good ad handling it and channeling his erratic energy in making his and other kids lives easier. Except when he keeps purposefully distracting himself from taking care of his needs and pushes himself to the edge of physical collapse either to provide for the younger kids or to fulfill the self destructive tendencies that pop up in his worse days. He may appear very easygoing but has trust issues bigger than the Brooklyn Bridge, cause after only a few months in America his mother left him on the steps of the church and walked away. Incredibly loyal to the ones that eventually gain his trust. Puts on a shield of humor to protect the more vulnerable parts of himself. He has had one of the roughest stays at the refuge (along with Jack) that left him with some post traumatic stress symptoms like nightmares and flashbacks. Very tactile, the feeling of warmth from a hug will calm him down in his worst moments. One of his biggest strengths is his resilience, he will bend but won’t break.

 Albert is a victim of abuse. Many other kids are, in one way or another, but usually they come from a very bad situation that they had to flee as soon as they could. Albert's abuse built up over a very long time, keeping him trapped in a home that he felt guilty leaving and slowly numbed him to his own pain. He went from a loving family, through a terrible loss, to neglect, to physical and psychological violence. Struggles with emotion regulation and anger outbursts, has some PTSD symptoms such as flinching away from touch and light dissociation, if triggered. Both craves and is averse to touch, tends to feel over-stimulated when he’s tired or stressed so he copes by holing up with Race on the rooftop. One of the healthiest ways he has to express his emotions is his fierce protectiveness of the people he loves.

 Spot fled an abusive neglectful household when he was young, but not before he was completely sure he could fend for himself against the whole world. One of his siblings died while in their parents care and that loss and anger caused him to put up walls so high and thick no older Brooklyn newsie ever really gained his trust, but immediately became very protective of the younger kids, in time earning his position as the borough leader without even noticing. He translates all his emotions into action, often leading to manic episodes that, once they’re over, leave him exhausted both physically and emotionally. While he’s feared by many outside of Brooklyn, his newsies love and respect him and know when to step in and let him retreat for a couple of hours to rest.

[madibyrd]

TASK #001: THE LAST NORMAL DAY • broken promises

Flight 441 disappeared on October 16th, Friday, but Madi hasn’t heard about it until the following day, well into Saturday. She got home around 6:30am after finishing a 24 hours shift, remembered to send her sister a message that she wouldn’t be able to make it later to their house to lunch, apologizing for it profoundly, and then knocked out and slept a good twelve hours because she was exhausted. It was a long, hard shift, one of the roughest she’s had in months, constant calls through both the day and night with barely a moment to rest, and she needed to refuel herself.

She woke up to an empty house - Talia was off on some conference being awesome -, and a whole bunch of angry messages from her sister along with several missed calls. She wasn’t in the mood to argue with Liz, but she also knew the more she pushed off the call, the angrier her sister would get, so she let out a long breathe, headed to the kitchen to make herself a coffee and called her sister.

“You promised, Madison, you promised you’d come over for lunch and try out Jake’s soup, he was so excited for you to try it.” No hello, no greeting, and Liz even called her Madison. She really was pissed. She turned on the coffee maker to do its magic and then moved to the living room to turn on the news.

“I promised I would try, Liz, that is what I promised. If my shift went okay and I could get some sleep. I didn’t get any, I literally just woke up.”

“You could have set an alarm.”

“And be a useless sack of potatoes when I go over? You know how I am when I don’t get a proper amount of sleep. It was a really hard shift, Liz, I swear, there were several pretty brutal accidents that we were called to, one of them had a whole family... anyway, aside from those, there were two fires as well and two freaking prank calls that lead to nowhere just us in gear going to the furthest of our district when we could have used that time at least to rest. And this was just the night of the shift, don’t even get me started on the rest of the 24 hours. if I could have, I would have made it over there.”

There was a long pause from the other end of the phone.

“No sleep at all?”

“None until I got home,” Madi promised.

A sigh. “Okay, maybe I forgive you, but you’ll still have to make amends with Jake. Starting with trying out his soup. And groveling a little.”

“Give him the phone and I’ll start, but that kid loves me way too much to need that much groveling.” Which really only made it worse, but she even told Liz not to promise anything to her nephew, so if she said anything more than a really weak maybe, it was on her, as far as Madi was concerned. Not that it would stop her from apologizing to Jake, but still.

“He’s out in the garden playing with...” Liz jumped into a long explanation about what Madi’s nephew was doing, but Madi was not listening to any of it, because when she looked up at the tv, all she saw was the flashing headline - “Tragic plane crash - plane still nowhere found”. She quickly turned the volume on and tried to listen, but with Liz in her ears, it wasn’t the easiest of moments. “Liz, sorry to cut you off, but... what is this plane thing they are talking about on the news?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear before? A plane full of people was heading to LA from... not really sure where, some European city, and then it just vanished. Nobody knows what happened or what happened to them, but they didn’t arrive in LA. Everyone’s freaking out.”

“Yeah, I can imagine...”

Madi got her coffee and chatted a little bit longer with her sister, but she wasn’t really there in the head, she kept losing focus to watching the news and trying to figure out what more there is to know about this accident. She didn’t know anyone on the flight, she knew that - Talia would only be flying back home the next day and nobody else she knew or were close to were planning flying anywhere anytime soon - but still, it wouldn’t leave her mind. To the point where after a couple of hours (which included trying to distract herself and talking to her nephew, promising him that she would try his soup soon), she reached for her phone to text her coworker about the flight, that turned into a phone call that turned into the two of them googling if there were any need for volunteers to go and help with the search.

They found a phone number, they called it, and in less than an hour they were already set to fly to LA, from where the boat they would be on would leave. Their boss wasn’t happy about the development, but he also understood the sentiment, and it wasn’t the first time one of his firefighters went off to volunteer somewhere else. They would make it it work.

The harder conversation for Madi was her family - her parents already didn’t like that her profession included running into burning buildings and risking her own life. They’ve accepted it at this point with grumbles and occasional suggestions to other jobs (her mom’s pitches really were ridiculous, “I’ve heard tv reporters got hundreds of thousands of dollars yearly. Madi, my dear, you love talking, don’t you think that would be a fine job for you?”), but they didn’t like the idea of Madi putting herself in other type of danger, even though Madi insisted she wouldn’t actually be in danger. She would be on a boat, she wouldn’t do the actual dive work, she’d just help out whenever she could (technically she didn’t know what her job would be, but if she said that, her parents would imagine her dangling feets above the water on a hook without any safety, and nobody wanted that). They ended the call on “let’s talk about this more tomorrow” and Madi told them she’d call them from LA. They were not happy about it at all.

Her sister was... both more and less understanding. She was mostly annoyed she’d have to tell a 9 years old her auntie would have to disappear for a while and no, he wouldn’t be able to come over or play with her. And then turned on the worried sister mode and made Madi promise that she would be careful and not do anything stupid like jump into the water to save somebody. Madi did promise. Her best friend simply made her promise to bring her some souvenire and told her that she admired her for wanting to do this and then they spent the rest of the call talking about the guy she was seeing and how she got to a whole new level on one of the video games she was playing at the time that Madi didn’t understand but liked listening to her friend talk about it.

The last conversaion, and weirdly the one that she was both the most anxious and not at all about was Talia. She didn’t call her, she just sent a text - neither of them were really the calling type, and they very rarely actually talked, usually just texted.

[Madi]: So, I’m not going to be home for a while... [Talia]: What have you done? [Madi]: I might have volunteered on one of the rescue teams for that flight that disappeared, did you see that? Or were you too wrapped up in your historical facts? [Talia]: Madiiiiii [Madi]: Yes, that’s my name, though I usually use a lot less i’s :P [Talia]: Your desire to act like a hero can be quite annoying sometimes, you know [Talia]: I was looking forward to a chill night on the couch tomorrow, watching some dumb movie [Talia]: But I guess you’ve already decided, right? [Madi]: Yeah, I fly out to LA tomorrow. We’re just missing each other [Talia]: Somebody is gonna write a book about you and they are going to interview me and I will tell them about that time you got home at 3am and spent an entire hour singing itsy bitsy spider on the foot of my bed, crying about how much spiders are misunderstood and mistrusted even though they are the cutest things on the planet [Madi]: HEY! [Talia]: I know, I know, it’s bees [Talia]: And speaking of them, I won’t have to deal with them, right? [Madi]: Nope, I’m gonna check on them before I leave, they can take care of themselves while I’m gone, you don’t have to go anywhere near them [Talia]: You’re amazing [Madi]: Now tell me about your super historical, super nerdy presentation, did it go okay?

They chatted for a little while longer, Madi happily hearing about Talia’s presentation, being so proud of her. She might have not been there to see it, but she was sure Talia rocked it. And they could celebrate when they would be both back in Boston.

It was evening by the time she was done with everything, and she ate some leftovers from the fridge, watched a sitcom episode on Netflix, and then went to bed early. She wasn’t in the mood for anything else, she was excited to help in something so huge and curious what she would have to do, what kind of job she would be trusted upon. The next day she flew to LA with her partner and spent the remaining of her days on the boat, searching and searching for the disappeared plane without any kind of luck before the fateful accident happened and she’d end up on Meridium.

What she didn’t realize on this Saturday night is that these interactions would become the last she had with them. She talked to Talia and her sister during the trip, and she exchanged a couple of LA memes with her best friend, but there was no end, no goodbye, no finality to any of it. Promises, however, of her return that much more. And all of them would be broken the moment she washed ashore on the sandy beach of Meridium.

[dadspeed-appreciationsquad]

He'd be Proud of You

Set sometime between Gary adopting Little Cato and the Season 2 finale.

Little Cato has been plagued with nightmares since long before he met Gary, but this is the first time he felt inclined to seek comfort.

Little Cato shoots up in bed, his eyes are crazed and he has to bite on his fist to stop himself from screaming out. He sucks in a few breaths, trying to get his manic breathing under control to no avail. His chest hurts from how deeply he's breathing, if you can call it "breathing." Tears well in his eyes as he looks around the room. He can't remember exactly what made him so upset, but he knows deep down what it was.

He can just picture the snarl on his father's face. But this time, he wasn't possessed by Invictus. The snarl was directed strictly at Little Cato and what a disappointment he was. Avocato had left Little Cato to die alone. To wallow in his own shame.

He wipes his eyes and pulls his blanket off himself. He tries to steady his breathing by following the method that Gary taught him after witnessing Little Cato have a panic attack not too long ago, but it wasn't working very well. After taking a few deep breaths he stands, although a bit shaky and unstable, and he runs down the hall.

His feet hit the floor loudly due to the silence that drapes over the ship. He sniffs and quickly wipes his eye once more before he stops in front of Gary's door. Little Cato raises his hand to knock, but stops.

His thoughts plague him like a disease. Is he bothering Gary, by coming to him like this? He shakes his head. No, Gary wants you here. He wants you to feel safe. He said to come to him when he wasn't feeling well. Yeah but did he mean that or did he just say that to make you feel better?

Against his best judgement, he knocks on the door.

"Come in." Little Cato jumps at how quick the response was and nervously walks in. Gary is in his sleepwear, a tank top and some pajama pants. He's sitting in bed like he was just sleeping, but the bags under his eyes say he hasn't slept a wink.

"What's up kid? Is everything alright?" Gary rubs his eyes and gestures for Little Cato to come closer.

"I uh, yeah. I'm fine." Little Cato takes a step closer, but stops in the middle of the room. He begins to tap his foot against the ground. Gary waits for him to continue with a patient smile. "You know what? Th-this was stupid. I'm gonna go." Gary quickly moves to stand. He's kneeling on the bed, his arm slightly reached out, as if he wants to pull Little Cato to his chest and comfort him, but Gary stops himself before any of that ensues.

"Are you sure? We can talk about it if you'd like." Little Cato looks from the door to Gary. Gary offers a small smile and pats the bed.

"Do you want to sit?" Little Cato nods and walks over. Gary sighs and moves so he can comfortably lean back against the wall.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Gary doesn't move to look at Little Cato, he just stares straight ahead of him. Little Cato thinks Gary does this to give him some privacy, as Gary knows Little Cato is still new to the whole idea of "expressing his feelings". It's almost as if Gary feels this will somehow help make him feel more comfortable.

Little Cato shakes his head. "I don't know." He says after realizing Gary wasn't looking at him. Gary turns his gaze to Little Cato, the young boy pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them close. His ears were flat against his head and his shoulders were tense. A few minutes pass as they sit in a tense, yet comforting silence. Just enjoying the heat radiating off the other and the company.

"I had a nightmare." Gary admits. Little Cato looks to Gary, slightly surprised.

"You did?" Gary nods.

"I have nightmares a lot lately." Gary laughs slightly as he says this. Little Cato looks to the ground and back to Gary nervously.

"What about?" Gary ponders for a moment.

"I used to have nightmares about the Lord Commander, with you know, the whole ripping my arm off thing." Little Cato winces. "But after your dad, you know, I started dreaming of him." Little Cato's eyes widen and he turns to face Gary completely.

"What do you dream of?" Gary sighs and pushes his head harder against the wall.

"Losing him." Gary sighs and rubs his forehead with his robot hand. "I always feel like I could've done more to save him. That's actually why I'm awake now." Little Cato sighs

"That's uh, why I'm here too."

"You had a nightmare?"

"Yeah, but it was different than usual. This time, it wasn't about losing my dad, it was," Little Cato pauses and bites his lip, "it was about him leaving me." Gary turns to Little Cato.

"When did he leave you?" Little Cato rolled his eyes and sighed.

"When didn't he? He left me when he was working with the Lord Commander, he left me to be imprisoned. And then," Little Cato pauses, "then he left me for good." Little Cato says sadly. Gary swallows and stares down at Little Cato.

"Avocato made a lot of mistakes. But the thing I admired most about him was his willingness to change. He wanted to be there for you, he would've done anything to save you." Little Cato tilted his head towards Gary.

"You think so?" Gary nodded.

"I admired your dad a lot." They sit in silence again. A few moments pass before Little Cato speaks in a quiet voice.

"Did….did you…love my dad?" Little Cato gazes up at Gary, he looks so small. It never occurred to Gary how young Little Cato really is. He's so mature for his age, but how can you not be mature when going through what he had to? Well, right now he looks his age, 14, a young, small boy that shouldn't have to face the roughest side of the world as often as he does.

"Yeah. I loved your dad." Gary sighed contently. He's never said it out loud before, but it felt right saying it.

Little Cato smiled. "He's pretty great isn't he?" Gary smiled and shook his head.

"Nah, he's the best." Gary said matter-of-factly. Little Cato bit his lip and looked away.

"Could you… could you tell me… about him?" Gary scooted down the bed and fell back. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling.

"Well we met because he was trying to kill me."

"That's just how my dad makes friends." Gary laughed and Little Cato lied down next to him.

Gary waved his hands around excitedly as he told the young boy of all the adventures him and his dad went on, and all the things they did to save him. He spoke highly of their friendship and what it meant to Gary. Gary may have exaggerated his and Avocato's awesomeness in most of his stories, but who was going to correct him?

Little Cato listened intently to each of his stories. Absorbing every piece of information he could learn about his dad.

"I wish I would've gotten to know him more. The him without the Lord Commander." Little Cato shook his head and sat up. "Its like, I don't even know who he is. I was gone for 3 years, people change in that amount of time, he doesn't even seem like the same person I knew before…before everything." Little Cato's ears flatten against his head and he scrunches up his face, refusing to let tears fall. Gary sits up as well and pats Little Cato on the back.

"His personality may have changed bro, but his love for you never did. I didn't know him for long and he never talked about himself. But one thing I knew for sure was that he'd do whatever it took to get you back. He loved you kid."

"I just wish it didn't cost him, well him." Gary nodded. "And I wish I got to tell him that I loved him too."

"He knows little buddy. Just know that he'd be so proud of you Little Cato. Of the man you're growing to be." Gary swallowed and took a deep breath. He carefully thinks of how to address this situation without overstepping and making Little Cato feel worse. "I'm sorry he can't be here to see it, I know what it feels like to be alone like this." Gary leaned down slightly so he was level with Little Cato, he places his hand on Little Cato's shoulder and offered a smile as he turns Little Cato to face him. "I just hope you know that you aren't alone. Not here, not while I'm alive. I've got your back kid, for life." Little Cato smiled and wiped his eyes.

"Thanks Gary." Little Cato looked down before back up at him. He launched at Gary and wrapped his arms around his neck. Gary stumbled back slightly but was able to catch himself before falling against the bed. Gary paused as he took in what was happening, as he took in the warmth that surrounded Little Cato, and is that purring he's hearing?

"Anytime bud." Gary wrapped his arms around Little Cato tightly.

Little Cato places his hands against Gary's neck, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat luring him to sleep in a few moments. Gary smiles when he sees that Little Cato is finally getting some sleep. Gary brushes some of the blue hair out of his face and leans down to kiss his forehead.

"Goodnight Spider-Cat." Little Cato snuggles closer, oh that's definitely purring.

"Goodnight Dad."

[blxssom-tanjiro]

Hello! i have a request for you, if thats okay!!! :) so heres the scenario: Tanjirou meets a frightened but determined reader during the final selection, and they kinda stick together during it all. all the while Tanjirou is just kinda like “wow shes really cute. could probably kill me but shes really cute.” while spending time together they share stories, Tanjirou talks about Nezuko and his family, reader comforts him, just hella FLUFFY STUFF. maybe they trav together after??? who knows

Hello! Thank you for requesting! I love this one so much because it’s just all FLUFFFF!!!

I had the roughest night two days because my boyfriend broke up with me since he was moving away but we ended up getting back together the next day because he realized he couldn’t live without me ohohooo.

Snatched yourself a man who loves Demon Slayer.

Anyways, here we goooooo! I wrote it differently than what you described it, but I also tried to keep in all of the details you wanted!

~~~~~~

It was finally the day of the Final Selection. Tanjiro soft heartedly said goodbye to sleeping Nezuko and Urokodaki. It was a long journey to the Final Selection, but Tanjiro continued on without a doubt in his mind.

He was going to become a demon slayer and save his little sister Nezuko.

While finally reaching and starting the Final Selection, Tanjiro found himself cornered by a large demon. His eyes were as cold as ice and his snickers deep as hell itself, Tanjiro feeling his blood run cold. Before the demon could lay a hand on him, a soft but fast slice through it’s neck was delivered and it slowly dissipated. There, in front of the frightened male, was a taller female. Her hair was up, but she was facing the direction of the demon.

Her name was (L/n) (Y/n).

Her voice was as soft as water, but her moves were as jagged as ice. Her eyes held certain emotions, floating through them like stars in space.

Soon, the two became partners throughout this Final Selection.

Even after.

Tanjiro couldn’t help but follow the girl around, almost like a lost puppy. Wherever she was, he was not too far behind. It was almost like something was drawing him into the mysterious girl he called his friend, like a moth to a flame.

He couldn’t help himself when he realized he developed a certain type of feeling around her. Whether it was happiness or love, he felt right at home with her.

On the last night of the final selection , the two were sitting alone behind a tree while talking about their past, Tanjiro began to know more about (y/n), and she began to know more about him.

Her eyes dulled softly when she opened up about her own past, softly explaining to Tanjiro that her older sister was the one who convinced her to become a Demon Slayer. Her sister was tragically taken from her right before the Final Selection, in which (y/n) promised herself that she would continue on with her training and become a pillar to protect people like her sister, and people like herself.

People who have lost loved ones.

Tanjiro, however, felt hesitant to share his own. He didn’t want to feel the pity wavering off (y/n) because of his own story, but (y/n)’s soft and motherly-like eyes ushered him.

So he did.

He watched as (y/n) comforted him throughout his explanation, already knowing how hard it is to lose someone you love, let alone a whole family that you loved so much. He could easily tell that the girl felt sympathy for him, holding his hand softly as she helped him through the process of explanation.

Still, he felt at ease.

His family was looking up above him, watching him plunge into life like a diver into a pool, while her sister was looking down at her doing the same thing.

The two stuck together throughout, and afterwards. It was almost like they were two puzzle pieces that found each other in this big wide world, and protected each other no matter what the cost.