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I miss my grandmas house in the desert where it was always so hot and dry and we’d spend all day alternating between swimming in her pool and going into the back room to watch Cartoon Network and Disney Channel on the CRTV and eat ham sandwichs and Doritos and Dr. Pepper it’ll never be 2008 again 😭
#my grandma ain’t even alive anymore#and she moved out of that house#the house that was my moms childhood home#like 8 years ago anyway#:(#for some reason being in the east coast doesn’t even make me miss home home#it’s making me miss like random ass stuff#mostly my grandmas and my cousins house#I house sit for my cousins this time last year#and they live so close to the beach and it was just like#so fucking nice man#it was like heaven#I guess since it’s so hot out I miss#places I associate with nice weather#like my grandmas was hot but we had the pool#I miss the other kind of heat#I hate this kind of heat it sucks
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Won’t You Stay (Part 1)
Summary: The reader is almost ready to start filming her movie, The Dark Woods, with her dad but is nervous but how it will all turn out. She’s feeling better by the first day of filming but when her other lead actor quits, she needs to find a new one and fast...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader
Word Count: 2,900ish
Warnings: language, car accidents
A/N: Please enjoy the first of many parts!
______
“Alright, so we’re going to have Ethan run down this hallway here, turn, tight in over his shoulder and push past to go down the way he came to catch sight of the baddie chasing him,” said Mark, your director of photography. You pursed your lips and hummed, walking through the warehouse location, your dad watching off to the side.
“Reverse it,” you said. “I want the supposed baddie’s back, in the first hallway, chasing my dad. Tight in over his shoulder, push past that guy and then get onto my dad. It’s supposed to be scary. I want the chase and tension.”
“You got it boss,” said Mark.
“You sure that’s what you want to do, kiddo?” asked your dad, Ethan. You glanced over your shoulder and raised an eyebrow.
“I want a ‘heart stops beating in the chest’ moment,” you said. “Fear. Prey being hunted.”
“But my character turns out to be the predator in this case,” he said, leaning against the wall.
“Exactly. The audience won’t know until it’s too late. Heart stopping, edge of the seat opening scene. I want them to feel for Hale and then have him flip the tables on them and then flip ‘em right back. I want the hallway shot one long continuous shot too. We might need to work on it some and get in a few rehearsals but it’s what I want,” you said.
“Sounds good. Opening scenes can really make a movie. I can’t wait to start filming next week,” said Mark with a grin. “This is going to get nominated for an Oscar or some shit.”
“I’ll settle for not bombing at the box office,” you said, pulling out your phone to check the time. “It’s starting to get late. I’m good for the day if you guys are.”
“Good with me. I’ll see you bright and early on Monday, Y/N,” said Mark. You gave him a wave as he headed out, your dad poking his head down the hallway again as you walked around one last time.
“I sound like a total bitch, don’t I, demanding what I want to do,” you said. He whipped his head around and frowned.
“No sweetie, not at all. Director ain’t an easy gig. You’re gonna have to know what you want all the time and some days, you’ll have to be a hardass about it. But you’re doing very good with all of your prep work. No one knows this story like you do,” he said.
“Why did I agree to do this,” you groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. “I wrote the damn book. Why did I say I’d direct it too? Direct my own father?”
“Because you love this story. I love this story. Mom and Anthony and Ella love it. You wanted it to get the treatment it deserves. You’re gonna do great,” he said.
“Remind me of this when I’m two weeks into filming and I end up flipping out,” you said. He gave you a big squeezing hug, spinning you around in circles. “Dad.”
“Mhm, sweetie,” he said. “You’re coming over for dinner to relax. No excuses.”
“I’ll take the free food,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder as you walked out towards where the car was parked. “How’d you not be terrified all the time?”
“Terrified of what?” he asked.
“You had me when you were 18. I was nine by the time you were my age. I can’t even keep a houseplant alive and now I’m making a multi million dollar movie and I feel like I’m gonna explode already. I can’t imagine being responsible for a kid,” you said.
“I was terrified to be honest. Grandma and grandpa helped us a lot. The whole family did. Becoming a rising Hollywood star was nothing compared to single dad though. You used to be the center of attention when my buddies would come over. You remember that?” he asked.
“I was your responsibility though,” you said.
“And I don’t regret having you for a second,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “How cool is it that we get to work together? This is going to be great, sweetie. I’ll try to help the hard days not be so hard too, okay?”
“Okay. I grew up on film sets. Hopefully this doesn’t go as bad as I think it will.”
“What do you mean he’s out? He can’t be out. He’s the other fucking lead!” you shouted into your phone late Monday morning. Your dad slurped up his noodles from his lunch at the craft services tent, most everyone going quiet and looking at you. You ditched your plate and went outside to the lot, running your hand over your face. “Where is Gil Nicholas going? He signed-”
“Dropped out. His contract allowed him to do that up until filming started which technically wasn’t until tomorrow so he’s able to do it,” said the casting director on the other end.
“What…” you said, taking a deep breath.
“Relax, Y/L/N. I’ve known your dad since he was a bright eyed 18 year old kid. I ain’t calling with this kind of news without having a backup plan. There’s this guy out there, Jensen Ackles. He’s an up and comer. He was on a sci-fi horror network show that got the axe after a few seasons. The kid’s good though. Better than Gil for sure. He doesn’t have the name recognition that Nicholas did and this would be his biggest production ever but the kid is used to the horror genre,” he said.
“It’s not a horror movie,” you grumbled. “I’ve never heard of this guy. How old is he?”
“Twenty eight. Been in the business for about ten years. He’s got a good strong look to him. Athletic but soft,” he said. “He’s good looking. The face alone would get some people out to see the film. Get his shirt off and stick that in the trailer, you’ll get people to come see this movie no problem.”
“I wrote the damn book in my childhood bedroom. I published it and sold the movie deal on my own. If I need to get someone naked to sell this story, it doesn’t deserve to be on the big screen,” you said.
“Okay...relax before you blow a gasket. I got some other guys that could play Lyle. We could put together an emergency casting session this evening, see about getting a guy in for the morning?” he asked.
“Alright. Do the session. My dad’s off the rest of the day so see if he’s available for chemistry reads,” you said. “Please.”
“Can do, Y/N. The studio isn’t going to let one of the most popular books of the past few years crash and burn. It’s a goldmine waiting to happen for them. We’ll find the right guy to play Lyle. I promise.”
“Hey,” you said, jogging into the casting studio around 8 that night, catching your dad reading over a page of the script. “How was Ella’s volleyball game?”
“They won. She spiked the ball and hit some poor girl in the face though. She was crying the last time I saw her,” said your dad.
“I’ll call her after this,” you said, closing your eyes. “How’d the chemistry reads go?”
“Just got that Ackles kid left to do. I’ll be honest. It ain’t been pretty in there. Two hot shots that ain’t worth shit, one that sounds horrible and another that can’t even pronounce full words,” he said.
“Lovely,” you said. “Where’s the Ackles guy then? I thought you guys were expecting to be wrapped up by now.”
“Late. Not the best sign,” he said. You squeezed your eyes shut and tilted your head back. “Go take a walk around the building, kiddo. I’ll talk to casting, see if there’s other possibilities. Worst case, we rework schedules, film anything without a lead while they find one.”
“This is a disaster and it’s only the first day,” you said.
“Y/N. Go on, take a breather,” said your dad. You sighed but went back outside, throwing your head back as you started to walk the block for a few minutes.
A whistle from a dim alley made you roll your eyes as you walked past.
“Hey, princess. I was talking to you,” said the man.
“Fuck off. Not in the mood,” you said. Next thing you knew a hand was on your shoulder and you were being shoved back against a brick building.
“Well that’s not very nice,” said the guy.
“Hey!” barked another voice. You both turned your heads to spot a younger guy already looking a little beat up walking down the sidewalk. “Pick on somebody your own size.”
“You want another ass kicking tonight? Looks like you already lost,” said the guy. He turned his attention to the other man but you were still stuck in a dead end alley with him. You tried to brush past him but the guy caught your arm, the younger one staring him down. “Just having a fight with my girlfriend, buddy.”
“I’m not your girlfriend, fuckface,” you said, stomping on his foot and turning around, kicking him in the nuts. He dropped your arm and you ran past to the young guy, standing behind him for a moment.
“Get out of here. Now,” he said. You took off back down the block to the casting studio, ducking into the lobby. Five minutes later you were pacing the halls, trying to get through on the phone to the police when the young guy appeared sporting a freshly bruised cheek. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks. You? I’m trying to get through to the police but they put me on hold,” you said. He gave you a smile and shook his head.
“I’m fine. Rough night is all,” he said as he wiped some dirt off his cheek. He was handsome and looked strong but you could tell he wasn’t the fighting type.
“Busy saving other damsels?” you joked.
“The car in front of me tonight got in an accident. Car rolled and I helped get the driver out. Guy went into diabetic coma for a hot second so that was fun hanging with him until the ambulance got there and then that just happened. Obviously not my night. I’m supposed to be having the biggest audition of my life two hours ago here. Probably a sign it’s not meant to be,” he said.
“Well there’s at least two people out there grateful for you popping up tonight. Maybe your audition will go well,” you said, smiling to yourself.
“I doubt it,” he said. “I should just go home. They probably won’t even let me anymore.”
“I know some people that work here,” you said, his ears perking up. “Give me your name. I’ll make sure you get your audition.”
“Really? Uh, thanks. I’m Jensen Ackles. I’m supposed to be auditioning for Lyle Sullivan on The Dark Woods movie,” he said.
You stared at him, Jensen giving you a smile.
“You okay? If you don’t know anyone on that that’s cool, really,” he said. You nodded and said you’d take care of it. You went down another hall and into a large audition room where your dad was talking with the casting director while on the phone with one of his cop friends.
“Hey. Ackles is here,” you said.
“Kid’s two hours late,” said the casting director.
“We’re desperate, not that desperate,” said your dad. “Trust me. If he can’t even show up for an audition on time-”
“He’s the guy that just got that other one to leave me alone on the street,” you said. Your dad immediately put down his phone and looked at you. “He says he helped a guy who was in a car accident earlier and that’s why he’s late. He looks it. I want to give him a chance.”
“Alright. He can have a chance,” said your dad.
“Alright. Ethan, scene 22 again. Y/N, want to watch in here or on the monitor?” asked the director.
“Monitor. I’ll pop back in with my decision,” you said. You went in the back room and sat down, a TV on a small table in front of you. You turned it on and reached across the table, finding one of the pads of paper and pens that were normally there. You jotted down a few things to yourself.
He had the look of Lyle which was a huge plus for you. Short cute brown hair in spiky strands. The signature green eyes. The slight scruff on his cheeks.
He popped in front of the camera, still and quiet as he watched a few people move about. He was tall and had strong arms but there was something innocent and kind about him you couldn’t place. You smiled. Lyle had to be both the soft sweet boy and the tear your throat out with his teeth type. This guy seemed like he could pull that off potentially.
You sat back and watched your dad appear on the screen, shaking hands with Jensen briefly before they started.
Twenty minutes later you leaned back in your seat and stood up. Jensen was good. Nervous around your dad and shy but that was okay. During the read, all of that fell away. He was Lyle Sullivan, far better than Gil had ever played him. Jensen seemed to know just how to play Lyle’s relationship with Hale and it made you wonder if he’d ever read the book.
You popped into the casting room, Jensen no longer in there, your dad and a few other people discussing what they’d seen.
“We know what we think. What about our director?” asked your dad as he crossed his arms.
“I want him. I want him real bad,” you said. “He was good.”
“Alright. I think we’re all at a consensus then,” said the casting director with a smile. “We need him in tomorrow morning to start filming though. We need to work a temporary contract out tonight and-”
“Give him Gil’s contract, minus the ability to pull out,” you said. “It’s simple.”
“The studio ain’t paying a small screen, barely has a fan base, guy a couple million dollars,” he said.
“The Dark Woods is a wildly popular book with a built in fan base. Pay the man his money. What’s the big deal,” you said.
“I’m telling you right now, they won’t pay the kid three million,” he said. “He isn’t worth it in their eyes. Your dad is an established, multi-franchise, lead for both TV and movies. There is a reason your father is being paid very well. You earn that in this business, kid.”
“I negotiated my salary and a movie deal, on my own. Don’t call me a kid. I am twenty seven years old and do not tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. Use Gil’s contract and get him signed before he leaves the building,” you said. The casting director stared at you before he got up and left the room. Your dad gave you a look that you rolled your eyes at. “What?”
“You’re gonna be just fine as a director, kiddo.”
“Hey,” you said around midnight when you finally had all of the paperwork settled. Jensen was walking out into the main hall with his agent by his side. “How’d it go?”
“I got it!” he said, all smiles, his agent saying a quick goodnight to him. “Thank you so much for putting in a good word. I can’t believe they even let me audition let alone gave me the role.”
“Well, I just got you the audition. You got the job on your own,” you said.
“Still. I owe you a drink,” he said. He had big bright green eyes, still a bit shy but you could tell his excitement was giving him some confidence.
“I have work very, very early in the morning,” you said with a laugh, his face falling for a split second. “But I will definitely take a raincheck for Saturday night?”
“Alright. Sounds good to me,” he said as he smiled. You swapped phones for a moment, Jensen practically bouncing with excitement.
“You excited about this job, huh?” you asked as you put your phone away.
“You ever hear of The Dark Woods book? I love it. It’s so good. I was super excited to hear they were making it a movie and now I get to play Lyle freaking Sullivan? If you haven’t read it, you got to,” he said. “It’s awesome.”
“I’ll have to take a look sometime,” you said. “I’ll text you sometime for Saturday then?”
“Yeah. This is turning out to be the best day ever,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
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A/N: Read Part 2 here!
#supernatural#spn#jensen x reader#jensen ackles#supernatural series#supernatural reader insert#jensen ackles x reader#spn reader insert#jensen reader insert#jensen x#jensen ackles x you
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Just found this blog and I'm in LOVE, please give me headcanons on Spike and Faye and their romantic dynamic in the show or what u like abt them most, literally anything I need the Food please bestow upon me your wisdom!! And also I'm so glad to see I wasn't the only one attracted to Vincent sdlfkjsdfk you have such good taste. Have a marvelous day and thank u for this entire blog!! :]
OK UM QUEEN YOU MADE ME CRY. THANK YOU OH GOD.
HEAD CANON TIME SLUTS!!!
Fortunately/Unfortunately for you at some point around 14 years old I emptied my mind of everything but Bebop. Bebop, and breathing.
Photo take circa 2010, inside of Madi’s brain. Colorized.
[Will have spoilers] So some basic headcanons are gonna be really redundant if you’ve read any tags or answers on my shit hole blog but here we gooo:
1. Spike and Faye love the fuck out of each other. No I will not be taking questions.
2. Spike lost a lot of enthusiasm for Julia around the end of episode 13, Jupiter Jazz. At the end of the show, he didn’t go off to save Julia or run away with her. In fact, you’ll notice he’s not particularly happy to see her (ok granted, he’s shite at expressing emotions) and he doesn’t insist on getting the hell out of Dodge together before shit hits the fan. Rather, he’s there to end Vicious and the Red Dragons because Spike knows as long as Vicious is around he will hunt Spike, and he’s not beyond using Jet, Faye, and Ed to that end. Which leads to my next one ...
3. OKAY HERE’S A CONTROVERSIAL ONE - He “died” for FAYE and Jet and Ed and it’s definitely self gratifying SpikexFaye Bullshit ~ in Real Folk Blues when Spike (for the first time probably) gives Jet a look inside his fEeLiNgS we get the story about the Tiger Striped cat and this whole gem:
WHERE, PRAY, IS THE HEAD CANON YOU ASK???? HE IS TALKING ABOUT FAYE MOTHERFUCKERS. It’s about manic pixie dream girl amnesic asian sexy grandma gun play herself. Faye Fucking Valentine. Lady Luck, Poker Alice, Romani. He talks about how he finally met someone who really made him feel alive. (Also he saw that video of her as a child and I think it really touched him. He only sees that bright eyed hopeful child when he sees her now).
But I mean - “someone who was truly alive”???? Literally our exposure to Julia she’s pretty bland. (Dangerously Ordinary). Spike liked her because she was kind to him in a cruel world. But I think when he met Faye he REALLY met someone with vim and vigor and “a woman with an attitude”. THAT is why he’s going there to die. To protect her. (and to protect the little girl on the Betamax)
OH? And immediately after he finished his speech, he says, ���She’s back.” and we as the audience and even Jet (it seems) think he ‘wait what Julia is back? okay yeah we know that.’ but then IMMEDIATELY Faye walks in. The SHE is fucking FAYE.
Oh but I ain’t done w this one, baby.
In Ep 15 - My Funny Valentine, Spike meets Faye outsidde at the jail at the end after she collects the bounty of Matsumoto. The following ensues:
FAYE: “Look who’s here. You must really want me back.”
SPIKE: “Yeah. Nice Try.”
FAYE: “You were jealous.”
SPIKE: "In your dreams.”
FAYE: “I'm still in the dark. I may never know anything about my past.”
SPIKE: “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”
FAYE: "Easy for you to say. At least you have a past.”
SPIKE: "And you have a future. That’s what counts.”
OK there is a lot to unpack here~
- They’re shamelessly flirting. Like the sexual tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. See Heacanon # 1 for further information.
- Spike SUDDENLY doesn’t care about the “Past” anymore? (Note this is two episodes post Jupiter Jazz). Hmm ... like ... idk man seems like you don’t care so much about Julia anymore ...
- He knows Faye has a future; i.e. he can’t take that from her (or Jet or Ed) and therefore he has to end Vicious.
WHEW OK NEXT ONE
4. Spike’s PaAaAsT
My head canon on this is he grew up an orphan in and out of the foster care system on Mars (we know he was born there) in the streets of the city of Tharsis. From what we know, Spike is about 27 in the show. In Episode 1 - Asteroid Blues, he mentions he’s has the Swordfish II for ten years, meaning he got it when he was 17. Where did he get it though? Especially at 17? Doohan, of course. So at some point as a teenager he went to Earth and was taken in by Doohan as an apprentice, not unlike Miles. My seriously specific headcanon here is that Doohan probably met him in Tharsis hot wiring a car or some shit and also noticed he was a hoodlum bound for trouble. He took him in to give Spike the chance to make something of his life. I think he spent years 14-19 or so of his life there.
After leaving life on Earth he meets Vicious/Lin/Shin/Mao/Annie and, given his moral apathy and hardened street fighting skills, joins the Red Dragons as a hit man and quickly ascends through the ranks. *This conflicts with a less thought out headcanon I have that Annie played a motherly role in his life as a late adolescent*.
I’m not the first to propose this one either, but I’m thinking his affair with Julia began around the time Vicious was in the war on Titan.
5. Vicious is a Toxic Bisexual.
There’s a big chance I’m projecting my actual personality onto this man. I also have zero textual evidence for this one. My head canon here is that Vicious is very gay for Spike but is also fed a diet of Street Tough Toxic Masculinity and can’t express it, and also knows Spike doesn’t feel the same. Yep, he’s sexually frustrated over Spike. Oh god I am definitely projecting.
I think Spike’s betrayal in him sleeping with Julia is such a double edged sword - Spike took his woman AND Spike clearly wants the puss puss not the D.
Sub canon A: Vicious was also attracted to Gren and he felt really weird about it and that’s why he oscillated between being an outrageous asshole to him and also sorta nice
Sub canon B: Entirely unrelated but on the subject of bisexuality ~ Faye definitely was a little turned on by Julia. Listen to how Faye describes her to Jet I mean COME ON.
ANYWAY
I also have many many more that I’ll post or have posted but my fingers are tired of typing and this is already really long. PLEASE let me know what you think of any of these and please message me any you have!!!!!! I seriously eat, sleep, and breath this show. I am in the process of writing a manifesto on it (I wish I was kidding).
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A Life Unlived: Life is Full of Surprises pt. 1
Masterlist / Previous
Word Count: 1613
A/N: Season 6!
Warnings: themes of cheating, canon gore, angst- oh so much angst, implied character death (canon).
September 2010
“Bobby?” Myin called as she opened the door to his home very slowly. He had been working hard to try and break his contract with the demon Crowley to no avail. “Bobby are you here? I brought you something to eat?” She could smell something burning and a scream of agony from the basement.
“Oh hey, Myin,” Bobby said coming back upstairs and closing the door behind him. “Hi there little Jenny,” He cooed at the little girl. “What’s going on?”
“I brought you some food, I didn’t think you’d have bothered to eat correctly,” Myin teased him, as she offered a covered bowl.
“You spoil me,” Bobby grinned slightly. “Why are you really here?” He said as they walked into the kitchen and Bobby got a spoon.
“Alright, not that we need a reason to visit Uncle Bobby,” Myin smiled bouncing Jenny on her hip. “But, I thought I saw something snooping around my house.”
“You still got that sigil up from Kali?” Bobby asked. Myin nodded. “I’ll come check it out for you guys tomorrow okay? Dani and Penny with their grandma?”
A knock on the door got Bobby and Myin’s attention before she had a chance to respond.
“Are you expecting someone?” Myin whispered and bobby shook his head. They walked over to the door and Bobby answered it. Jody and a federal agent were standing there. Jody looked pissed, then saw Myin and exhaled some maintaining her poker face.
“Bobby, this is Special Agent Adams of the FBI. He has some questions for you,” Jody huffed in an exhausted fashion.
“Listen, Singer. We aren’t finished with my problem. I expect and update from you about the issue,” Myin took on a grumpy customer look and started to storm out of the house past the FBI agent. “Oh!” She turned on her heel for extra emphasis. “And don’t screw it up this time.”
Myin left the house as quickly as she could hoping that her performance had helped Bobby in any way and that the FBI agent wouldn’t come to her hoping to ask questions. She just had to hope that Bobby would figure out what was stalking her house.
October 2010
Dean had heard enough with his many recent conversations. Between the woman telling him about her boob job, then Bobby’s overshare. He was still reeling with the revelation from Lisa. Sam’s answers were the only befuddling part, but they did set him at ease slightly. Now he just needed to know how to break this curse. He hit speed dial 9 something he hadn’t done in a long time.
“Dean?” Myin’s voice was quiet and unsure as she answered his call. “Why are you calling me? I thought you had moved on?”
“I uh- look I was an asshole,” He sighed deeply.
“You’re damn right you are. You call me out of the blue without ever coming back and checking on us. I didn’t know how I was going to handle everything. Do you know how hard things were for me after you left?!” Myin had unwittingly slipped into the role of the truth sayer that his curse was forcing him to live through. Dean fought back his hurt.
“Myin, stop. I’ve been cursed,” Dean said trying to give her some dignity.
“What? Are you going to die?! I just got a hold of you and your going to die?! I can’t go through that. Not again. Not after Sam. The girls need me, I just don’t think I would make it. Please don’t say you are going to die. Please just lie to me instead,” She huffed at the end. “What the hell? I didn’t want to say all of that?”
“Yeah, I’m cursed to hear the truth from people that are talking to me. Trust me, it’s kinda annoying,” Dean chuckled at the hurt that he felt for Myin. “People keep springing important information on me that I wish I had known earlier.” The phone clicked. “Myin?” He looked at the screen of his phone seeing that the call had ended.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked meeting up with him by the Impala.
“Just trying to figure out how to break this dumb curse,” Dean responded putting his phone away for the time being.
The brothers had been caught by the goddess Veritas, and forced to play a game of what she called ‘truth or truth’.
“You're covered in blood until you're covered in your own blood. Half the time, you're about to die. Like right now. I told myself I wanted out… that I wanted a family.” Dean said sighing.
“But you were lying,” The Goddess said to him with a smirk.
“No. But what I'm good at… is slicing throats. I ain't a father. I'm a killer. And there's no changing that. I know that now,” Dean said regretfully. As if on cue Dean’s phone started to ring.
“Who’s Myin?” Veritas asked coyly. “Oh well, I guess you won’t get to find out what she has to say. Cause you will be dead.”
“Ever since I came back, I am a-a better hunter than I've ever been! Nothing scares me anymore! 'Cause I can't feel it. I don't know what's wrong with me. I think… I need help,” Sam said after they had killed the goddess. But Dean had had enough of his lies. He turned and punched his brother, but all the hurt and rage that he had kept bottled up for the last year fueled him and Dean just kept hitting Sam.
He finally got off of his brother, then remembered that Myin had called. He hauled Sam into the Impala then started the drive to the Campbell’s compound. He pulled out his phone to listen to the message the woman left him, knowing that she would have still felt compelled to tell the truth.
“Dean, there is a lot I need to tell you, but I can feel the magic and I don’t want to tell you everything because you are cursed. I guess the two most important things I need to tell you is that I have a baby and that I’m not sure we can ever go back to being together. It felt wrong to betray Sam even after Ruby, but I won’t deny that I think I was in love with you. Oh who am I kidding. I’m still in love with you… Shit! This dumb curse is strong. Anyway, we should talk about… everything. But after this curse it gone,” That was the end of the message. Dean felt his heart shattering. He was confused and hurt, but he also knew he was right to stay out of her lift when Sam had died. He didn’t want to drag her down with him.
December 2010
“Myin, what are you doing here?” Bobby asked when he answered the door. He looked over his shoulder into his house in a paranoid fashion then stepped out to talk with her on the front porch.
“You asked me to bring you some things?” Myin asked looking at him suspiciously. Bobby sighed knowing that he had made himself look guilty.
“Balls. Look, I’m sorry. I know I asked for stuff yesterday, I forgot. It’s been busy,” Bobby said fiddling with his hat.
“Hard hunt?” Myin asked looking around before her eyes settled on a car that answered all of her questions. “Dean is here?”
“Yeah… I should have warned you.” Bobby said twirling the short strands of Jenny’s hair. “She really looks like him. You guys should go before he comes to find me.”
“Who comes to find… Myin?” Dean asked as he walked around the side of the house from working on his car. Dean saw Jenny, and looked down at his feet. “Sorry, I guess that was me. I’ll give you some space.”
“Wait…” Myin said before biting her tongue. Dean turned to look at her. “You never called me back.”
“Yeah I’ve been-”
“Busy,” Myin said at the same time as Dean, her shoulders slumping a little. “I have a lot to tell you, Dean. We should talk some time.”
“I’m gonna go inside,” Bobby said giving Dean a very harsh look, that the Winchester didn’t think was warranted.
“I have stuff to say as well,” Dean said. “I think I should tell you my thing first so you understand that I haven’t been avoiding you.” Myin nodded to let him speak first. “Sam is alive. Actually, he was never really gone. I didn’t know that until a couple weeks ago. But He’s not okay. He didn’t have a soul.”
“Sam’s alive?” Myin’s eyes watered with tears and the hurt was written all over her face. She cleared her throat. “I can see why that would make you very busy.”
“I’ve been working to get his soul back, and I’m hoping he will be okay,” Dean said, sadly.
“This is my daughter, Jenny,” Myin said bouncing the young child on her hip. Dean looked at the little girl, she was older than Dean expected her to be, and absolutely gorgeous. He hair was fine and still short, but a sandy blond, and her grey eyes had flecks of green and brown, much like Dani’s.
“She looks like the other girls,” Dean said smiling a bit.
“They get a lot of features from me, but I think Jenny looks like her dad,” Myin swallowed hard at the end of her sentence.
“Oh,” Dean said almost bitterly. He knew he couldn’t be with Myin, but he was certain that he had almost loved her at one point.
“Dean, meet your daughter,” Myin said letting his hold the young girl. “She was born the day you told me Sam had died.”
@waywardbaby @destielhoneybee @snffbeebee @deangirl7695 @spnbaby-67 @maddiepants @ladywinchester1967 @woodworthti666 @miraclesoflove @tumbler-tidbits @emilyshurley @akshi8278 @mannls @wendibird @bobasheebaby @theoneandonlymelol @chelsea072498 @donnaintx @justsomedreaming @supernaturalenchanted @kalesrebellion @prettydeaneyes @emoryhemsworth @laphirablack @dontshootmespence @its-a-spn-thing @vicmc624 @idreamofplaid @anaelsbrunette @winchesterxfamilybusiness @kickingitwithkirk @wayward-mikaelson @electraphyng @mariekoukie6661 @ @deanwinchesterinthedarktower @katelynw93
#a life unlived#supernatural#dean x ofc#sam x ofc#self insert#sam x myin#dean x myin#ofcs#angst#season 6#series#weekend at bobbys#you can't handle the truth#like a virgin
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Fate | Shawn Mendes
Summary: After having your heartbroken and getting rejected by the only guy who has ever asked you out, a good friend like Shawn may be just what you need to turn your horrible day around. [general au] [fluff] [’cowboy’/farm boy au] [friends to lovers]
Word Count: 4.3k
|Masterlist In Bio|
The last thing you hear as you leave your house is the screen door clattering against the old wood door frame. You need to get away, to clear your head of the fucked up mess you just experienced.
Your date, your first ever real date, lied, stood you up, and went on a date with another girl. It's literally the worst thing you can possibly imagine happening to you on your first date. Other than someone dying, but honestly this kind of feels worse.
Ten minutes before Josh; your date, is supposed to pick you up, he texted you. He said he couldn't make it, that his grandma had just been taken to the hospital. It was believable enough, things like that happen. You were disappointed of course but sent back well wishes and said you were open to reschedule. He didn't reply back. That was fine, he was probably with his family.
Not half an hour after Josh texted you, your friend Tia sent you a photo. It was two people, a guy and a girl sitting at a table in the food court at the mall in the city.
Tia: isn't that Josh?
You: no? He's at the hospital with his grandma.
Tia: no he ain't
Another picture downloaded and you could see very clearly that it was in fact Josh sitting there with a girl who is definitely not you. Your stomach lurched. He lied. He lied and went out with another girl. What the fuck? You got up and dropped your phone on the bed. The past few weeks... everything that's happened...all the flirting, the jokes, studying together. All of it meant nothing. Josh was a player and you were just part of his game.
That's how you find yourself about half a mile from your house on a gravel road that leads to the Mendes Ranch. The Mendes family are your neighbors and your family is good friends with them. They have a son, your age, named Shawn and a daughter a few years younger named Aaliyah. You look at the red barn and think maybe you'll go there and just chill for a while, hang out with the horses. Surely they won't mind.
You hear a vehicle approaching and you glance back to see the old truck that you know is Shawn's. Shawn, an actual walking talking gentleman of a "cowboy" who makes all the ladies swoon. He's like the James Dean of farm boys and you're so fucked for him but you're pretty sure you're just good friends according to him.
You step down off the road to avoid getting hit or ending up with gravel kicked at you from the tires.
"Hey Sweetheart!" The truck rolls to a stop beside you and your heart lurches into your throat. "You okay?"
Of course he has to stop and check on you. He's too nice, too good.
"Yeah I'm fine." You cross your arms for a moment before you wipe your nose with your sleeve, all while still avoiding eye contact. "I'm just going for a walk."
"But you're cryin'? Can I give you a ride back home?"
"I'm not going home right now."
"Well I am not leavin' you to cry on the side of the road. Come on, get in and I'll take you up to the ranch with me for a bit."
You sigh and wipe your face. Just what you want to do, get in Shawn's truck while crying. How is he going to see you now? Like the sad girl who lives down the road? Ugh. Great. You crawl up into the passenger seat and stare out the window as Shawn starts driving.
"So, why are you cryin'?"
"Stupid reasons," you mumble.
"Stupid reasons like what?"
You glance over and he looks genuinely concerned. "It's just a guy that wasn't who I thought."
"Oh." He goes quiet.
"Yeah. Stupid."
"It's not stupid to have your feelings hurt." He pulls the truck around the side of the big red barn where you were headed anyway. He would have caught up with you one way or another. "It's okay to feel let down or heart broken. You're a human being. We're supposed to feel things like that."
"Y-yeah I guess."
"Wanna help me?" He drops his keys on the seat between the two of you and slides out of the drivers side.
"With what?"
"Feed for the horses." He thumbs to the back of the truck and you look through the window into the bed. Sure enough there are probably a dozen twenty or so pound bags of feed in there.
"Sure, why not." You get out and Shawn jumps up into the back of the truck. He flips his maple leafs ball cap around and rolls up the sleeves of his dark red flannel shirt. "Should I catch them?"
"Can you catch'em, Sweetheart?"
"They're like twenty pounds right?"
"Thirty five." He grabs the corners of the end of one and hauls it up like it's nothing. "How bout I have you hand'em down to me?" He tosses the bag in his arms onto the ground and reaches out for your hand. You take it and he lifts you up into the truck bed with ease. "Alright, just drag or push 'em to the tailgate and I'll take 'em from there."
For the next few minutes you struggle to shove bags of feed down the truck bed and Shawn lifts them out, carrying them to the barn and dropping them off. By the eighth one you're pretty exhausted.
You drop down onto the cold metal bed and lean back on the last few bags propped against the cab. Shawn appears at the tailgate and chuckles, leaning forward, resting on his forearms. He doesn't even look winded.
"Gettin' tired?"
"Yeah. I don't know how you do it."
"Well, I've lived on the ranch my whole life. It's just part of what I gotta do." He jumps up in the back and leans against the bags with you, stretching his legs out beside yours. He's so much bigger, his legs are like a mile long compared to yours.
"I'm impressed."
He chuckles. "Yeah? You like a guy who can haul some feed?"
You flush and elbow him. He laughs loudly.
"I'm teasing. But hey, you're not cryin' over some guy anymore right?"
"Yeah, I guess not. I'm still pretty hurt though."
"What happened?"
You raise your eyebrows and he looks over, head back against the window of the truck. "You wanna know?"
"Yeah. How bad did this guy fuck up?"
"Well, he stood me up for my first date ever. Lied about his grandma being sick as the reason why he couldn't make the date. Then my friend saw him on a date with another girl literally half an hour after he said he couldn't make it."
Shawn's jaw drops. "What the hell? What kind of fucked up dick head does that? You don't treat ladies like that, hell, you don't treat anyone like that. Damn."
"Yeah. So you understand why I'm not in the best mood."
"I definitely get it, that's pretty harsh. Maybe I can help though?"
"Help?"
"Yeah, make it up to you." He stands up and grabs one of the feed bags.
"Okay?"
Shawn grins and hauls the bag over his shoulder. "We could hang out, just have a good night."
"You're asking me out?"
"No?" He jumps down off the tailgate and turns to face you with a smile. "I just wanna make your night not suck and get your mind off that jerk. What do you say?"
"I guess I'm not doing anything else." You push yourself up and drag the feed toward the end of the truck. "But it's not a date right?"
"Nope," he grunts as he throws the bag you've pushed to him over his shoulder. "Not unless you want it to be."
You watch him carry the bag to the barn and just stare. Was he asking you out? He said he wasn't but still...it seemed like he was. No, that's completely unlikely. Someone like Shawn could have any girl he wanted why would he want the girl down the road who used to catch frogs with him by the pond behind the barn and blow up corn cobs on independence day in his backyard? He isn't asking you out. He's just being nice because he's your friend and he feels bad for you since you got stood up.
"You gonna make me come up there and get those feed bags myself?"
You snap out of your thoughts and Shawn leans on the tailgate. "I've got them."
Shawn pulls his hat off and plops it on your head. "Get your head in the game sweetheart. Come on, lemme see you move those bags."
You push the brim up and he grins at you, all white pearly teeth and tanned skin with freckles across his cheeks and nose. Fuck he's so cute. You turn back and grab another bag, dragging it down the length of the bed. "Why are these so heavy?"
"They're feed." Shawn laughs. "It's full of vitamins and fiber and other good things horses need to stay alive. They're heavy with love."
"You're weird."
He grins and flicks the brim of the hat before he carries the bag away. Your heart skips a beat and you adjust the hat back down on your head. You can't help but wonder what he has in mind for a good time.
_____________________
"Open your eyes."
You open your eyes slowly, Shawn had you ride the whole way with them closed, and you're sitting in the truck in one of the fields by the edge of the woods not far from the house. You look around as if expecting something to happen. "So...what?"
"So, this is a good time." Shawn grins and shuts off the engine. "I've got stuff in the back."
"What...I don't understand."
"Come on, just get out."
You climb out of the truck and peek over into the bed to see a bunch of blankets and pillows piled in it. There's a bottle of something you think might be Jack Daniels and a blue cooler, a lantern and a grocery sack full of something.
"We're gonna watch the stars come out." Shawn says, dropping the tailgate and climbing up inside to arrange the pillows and blankets. "I got drinks, marshmallows and s'more fixin's as well as hot dogs and buns. We're just going to hang out, talk about life and forget about everything else for a while."
You crawl up into the bed of the truck and sit down on some pillows. "This is your idea of a good time?"
"Yep." He grins and flops down on the pillows next to you. "It's not complicated and it's fun."
You smile softly and he brushes your hand as he moves to get up. Your heart goes wild. If he only knew how he made you crazy.
"Wanna help me get firewood?"
You follow him down the truck bed and he jumps out, reaching out to grab your waist to help you down. "We're building a fire?"
"Yes?" He lifts you down and you flush at the closeness. "How else are we going to roast marshmallows and hot dogs?"
"I dunno. I didn't think about that I guess."
He looks down at you, eyes soft. His hands come up to your shoulders and he gives you a little massage. "Loosen up. You're too caught up in your head about Josh."
"You're right." You sigh and try to let go of the tension from Josh, but it's not just that. It's the fact you're out here alone with Shawn, on a date. Well, not real date. But nonetheless, he's the guy you've had it bad for since you were like twelve. The guy who has been a gentleman to you every day of his life. The guy who is easily one of your best friends and probably knows more about you than any of your other friends. This is really happening but you're not even there for it mentally. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should just go home."
"Hey, it's alright."
"No, I'm not being good company. I'm being mopey and lame."
Shawn chuckles. "Are you overthinking it? Because we're just hanging out. We've done this before. Just friends chilling and talking, no strings attached."
"Yeah, you're right. I dunno why I'm making this so complicated."
"Let's go get firewood. We can talk about it while we collect sticks and stuff."
______________________
"So why'd you wanna go out with Josh?"
"He was cute." You toss a couple of sticks in the tote Shawn brought with you to carry everything back. "He was nice, funny, y'know guy stuff."
"I mean, no I don't know 'cause I'm not into guys."
"Shawn!" You laugh and he chuckles. "You know what I mean. I'm sure you can relate from a guys point of view toward a girl who wasn't all you thought they were."
"Well, kinda. I haven't been with a lot of girls."
"Really? You seem like the type who could have anyone they want."
He chuckles. "Why's that?"
"Because you're so sweet and you're attractive, hard working, kind, gentle...you're you."
"Sounds like you like me."
You bite your lip and squat down to grab some more sticks and brush for tinder. You were not about to confess that you've been head over heels for years. Nope. No way. No h-
Shawn crunches some sticks in front of you and you look up, eyes traveling up his body until they meet his.
"You're standing on my sticks."
"I'll move if you tell me if you like me"
"Of course I like you. You're my friend."
"Oh come on, I know you have a crush on me." He steps back and leans against the nearest tree. "Aaliyah told me ages ago."
"What?!" You stand up and drop all the sticks under your arm. "She swore she'd never tell you!"
"So it's true?"
"N-no!"
"Okay, okay." He raises his hands in surrender and wanders away. "Just gather a few more logs and we'll be good to go back."
"Alright," you mumble, gathering up your dropped sticks and dumping them in the tote. Overhead thunder rumbles, distant but still very audible. You've got a few more hours before a storm rolls in. Or so you think.
______________________
You make it through roasting hot dogs and marshmallows with enough casual banter to keep things sort of normal. But you're hurting. Not only was the whole situation with Josh still weighing on you, but now Shawn knows you have a crush on him and he doesn't even like you back. He was supposed to be helping you right now, not making things worse.
Thunder rumbles and you sit up from your place among the pillows in the bed of the truck. Shawn is cleaning up the makeshift fire pit and you decide you don't really want to stay any longer. You just want to go home.
You slide off the end of the truck and grab your sweatshirt from the side of it. "I'm gonna head home."
"What?" Shawn dumps his water bottle over the smouldering embers of the fire. "Why?"
"I just want to be alone."
"Well, I can drive you back."
You shake your head. "Walking will help clear my head."
Shawn throws the rest of the supplies sitting on the ground into the bed of the truck and closes the tailgate. "Did I do somethin' wrong?"
"No...It's fine, I'm fine." You wrap your sweater around your waist and start walking across the field toward the road that leads to the house.
Shawn jogs after you. "Sweetheart, I can't let you walk home like this. A storm is gonna hit any minute. Please come back to the truck."
"I'll be fine. I won't melt, I'm not made of-"
Rain drops start falling rapidly, and to your left you can actually see the rain as it gets heavier, like a wave heading right for you as the clouds overhead start blowing in fast.
Shawn wraps his arms around you and hurries you back to the truck. He helps you in the passenger side quickly. By the time he's in the driver's seat, the rain is coming down heavy enough that you can't see but a few feet in front of the truck. "See? You would have been stuck in this."
"Yeah, yeah you were right. Take me home please."
Shawn gives you a concerned look before he starts the truck and heads for the road but you shrug it off. He doesn't get far before the truck lurches, jarring both of you in your seats. He revs the engine and the tires spin, mud splattering the back wheels. "Fuck," he mutters, opening his door to look out. "I knew it."
"What happened?" You lean forward to try and see out of his door but to no avail. "We're stuck?"
"Yup. We hit one of the tractor ruts in the field." He smacks the steering wheel and sighs angrily. "I knew I should have gone the other way. We're going to have to make a run for the house."
"But, can't we just wait until the storm passes?"
Shawn shakes his head. "No. You wanna sit in a hunk of metal during a storm? Doesn't seem like a great idea sweetheart."
Thunder shakes the truck and a crack of lightning streaks across the sky. He's right, but running in this storm doesn't seem much safer.
Shawn opens his door and slides out. You see him round the front of the truck and fall on his face in the mud.
"Shawn!" You open your door and get out onto a squelchy patch of field. In seconds you're soaked.
Shawn stands up and meets you beside the truck. He's got mud running down his face and his maple leafs hat is long gone, probably down in the rut somewhere.
You let out a sharp laugh. "Nice going, mud puppy."
"Mud puppy?" He scoops a glob of mud off his jeans and tosses it at you, causing it to splatter up your chest. "Look who's talkin'."
"Shawn!" You shout angrily. The rain has washed most of the mud off your face as you go to wipe it off. "You're a jerk!"
"You know that's a goddamn lie."
"Yes you are! It's your fault we're even out here!" You stomp off toward his house, feet sloshing in your tennis shoes, clothes clinging to every inch of your body. The rain is ridiculously cold and you're miserable. "This is all your fault!"
"My fault?!" He yells from behind you and you don't look back. "Mind tellin' me how any of this is my fault?!"
"If you would have just left me on the side of the road to mope I wouldn't be here right now!"
His footsteps approach rapidly and you feel a hand on your shoulder just as you approach the back lawn of the house. "I'm so sorry I tried to be a good friend!" Thunder cracks over head. "I'm sorry I wasn't gonna stand by and watch my friend get heartbroken over some douchebag who doesn't deserve her!"
"Oh what do you know about who deserves me?!" You shove his hand off your shoulder and head for the house once more.
"I know you deserve a man who's gonna treat you right and love you every day of your goddamn life!"
"Yeah?! Well when you find one of them let me know!"
"I'm right here!" He yells your name, but you keep going. "Damn it, look at me!"
You turn and look back at him standing in the middle of the backyard with his arms out. Was he seriously admitting that he wants you? He walks across the yard and stops before you.
"I'm right here," he says, breathless. "And I'm always gonna be here."
"Shawn, you can't be serious."
"What?" He shakes his head and slicks back his hair. "I can't feel the same way about you as you do about me?"
"But...you..."
"But what? You didn't really let me talk about it earlier and I wasn't going to push it after you got upset that I said I knew you had a crush on me."
"You're lying."
"The fuck I am." He grabs your face in his big hands and forces you to look at him. "I've been in love with you since I was twelve years old. You're my best friend and the only woman I have ever wanted to spend my life with. I'm sorry it has to come out like this, but I can't go another day without tellin' you the truth."
You grab his arms and let out a little laugh of disbelief. Here you are standing in the middle of a storm confessing your love for each other. Could this be any more like a movie? Seriously, romance like this didn't happen in real life and it surely didn't happen to you.
"Say you swear." You bring your pinky up and he drops one hand from your face, hooking his pinky with yours. "Do it, say it if you're not lying."
He laughs. "I swear. I swear on everything living and dead that I am not lying to you right now and I won't ever lie to you in the future."
You stare at his dark eyes, trying to find any fault in his words. There is nothing but pleading, heartfelt eyes staring back at you and you know he isn't lying. "Kiss me? If you're serious, kiss me."
"I thought you'd never ask." He drops your pinky and leans down, bringing your face up to his and kissing you lovingly. His lips are wet from the rain but they're warm and soft. You can feel every ounce of love he has flowing through him as he kisses you like it's the last time he ever will. He pulls back, staring down at you. "As much as I'd love to keep doing this, I think we're going to catch a cold if we stay out here any longer."
____________________
"Put that end over the porch light." Shawn instructs and you lift the corner of the sheets he pinned together up and over the light fixture.
The two of you had gone in and got changed out of your wet clothes, kissing some more in his room before Shawn said he wouldn't have the night end just yet. He brought out a bunch of sheets and had you grab all the blankets from the linen closet to set out on the porch. It was then that you realized he was making a fort to watch the storm like you did as kids sometimes.
"I'll get the pillows," you say as you duck under his arm to get in the back door for the couch pillows.
"Grab some drinks! There's whiskey in the cupboard over the fridge!"
You laugh and throw the pillows out onto the porch before going to the kitchen. You open the fridge and there is a bunch of water and juice. Not so great with whiskey. Then you spot them, the red cans at the back of the crisper drawer. Two ice cold cokes. Perfect.
You set the cans on the counter and look up to the cupboard Shawn claimed there was alcohol in. It's way out of your reach. Great. You look around for a step stool or really anything to stand on that won't collapse. There is an empty wood crate by the side door and you drag it over.
"Sweetheart what're you doin'?"
You turn and look back to see Shawn standing beside the island counter with his arms crossed. "I'm getting the whiskey?"
"You're gonna fall." He puts his hands on your waist and lifts you off the crate. "Don't want you gettin' hurt," he says with a kiss to the back of your head. "I'll get the liquor, you go set up the fort."
Shawn joins you a few minutes later and he has two glasses full of whiskey and coke as well as a bag of popcorn and some chips.
"Planning on being out here a while?"
"All night." He says as he sits down behind you. He pulls you back between his legs and you lean against his chest.
The storm rages on, winds whipping the rain against the outer eaves of the porch. The air is cool but heavy with the rich earthy green smell that comes with storms. It's refreshing, like everything is starting anew, and in a way it is.
Shawn's hand cards through your hair, short nails massaging gently into your scalp. His other hand comes around and you take it, threading your fingers between his as he rests it against your chest.
"Why did we wait so long?"
"Who knows? I like to believe everything happens for a reason." Shawn says, rubbing his socked foot against yours. "Maybe this was the plan for us all along."
"I didn't know you believed in that sort of thing. You think fate brought us together?"
He kisses the side of your head and lays his hand over your heart. "Honey, I think fate brought us together a long time ago. We just had to take the right steps to get to where we are now."
You lay your hand over his on your chest. "I'm glad I didn't go home, and I got in the truck with you this afternoon. I almost didn't." You chuckle airily. "To think that one little decision could have changed everything."
"Mmmhmm." He leans back into the pillows more and you adjust yourself against his chest. "We're here now, and I don't plan on ever lettin' you go."
"Good." You close your eyes and smile, relaxing into the steady rise and fall of his chest. "Because I don't plan on going anywhere."
End
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Ghosts of Angelville
Location: lux nightclub / Ghost Outbreak
Mentions: John Constantine, Zatanna Zatara, Marie L'Angelle, Jody
Triggers: Abuse, mention of past Murders, homophobia
Jesse had been having a good time spending time just watching after his friends, in truth he always worried around this time of year. Something about how powerful this night could make people if they only knew what lurked just underneath the cute outfits and candy-filled night. He’d come with Chloe ensuring she’d be alright mentally as she came to see her friends, looking after her left pretty little room to actually meet up with John something he’d been wanting to do all night. Just as he was able to search for the male that was when all hell broke loose, ghosts started flying everywhere either terrifying Lucifer’s guests or just flying by without a care at the fact they were finally free. He knew this was beyond supernatural and was about to look for Zatanna and Michael to see if he could offer help when he felt someone roughly grab him by the back of his neck and throw him against the wall. “Been a while huh boy?” He heard the voice of the man he’d all but killed with his own hands. “Jody...You’re dead...and I beat you” He muttered out through the slight pain shooting through his back as he sat up to look his parents killer in the face. “How in the hell did you get back, cause I know that’s where I sent you when I smashed your head against the wall.” He mused smirking slightly only to feel the kick to his gut, “Still got that mouth on you huh boy?” no one could hurt him like Jody did growing up so when he felt the other holding him down with a knee in his back he knew he’d suffocate if he didn’t get him off. “Get….Off Jody….If you wanted a fight the-” He groaned unable to finish his sentence when the man applied more pressure to his lungs cutting off his airflow. “You’ll do well to be quiet now, I’ve come bearing gifts” Jody sneered into his ear, causing confusion under he saw a wheelchair approach him. “Sweetheart….. Ain’t you gonna grandma a kiss?” Marie L’Angelle uttered with a chuckle that used to terrify his very nightmares. The sight mixed with her voice filled him with such dread, she couldn’t be alive again, he’d killed her and he’d enjoyed every moment of it. The sole act that damned his soul and here she was, refusing to meet her gaze like a stubborn child he kept his head down until Jody gripped his hair pulling his head up to face her once again. “You give you Goddamn Grandmother Respect you faggot”
Jesse grunted at the force and wording Jody had been the one all those years ago to catch him having thoughts about other men, he still carried the scars from that talk. “Hello Grandma….been a hot second...did you really have to sic your dog on me?” he mused before feeling Jody’s hands wrap around his neck strangling him. He could feel the air leaving his lungs and on the verge of blacking out so he quickly muttered a spell expelling Jody’s ghost from this place knowing the spell he’d used would cause the ghost pain. “I’m not a little kid anymore, I bet you once I can do it again. How did you two get here?” He demanded ignoring the pain in his back and throat which he was sure was bruising by the moment.” Jesse, what a good little voodoo priest you’ve turned into, such a spell came from grandma’s spellbook. And here you told me you wanted nothing to do with me, yet I’ve watched you prodding around with these magic freaks, becoming friends with the devil and fornicating with that Idiot Constantine. These are not the actions of a L’Angelle! Most certainly not of my favorite grandson, you’ve brought nothing but shame to our name, wonder why you’re mother didn’t bother to slip through the veil after all its open. Maybe she saw what a disappointment you’ve become, wasting your life with someone who will just toss you away like the trash you are.” Marie responded to let her disappointment and anger fill her tone.
“Shut up you old bat...you don’t get to control my life anymore, I’ll date who I want and do what I’d like with my life. The veil has been broken?” He questioned already knowing in his mind he had to find the others and see if he could offer help. “You hold no more power over me, you’re nothing but a weak sad old women” He all but spat out he was done playing this game with Jody has gone he didn’t have to worry about her spirit. Or so he thought when he found himself thrown up against the wall held there by an invisible force, he could move as he watched his grandmother get up from her chair her old self morphing into the one he’d known as a child. “You aren’t scared of me anymore? My sweet one, you forget my power, you believe you love that British idiot huh? What if I took my time with him broke him down in front of you? He has so many fears that one, so filled with self-loathing I’m sure you’ve sensed it, my dear. How delicious it would be to consume his soul while you watched knowing it was your own fault for picking a disgusting relationship.” She almost purred in his ear “Don’t you dare to-” His voice was taken from him with a simple utterance of a couple of words. “Spare me the dramatics, you hold no power here, but then again to really hurt you maybe I should take apart this life you seem to love, with one slice through Zatanna’s throat and a carefully placed piece of demonic signs, you’re world will come crumbling down love. You’ll have hell on earth and no one to blame but yourself, after all, what’s another body on the pile?” Marie all but cackled as she released him from her hold “Just remember Jesse darling Grandma loves you more then anything” she mused before disappearing he was still attempting to catch his breath as he watched her disappear. Her words hit a chord with him, back to a time when anyone got close to him they were met with death, he wouldn’t let that happened to Zatanna or John even if it killed him. He cleared his sore throat knowing the bruises around his neck would start showing as he ran off in search of his friends, he’d worry about his issues later once the dead was put back to rest.
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Well, I'm almost 5 months in. The struggle seems to get worse instead of better, which I halfway expected. I felt so numb in the beginning and distracted with having to take care of a baby at 52 years old.
It is absolutely bizarre the range of emotions that I have felt. I'm sickened by the relief that I feel not having a deal with her addiction anymore. I'm excited, exhausted, and totally feel robbed of the grandmother experience that I've spoken of so many times. I feel embarrassed and like a shitty grandma that I feel relief when my ex takes the baby oftentimes. He never, ever, ever seems exhausted or ready for a break the way that I do. I love that baby with every fiber of my being. But I think I have not yet mourned the loss of the life that I thought I was building for myself. Not to mention my ex barely works at all, so it's easy for him to have energy and excitement for taking the baby as often as possible. He has his own business painting houses. And between losing his daughter, his own depression, and the coronavirus pandemic, he has hardly worked lately. So on top of everything else, I'm paying his bills, because without that, he's unable to help me with the baby.
After Melody died we decided as a family that it would be best that my ex move into the dreaded condo. This is the same condo that my ex-mother-in-law lived in when she had her heart attack. And the same condo that my daughter overdosed in. But that fucking condo is paid off, it was bought with cash. So, because my ex was essentially homeless, he has to live there if he's going to help me. And the only bills are the HOA, and the utilities. Plus there's the added expense of Melody's car that my ex is driving, the car payments that go with it along with the insurance payments. So I'm literally paying all of those plus my own bills so I can have a few days on my own... Until the long awaited inheritance comes from my ex's mother's estate -which will be just enough for my ex to buy a van for his business, get his teeth fixed, and overall get back on his own 2 feet - then my paying his bills stops. Should be in June sometime.
I feel sickened even saying all this. I should be elated to have Melody's flesh and blood offspring in my life, and I am most of the time. Not to mention this kid is amazing. He is so joyful, completely has Melody's spirit, and is about as easy as a baby can be. But that doesn't make my struggle any less.
The level of guilt that I feel because I'm relieved when I have a break from the baby is reprehensible to me. The level of sadness and missing my daughter is incomprehensible to me every time that baby learns something new or does something new. I can literally hear her voice, her laughter, her love for her child every time he pulls up to stand or laughs or crawls or eats his dinner with his own hands or when he babbles "Mamamamama". That's by far when I miss her the most.
I also feel super guilty when I think about if she was still here, knowing the downward spiral that she was on before she overdosed. There's this devil and angel sitting on my shoulders arguing with each other about how I don't miss the addict, but I do miss my daughter. How do you reconcile that? I don't think you can.
I feel like if she was still here, she would be making my life a living hell as an addict, and would have probably died from Corona, because of the major lung and heart damage that she had done to herself, along with the reckless life that goes with being a heroin addict. But near the end of her life, she was literally fighting everyday to find long-term rehab. And what if she had gotten in? I feel like we would have been living the life that we had been for over a year that was clean and sober and fun as hell. There are just so many questions, and scenarios, it boggles my mind.
I found out a lot of stuff after she passed away. I found out that she was far more down the rabbit hole then I thought. She was living the addict life 100% over the last two to three months before she died. I thought that her grandmother getting sick and dying was the catalyst, for the most part. But now, as I said before, she was completely and utterly relapsed. How on God's green earth, after everything I've seen and been through, could I still be so fucking blind? And the pain doesn't stop there. Just the other day I found that my toolbox was missing. She clearly hocked it.
I'm just posting because I don't care what groups are out there for support, I still never feel like I can speak my brutal truth. Not to mention, groups like Nar-Anon and others are all about the God talk. I'm so fucking over the God talk. Can I just find a fucking group where we can just let loose of our feelings no matter how grotesque they are and not have to pray at the beginning in the end of it? I'm always strangely comforted to know when other people have been through what I've been through, while still being sick that this could happen to more than one person, not to mention hundreds of thousands of people. That's the only real reason I want to join any group at all, is just so I don't feel alone in all this mess. So in my mind, I have nowhere else to go accept my Tumblr blog.
I'm so lost, and so alone. I really, genuinely do not know how to deal with my shit. I need to be up and happy and perky for this baby, and for the most part I am. But when it's bedtime, and I'm playing one of mommy's videos for the baby while he drinks his bedtime bottle, he always smiles at a certain part, and I'm shattered every time. There's not a single soul on this Earth that knows how much pain I'm in, but not in the sense that one might think. Yes, I miss my baby girl more than words can express. But I'm so fucking glad the addict is gone. And I feel disgusted even saying that. I also feel a lot of guilt around not promoting his father's memories at all. There's a lot of resentment there, but I feel like the right thing to do is to make sure he remembers his father too. How do I resolve that?
And other logistical thoughts come to mind. Like I am going to be 70 when he turns 18. I'm going to die when he's fairly young (assuming I don't die younger of a car accident or some other stupid shit). It's so not fair to him. And I think about what am I supposed to tell him throughout the years? He's going to know who mama is thru videos on my phone, the pictures on the wall, and the gravesite that we visit all the time. I don't know how I'm going to answer the questions this sweet baby is going to have. I don't know how to tell him how much she loved him and make him understand that she did not choose drugs over him. Drugs chose her over life. I also need to make sure that I put in my will who will take the baby if I die. Let's look at the options... There's my sister who has desperately wanted a child over the last 10 years or so and is 48 years old. She's had mental health issues for as long as she's been alive. To put it bluntly, she's incompetent of having a child full time. She is also narcoleptic I think I mentioned before. Sorry honey, you've got to stay awake for this one. Then there's my ex, who loves the baby equally as I do. But he doesn't have a responsible bone in his body and is an anarchist and conspiracy theorist. He's incapable of taking care of a baby or child from a responsibility standpoint, not to mention the crazy shit he would put in his head as he gets older. Finally there's my son. He's pretty much the only one I would trust to do right by this child. But he's made it quite clear that he's never wanted to be a father. I did ask him about it, and he said that he would accept the task if it came to it. But I want someone who wants the baby, not has to take the baby, not just someone who would accept the responsibility.
I need help, no question about it. But no matter how many Google searches that I do, I can't find a single place or counselor where I can get very specific help for my issues. I don't want to let this baby down. I don't want to fuck him up either. I want to be the very best grandma and mother that I can be for him.
What do I do?
Oh and finally, I've been drinking a lot more - or more frequently. If it was up to me, I'd drink daily. Quantity wise, it's not that much. At most a bottle of wine, mostly when my ex has the baby, but sometimes after he's asleep for the night. I'm not trying to get drunk, per se. Just trying to unclench my muscles and stress. Sometimes it eases my sadness, sometimes it exacerbates it. Plus it helps me fall asleep, which has been a challenge for me since entering menopause. I take a 1/4 bar (.5mg) of Xanax frequently before bed to help sleep, and never up my dose (too scared). But if I skip a couple of days, by the 3rd day I have withdrawals that feel likey old anxiety attacks. I take a quarter & the symptoms fade. Well ain't that just the last thing that I need! I want to phase it out, but as long as I have sleep issues, a job, and a baby, I don't see how I can. I skip days purposely so it remains effective without taking higher doses. Now that I'm working from home, this would be a great time to phase out. But every time I try to skip, I'm tossing and turning all night - which is torture.
I just wish I could get into a yoga routine or any other exercise routine, as well as meditation. I know that that would help all of my issues. But gumption is not exactly my forte right now.
#narcotics addiction#drug addict#heroin addiction#addict#addiction#recovering addict#loss#death by overdose#overdose#mourning#heroin
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from a kids perspective
Of course I was mad, especially when I looked at Jeremy Jones’ dumb face and my lunch spilled all over the grass. Punching his giant bird nose would be satisfying but the prospect of facing Mama’s sad face kept my fists to my sides.
“Poor Bee-Bee spilled her lunch again!” Jeremy taunted, his ugly mouth begging for a smack. I gritted my teeth at his use of that nickname. When I joined Mrs. Lund’s fourth-grade class I insisted everyone call me Abigail, only Mama calls me Bee-Bee. I flicked one of my braids back from my face and put my fists on my hips,
“That ain’t my name Jeremy and you’d know that if you weren’t so stupid.” I turned away from the bully and picked through my spilled lunch, the crackers had stayed in their bag but my peanut butter sandwich had landed on an anthill. I huffed a sigh, I had worked hard making that sandwich just this morning. Mama had put the peanut butter in the freezer again even though she knew it made it hard to scoop. I had to microwave the jar and I still went through three slices of bread before my sandwich was perfect. A startled shriek left my mouth as I tumbled forward, extra momentum from a push knocking me over. I launched back to my feet, ready to fight, but Jeremy had already run off like a scaredy-cat. I threw the bag of crackers as hard as I could at him, but it wasn’t even close to hitting. I kicked the sandy sandwich and stomped away from the food graveyard that was supposed to be lunch. I wasn’t even supposed to be outside, I had snuck out of the lunchroom because Amanda Bent wanted to sit next to me and she chewed with her mouth open. I marched away from the school, the smell of peanut butter following me like a bad dream. I didn’t hesitate when I came to the playground boundary and entered the woods behind our school. Mrs. Lund had taken us back here on a hike once to look for frogs so I knew there was a creek that turned into a waterfall somewhere. A few steps in and I met a pricker bush, thorns scraped my skin as I stubbornly pushed forward. I crouched low to the ground to avoid getting scratched and eventually crawled on my belly through the thick bush. The branches swallowed the sunlight and the cool dirt made me feel like I was buried alive. Bits of panic crawled up my throat and shot down my arms and legs. I wriggled faster, the bush feeling endless. In what felt like both forever and no time at all I dragged myself out of the brambles and into the late summer sun. I looked back at the thorny bush, it was taller than me and I couldn’t see the school at all. I brushed the dirt off my clothes and hocked some spit on my hand to shine up the buttons on my overalls. The trees were really tall on this side of the prickers, taller than the ones I had seen with Mrs. Lund, but I could hear water, which had to mean I was on the right track. I took a step away from the pricker bushes. Ferns tickled my legs and the sun left bright yellow polka-dots on the fuzzy moss ground. Thick scarves of moss hung from tree branches and swayed even though there was no wind. They reminded me of the blue windchimes that used to hang outside our house, the ones Mama gave away because we didn’t have room at the new apartment. The trees got closer and closer together and the sound of the creek got louder. I had to shuffle through the trees now and moss brushed against my cheeks. “Darn woods” I grumbled as I squeezed between two trees that were thicker than I was tall. “Darn trees, scuffin’ up my clothes.” with a final push I tumbled from between the trees landing on my hands and knees. I grabbed handfuls of moss, got to my feet, and whirled around chucking the handfuls at the trees. “Dumb things!” I shouted, pointing and shaking a finger at them like Mrs. Lund did to the boys when they got too rowdy. I wiped my hands together to dust off any dirt and swung back around. The trees were a dense fence behind and to the side of me, in front of me was a field with tall grass. I scrunched my brow up, I could hear the water but I couldn’t see it past the grass. As I walked the ground got mushy and taller grasses with fat brown sausages on the very top pointed at the sky. My pink sneakers squished deep into the mud and sucked around the edges of my shoes. I grimaced down at them - the water was loud, almost as loud as the train that would zoom by to flatten the pennies Mama and I put on the rails - if I didn’t keep going then they’d be dirty for no reason. I trudged forward, the mud got deeper and deeper. My chest heaved and I stumbled forward when the mud pulled at my legs. The soft bottom of the ground fell away from my feet. A screech left my throat as I sunk to my waist. I wriggled, trying to loosen my legs but I sunk deeper. I used my hands to dig in the mud but got my hands caught. “HELP! HELP!” I screeched pinned in place by the mud. The mud stank and was cold where it pressed against my neck, it pressed tightly against my chest. I reached my head back to get air. I couldn’t breathe right and spots danced along the blue sky. Sludge crept along my face, thick and black like tar. I gasped for air, mud filling my mouth. I gurgled out in terror. “MAMA!” 🏵🏵🏵 Back when I was 7 and everyone -not just Mama- called me Bee-Bee, my Daddy died. I don’t remember a lot but I do remember how big he was. He could toss me up so high the clouds would tickle my neck. Mama always said if Daddy wasn’t careful the stork would take me back. When Mama told me Daddy went to heaven I asked if I could go too. She cried real hard for a long time. I was too stupid to know that Daddy wasn’t coming back. I don’t ask about him anymore, but I like to imagine that heaven is all fluffy white clouds, just like the ones Daddy threw me up to. I didn’t think I was dead because wherever I was didn’t look like heaven. I rolled over on my back, I was covered in muck head to toe. I spit a glob of mud out of my mouth and scraped it away from my face. I propped up on my elbows, it was dark and wet and smelled like rotten eggs. I couldn’t hear the creek anymore, but it still sounded wet. Water dripped from the ceiling and plopped onto the slick floor and there was a sloshing sound like someone was wading through a puddle. I stood up, peering into the darkness that surrounded me. “Hello?” I called out. My voice echoed away bouncing around and pinging off the walls. “Hello?” A voice mimicked back at me, “Hello? Hello? Hello?” A million voices joined in mocking me, getting louder and louder. I clapped my hands over my ears and scrunched my eyes shut. I crouched low, hot tears burning behind my eyelids. The voices broke into laughter. Hushed giggles and deep chuckles, they didn’t sound right, they didn’t sound real. As if on cue all the noise stopped. I stayed crouched, hands cautiously leaving my ears, I cracked my eyes open. I slapped my hands over my mouth to keep in a scream. An enormous white monster stood in front of me. It kept its long muzzle wide open in a smile, thick black mud pooled in its mouth, and dripped out between its rows and rows of needle teeth. Its eyes were unfocused; round and white with pinprick pupils that darted side to side, despite that I knew it was focused on me. It looked like the mangy coyote that had died under Mamas favorite willow tree. The coyote had been dead for a long time when Mama and I found it, all its legs straight and stiff, flies buzzing around its mouth and eyes. Its hair had all fallen out and you could see gray skin all covered in scabs. Mama sent me back to the house and I watched from the window as she pulled on her pink gardening gloves and dragged it away. This thing was bigger than the coyote, it was bigger than me. It walked forward silently, I stood up my heart beating faster than a hummingbird. It got close enough I could smell the rotten mud from its mouth, drops of it fell on my shoulder and rolled down my arm. “What do you want?” I tried to sound firm like Mama does when grandma calls on the phone, but my voice trembled and broke. A million voices came from its open mouth, old voices, young voices, deep voices, shrill voices, and everything in between. “Want.” It echoed, not as loud as when it first mocked but just as disordered and varied. “We want more souls.” Its jumbled voice hissed, the voices mocked and echoed, some sounding anticipatory and manic, others sorrowful and angry. “Well you can’t have mine” I dug my fists into my hips, cocking one to the side and squinting at the beast. The voices split, some howling in outrage and others shrieking with laughter. “Brave” the laughing voices whispered fondly. “Foolish” the angered voiced hissed. “We could swallow you whole,” the teeth glinted between layers of ooze, “or chew on your bones until they splinter.” I shook my head, hands still on my hips but shaking with fear. “Then give us something as bright and beautiful as your soul.” The voices spoke together again, finding unity in the desire for something shiny and new. I felt my pockets, inside was a purple paperclip and a crumpled clear plastic candy wrapper. I presented them on an open palm to the monster, my entire arm shaking as it studied the items. “Not bright enough”, it rumbled, “Not beautiful enough, we will consume you.” Its giant mouth opened wide creaking. “Wait! Wait.” I pleaded, “I have something else.” I brushed my hands over my clothes reaching into my pockets again. Sweat beaded up on my face and hands as I desperately checked and rechecked for anything shiny. My hand brushed against my overall straps, landing on the button there. It was caked in mud so I spit in my hand and viciously rubbed it making it shine brightly. The monster watched, mouth stilled in a wide position, mud had begun to fall more quickly, slopping out of the edge of its mouth instead of dripping. I pulled on the button, wrenching it from my clothes but it stayed tight. “Give” it spat, wild eyes trained on the glint of the button. A sob left my mouth as I tugged harder and the monster inched even closer. It reached its mouth forward, splashing dark mud over me. I snatched my hands away in fear. Delicately the monster snipped the button from the denim of my overalls. My breath was trapped in my throat as the teeth brushed against me. It threw its head back and swallowed the button, throat jerking as it slid down to its stomach. The monster hummed in satisfaction. Suddenly it launched itself forward, knocking me onto my back. I shrieked aloud and flung my hands up, scrabbling at the huge paws with equally huge talons pinning me down. It tilted its head down, black mud streamed from its eyes, nose, and mouth. The thick tar-like substance fell onto my face, shockingly cold where it landed. The black mud trailing the monster's face reflected the tears that dripped off my cheeks. 🏵🏵🏵 “Abigail! Abigail wake up!” I jolted up, whacking my head on something hard and plastic. I looked around, hand rubbing the bump. I was tucked half underneath one of the blue benches scattered around the playground, only feet away from where Jeremy knocked my lunch. Mrs. Lund stood in front of me, hands on hips, her shoe tap-tap-tapping on the grass. “Mrs. Lund?” I asked, confused to all heck, “wha- what's going on?” “You’ve been missing for half an hour that's what, we got half the school looking for you.” “B-but-” I stammered, “No. No. No. I don’t want to hear it. Your Mother has been working herself into a tizzy, shame on you” Mrs. Lund kept talking, more to herself than to me, “I couldn’t do it if I were her, single mom, working all those jobs, “ she shook her head. “Get out from under that bench Abigail.” I wriggled my way out from under the bench and grabbed the hand Mrs.Lund held out to me. I was too old for hand-holding but Mrs. Lund wouldn’t tell anybody. She started frog-marching back to the school, forcing me to half jog to keep up. I craned my head over my shoulder, looking back at the woods. I could just make out the shadow of a pricker bush, the branches sticking out like a bad case of bedhead. Goosebumps trailed down my arms, with my free hand I reached for my overall strap. Where the button usually rested was a ragged tear. “Mrs. Lund?” I asked, tugging her hand to get her attention when she didn’t respond right away. “What Abigail?” She snapped. “Is Hell real?”
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It’s 2020
and we all have 2020 vision now, right? ;)
anyway, i feel like i’ve made a lot of progress this past year. I started myself on antidepressants, I konmaried my house (and email), got rid of everything that does not Spark Joy™. I got my anxiety under control, I gave up caffeine and all but gave up alcohol, I started working out, I got a gym membership, I stopped and started T again after I got my acne under control, I started a long-term reversible form of birth control (nexplanon), I set up an appointment for top surgery. I paid off all my credit card debt, I took advantage of my insurance and went to an optometrist and got a prescription for glasses. And this weekend I got rid of a ton of furniture I didn’t need (that i couldn’t get rid of myself), and I finally just cleaned my bathtub again, and now I just haven’t felt this clean and tidy in years.
I still have a ways to go, my room is still a mess, I’m tired all the time and cleaning and tidying is still difficult for me. But I’m a better person than I was last year, and I’m going to be even better in 2020.
This year, I am going to move out, for real this time. I know when my lease is up, and I have access to search for roommates by my deadline. I plan on getting myself a TV I’ll actually use this time, figure out how to hook it up to my computer so I can stream movies/TV shows I’ve downloaded (ain’t nobody got time fo DVDs anymore) instead of probably ruining my eyes watching them on my laptop.
I’m going to change my name legally, finally, since I’ve always wanted to, but I was afraid to since I want to change my last name too and I don’t want my family to feel disrespected. My grandpa is dead now, so he can no longer give me shit about it. I just hope my grandma is ok with me taking her maiden name. And god I hope this process doesn’t kill me, because I heard it’s a bitch.
I’m going to save actual money this year, if I can, if it makes sense with all the student loans I owe, and I’ll apply for loan forgiveness again, which I’ve been meaning to do forever. I’ll try and cut costs where I can and stop all the automatic payments that do not Spark Joy™.
I’ll spend time with my friends and family, instead of sleeping my life away. I plan to become a bigger part in my cousin’s life now, who’s starting high school and is interested in cooking and baking. I will hang out with you again, @seibaku and @phoenixiancrystallist, and not just once a year.
I’m thinking of seeing more movies in theaters this year, even if I have to go alone. It’s an experience I often miss because of schedule conflicts with friends, and we really don’t do much talking during the movie anyway.
I plan on baking more and maybe cooking again, hopefully now that I have a more tidy house. And especially, more than anything, cooking for other people, something I enjoy doing more than anything.
And reading more, peeling myself away from screens near the end of the day. I realize I need to read to feel alive, whether it’s posts on tumblr or other social media or wikipedia articles. I need to absorb knowledge to feel alive.
And most of all, I resolute to try to be a better person, each and every day. Because the Good Place, because Eleanor and Chidi, because I owe it to you, we owe it to each other, to try, to keep trying, to keep fighting for each other. And I owe it to myself, too.
#personal#2020#new year's resolutions#depression#ftm#trans#the good place#debt#konmarie#marie kondo#moving out#also i'm turning 30 this year and that freaks me out more than you could ever imagine
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ladies and theydies, my best go at wrangling a plot out of kttk/tma aka the keys to the archives (w thanks to @whotellsurstory)
the architect is a lifelong student of the fears, studying them all without binding herself to any. her big plans of founding a dynasty beyond fear are dashed when each of her sons finds his way to a power of his own—sunday to the stranger, the mariner to the vast, the piper to the end. the old one starts working more directly against the fears and the family finally splinters
seeing her failure and keen to punish her arrogance, the entities spend the next few decades taking any opportunity they can to hunt and taunt her. she’s beaten them back every time, but she’s getting old now and knows that they won’t allow her any kindness in death so she returns to her old notes on a potential 15th fear and gets to work.
years later, arthur penhaligon nearly dies in the course of An Encounter which he would quite happily never talk about again, except leaf saw the whole thing and very much does want to talk about it. she’s always been sensitive to the entities and her grandma was eye-aligned so even if she doesn’t have all the answers she’s definitely got some of em (though as far as she knows the entities are all just different avenues to getting Cool Powers)
‘i’m good, thanks,’ says arthur, and then people start getting sick. enter dame primus, aka mother of spiders, and an offer to help him cure the plague in exchange for a favour. she is definitely definitely definitely definitely a monster, but arthur accepts.
dp’s help essentially amounts to ‘go find this dude. stop him unless you want the world to end.’ her favour is ‘do that six more times.’ in order, that’s: monday/corruption, tuesday/buried, wednesday/flesh, thursday/slaughter, friday/eye, saturday/spiral, and sunday/stranger. the piper is an ongoing inconvenience but the mariner’s mostly chill
suzy’s an avatar of the end along with thousands of other kids snatched from untimely deaths by the piper, who has some (deeply misguided) Ideas about a ritual. until he comes to claim what he’s owed most of them just wander through history paying their dues to death until eventually suzy takes to wandering around arthur. he decides he can probably trust her after she saves him from the buried, and he likes fred too much to leave him to the slaughter.
leaf cleans out her garage and borrows every occult text in the library. arthur gets snacks. suzy and fred pop in between attending deathbed nightmares to help with research and/or eldritch road trips, and dp comes to pull strings when she has to. what’s really tasty about tma to me is that it unfolds over such a long period, slowly unspooling all this deep lore and intricate connections and evolving relationships and we don’t have time to get into it all now but just Imagine
(dp/suzy/fred have all heard of the architect and the old one, and leaf finds bits and pieces of their work, but as far as anyone seems to know they both disappeared ages ago. no-one has anything to say about a 15th power.)
the not-them replaces arthur at some point and no-one notices except for leaf. she manages to get rid of it but it brings her closer to the eye, much to arthur’s dismay. it’s not until she goes up against the flesh (already a very bad time for a vegetarian) that she fully understands what the powers are Really about, but by that point it’s too late and in the course of defeating friday leaf becomes a fully-fledged avatar of the eye herself
this endgame is unforgivably vague but. in taking down sunday arthur manages to put enough clues together to figure out that the architect is still alive and, figuring she has to be a valuable ally if not a friend, goes looking for her alone. he finds her! it’s not good.
the architect, as it turns out, has spent the intervening years embracing the extinction. violating all sorts of environmental laws, encouraging harmful policies, splashing terrifying statistics around wherever she can. she’s the first and only avatar of the extinction, and all she wants now is to die so she can embrace what happens next. (taking the rest of the world, and the rest of its fear, down with her is an added bonus.)
she picked arthur because he was scared—of sickness, of loss, of death, of a meaningless universe, of being controlled, of not being human anymore—and because he was kind—he wouldn’t let the world burn if he could stop it. she orchestrated his Encounter herself and had him marked for the extinction from the start, so that every blow he dealt and every piece of his humanity he supplanted was all for the extinction. she let the web know she was interested in him and let her get there “first” so she could stay hidden while he learned the way she’d hoped her sons would learn before they got distracted. obviously he still had a little way to go, but 8 out of 15 ain’t bad and now’s as good a time as any
so the architect kills herself and ushers in the extinction. there is catastrophe and cataclysm, but instead of nothing there is Something Else—and arthur, second avatar of the extinction, post-human and post-apocalypse, is the only one left to inherit it.
#my magnum opus.......#i DID consider architect/smirke but an awful mary keay/gertrude robinson hybrid is so much tastier#also i know traditionally they would be working together/two people same person bu t dp/web and architect/extinction is just too good#the keys to the archives#the ONLY tag that i care about now thank you!!
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The Ultimate Mission
May I have everyone’s attention please?
It’s time we begin the preparations for our mission.
It’s about time.
So what’s the plan?
First, we need to collect the remaining members of the designated group.
The only ones here are me, Tsumugi-chan, and Ouma-kun, right?
Shuichi’s still at home, so that’s five out of sixteen.
We going on our own Ultimate Hunt?
You...could say that, I suppose.
So we get the kids back together, then what? We just get back them all back to Project Gofer?
What if they don’t wanna come with us?
Then we do everything in our power to convince them to join us. We can’t let them all give up.
I promised I wouldn’t, no matter how hard things might get.
M-me too. I’m with Kaede.
And I’ll do whatever it takes to help convince everyone too.
We can also be sure that the path there wouldn’t be wide open. There’ll be a lot of winding narrow routes we have to take.
I wouldn’t usually suggest this, but maybe we should split up? We can cover more ground and we could get the kids back faster.
Hmm. We’d have to exercise extreme caution and stick together in small groups, but it might be worth considering.
I can go with them whenever necessary.
Uhh...excuse me? I think you’re all forgetting something here.
Erika, what’re you-
Kaede, shut up. First, don’t talk about us like we’re not here and we don’t have a say in the matter. I hate that.
Second, I think you’re forgetting some of the biggest problems with this whole thing. My idiot sister and her friends decided to give up their talents after they left. I don’t think they’re gonna be much use as “hopes for humanity” in the first place, but as Commons they’re even more useless.
Third, even if we do somehow get them back to that institute place, there’s the little issue that Red Rain is still running around this shithole of a country looking for them. And getting a whole bunch of ultimates and former ultimates together is just gonna draw a big target on all of our backs!
Anyone got any plans for that? Anyone at all?
Soooo....who’re you exactly?
This is my twin sister, Erika.
Erika! Dear, sweet, mouthy Erika. You make a lot of good points, I gotta say.
It’s true that Red Rain activity has only gotten worse over most of the Greater Tokyo Area, and that people are being slaughtered by the hundreds every day. Going through that with an ensemble of Ultimates would be a terrible mistake.
But I do have some ideas in mind for that.
What kind of plan?
Well, for example...
*Junko pulls out a knife*
If we killed you all, that would throw them off our trail, wouldn’t it?
What?!
K-k-kill us?!
B-boss, get behind me! I won’t let her hurt you!
Huh?! But...you-!
Upupupupupupu! Kidding! Kidding! Sorry, sorry, I just had to see the looks on your faces!
*Mukuro yanks one of her pigtails*
Oww!! Ow!
Sorry about that. My sister has a sick sense of humor.
I was only half-joking though.
Red Rain just needs to think you’re all dead. Then we get you all to the Institute to get your talents back and to Project Gofer nice and easy.
While I don’t agree with the presentation, that may be our best bet.
That’s...a lot to get done.
And only a week to do it.
I looked into the future and I saw that we all make it there safe!
Really? Y-you’re the former Ultimate Clairvoyant, right? That’s great news!
His predictions are also off 70% of the time.
And th-that’s not great news!
Still better than wrong 100% of the time!
Can we focus, please?!
Anyway, you can leave the fake death thing to me. I’ve got some ideas in mind.
I’ll trust you with that.
And what role will Nevermind-san have in this?
Two things: she and her family will be providing us with support and, if necessary, transportation to other parts of Japan if necessary.
And once the rocket has left the planet, she can take us somewhere we may be safer.
Wait, you’re not all coming with us?
...
...
...
From what we understand, the ship only has just enough room for you all.
We ain’t gonna take that from you kids.
But...but you can’t just-! Grandma! Uncle Leon!
Sweetheart, it’s okay. Really.
I’ll be happy knowing that you’re alive and okay out there.
It’s alright. I’ve had a good run. I’m happy with how my life turned out.
And if I’m not gonna make it, might as well make my last days on Earth mean somethin’.
I’ve never been afraid of death.
If it’s to protect you all, I will gladly lay down my life.
You all have a bright future ahead of you, I’m certain of it.
I’m a Yakuza boss. I ain’t scared of shit.
With Fuyuhiko, my life has been full of nothing but purpose.
I became prime minister and restored my family’s honor. That was enough for me.
I did some good shit with my life and helped build things. The best damn houses anyone could want.
And I think...I’m about ready to see my brother again.
Hell’s gonna be under new management after I show up! Someone has to show ‘em how it’s done!
There’s a lot in my life I regret. Things I can’t change or undo.
But being here, seeing you all again, it’s been the best experience I’ve had in a long time.
I still remember when I came to Hope’s Peak Academy. Back then, I was just a regular guy. I feel like the only reason I got in was thanks to the lucky student lottery.
But being there, meeting you all, the time we’ve all shared together, all the memories and experiences we’ve had along the way, I wouldn’t trade those for anything.
And most importantly, no matter what, even in the face of something like this, as long as we have hope, we never give up. That’s not just you kids, but it’s us too. We’re all the hope for mankind’s future. And I know that nothing- nothing- is gonna stop us!
*Both at the same time* Makoto, I love you so much.
Ha! Jynx!
That never gets old.
Kaede, Erika, no matter what happens, I love you both. I’ve always loved you both and I’ve always been proud of you. And I’ll be happy knowing that you’re okay up there.
We came together because we couldn’t let you all sacrifice everything when you still have so much ahead of you.
We’ve lived happy lives ourselves.
You’re really all laying down your lives for us? You hardly even know most of us.
Why would that matter?
I...
No, forget it. Never mind.
You all...
I promise, no matter what, I won’t give up anymore. And I’ll do whatever it takes to help the others. We’ll survive.
...
Kaede?
Y-yeah?
*(Kaede notices something in Erika’s eyes. Anger? Resentment? Guilt? It’s gone before she can really tell)*
This whole journey, I’ve got your back.
Just...count on me.
Thank you, Erika.
Erika....
Erik...a....
Eri...k...a...
Er...i...k...a...
E...r...i...k...a...
.........
........
.......
......
.....
....
...
..
.
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*Gasp*
*Back in the present, Kaede(?) wakes up in an empty room somewhere aboard the ship*
#danganronpa#v3#danganronpa v3#thh#danganronpa thh#sdr2#danganronpa 2#kaede akamatsu#tsumugi shirogane#kokichi ouma#chiemi shimizu#kyoko kirigiri#sayaka maizono#sakura oogami#leon kuwata#mukuro ikusaba#junko enoshima#kiyotaka ishimaru#mondo oowada#Chiaki Nanami#yasuhiro hagakure#aiko umesawa#makoto naegi#naezonosaba#starship hope#DR#ndrv3#long post
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Anansi x Female!Reader: Small Towns, Old Gods
The south is littered with old Gods. Gods who came with certain people and then were left in these small towns in America, intent and memory bind them to these tiny patches of lands. When you were a girl coming to visit your grandmother’s people here in South Carolina he was here, never seen in the same outfit twice. Always at every function from fish fries to funerals, never without a kind word or a hearty laugh. You always believed that everyone knew but never said anything.
He protected them, and they didn’t want to anger him, or maybe they respected him, at times it felt like a bit of both. But like all those small towns that crisscrossed America this one also saw it’s declined as the people and industries left. From time to time people blew in and out but overtime the stories became gentrified tales made from superstition or remixed fairy tales. Deep down, despite three kids and a shitty ex-husband, you still believe. The world can be cruel but those stories are more than balm for a soul weathered by too many disappointments. There is truth in every word, every story, and in every God chained to these lands by the ghosts of those with far too much hope.
So when you make the trip back down south to clear up any issues with your grandmother’s estate you’re not surprised to find that his little shop is still there and the lights are on. It is completely unchanged by time but still sharp as a tack. You pass the little shop and have a desire to stop, to pass on some form of history to your children but you don’t. You make it to the house safely, you give your children free reign of the town and beg them to stay together just as your grandmother had before. Your friends from too many years ago have long since moved away, creating families and stories of their own. So you walk the old familiar streets alone until you happen upon the humble old shop.
The bell chimed overhead as you step inside the shop frozen in time, it had looked the same when you were an adventurous child, a head strong teenager and even a young woman in your twenties confused about the world and what it might hold. He walked from the back of the shop sticking his head out with an infectious smile on his face.
“Now this is a rare occasion,” He announced in that magical way only he could, and then he stepped from behind the counter. “I thought I’d seen the last of you years ago. What brings you back here?”
“Grandma passed, we were getting things in order that my mama and daddy couldn’t handle on their own.”
“Eula. Yes. I heard she went peacefully.” He said and reached for your hand, there’s static in his touch, but his kind always vibrate a bit higher or so you've been told. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I appreciate it.” You say, then time stands still for a moment as he watches you with a closeness you’ve never felt, not even with your husband, or any of those fumblings in the dark you had before him. You stand before a God and try not tremble like a sapling in the wind. You fail.
“So.” He said and placed your hand slowly back to your side. He spun away, in one fluid motion with the grace of a skilled dancer, you’re still unsure how he does it. But whatever had been initiated between you two disappeared just that easily, almost as if you imagined the entire thing. “What brings you here.”
“Well grandma–”
“No, I mean my little shop. Here.” He said and headed across the room where he placed a lilac colored dress on a mannequin. He watches you as he dressed the mannequin, just out the corner of his eye.
“I brought the kids, thought a family trip would be nice.”
“It’s lovely this time of year,” He said softly, “But I don’t get the feeling that’s what brought you here.There’s a fair a few miles North of here, and a concert’s happening down in the town square, hell even that old candy shop is around, but you’re here with me.”
“Maybe I wanted to hear a story.” You say.
“Folks in hell want ice water too.” He said, perhaps it’s because he’s probably been here in this town longer than your entire family has been alive, but it seems he knows what you’re thinking before you’ve even gathered your thoughts. “Funny that the kids aren’t around.”
“I wanted them to get to know the old place.” You say and walk deeper into the shop and take a seat in one of the comfortable arm chairs.
“Let me tell you a story.” He said while sewing white buttons on the dress. You’re always amazed at how fast he moves without missing a beat, “Once upon a time before man ruled there was a Goddess who married a Boy-God, she left her home, traveling across the sea to a new land. The land was beautiful, her new citizens were nice but at night she wept for her land and her own people.”
“And what’s supposed to be the moral to that story.” You say.
“It wasn’t that her people were that much different different from the Boy-God’s, but she was homesick and when she left her world went on. It changed, and maybe she wanted something familiar to go back to.”
“Are you implying I came here for you? Why am I not surprised that you somehow think my world revolves around you?” You ask, but have you not had him on your mind? You knew that through everything that changed he would be there, and here he is, the unchanging and steady trickster. God of Chaos to some and God of stories to others. His name rest on the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare utter it.
“Marriage didn’t work out to that boy from where the fuck ever, kids are growing up, and maybe you’re getting older and getting certain ideas in your head.”
“About?” You question, you try to be playful but he is a trickster. You can never outwit him, he’s been at this longer than you’ve been alive.
“About what happens after. And your white Jesus and his promises just ain’t cutting it anymore.” He said, you watch as he moves about the shop bringing it life. A light here, a strip of fabric moves by itself there while he sketches on an aged legal pad. “So you came home like everybody else does eventually, looking for something they’ll never find again, but you’re not like everybody else. You’re special.”
“How so?” You ask, part of it is that you’ve spent half of your life being sold snake oil wrapped in bullshit from men like him, and then the other half is that you know he’s no man. A God. You itch to call forth his name, raise his power, but you remember what your grandmother told you; ‘Names have power, girl. Don’t let the old Gods use you unless you sure you can handle what they wanna give you, child.’
“You believe.” He said and came to stand in front of you, even as he spoke he’s giving you that look from before. A God stood before you who looks at you and sees you’re enough despite what the rest of the world said, your grandmother’s words and warnings fade from memory. “Those stories they told you about me, about what I might do, how I might get myself out of situations and save my people, you still believe. You came back because you believe, and I’m flattered.”
“So you did all of this to pat yourself on the back?” You ask, now he’s close enough to touch when he’s always seemed so untouchable your entire life, he always seemed larger than life but he’s here and focused solely on you. He hunches over and places his hands on the arm rests of the chair, and you don’t dare to look away from him. You are no longer just a face in the crowd, and here you are, old enough to understand all these feelings and know you’re meddling with something bigger than you.
“Nonsense,” He said, “You’ve done the hard work; through two recessions, a marriage to a man who didn’t deserve you and made you put your career on the back burner, three adorable kids who will eventually leave you and make their way into the world, you still believe when you should be hopeless.”
“But there’s always hope.” You say before you can stop yourself and he smirks, it’s devilish and charming, then he kisses you, a soft generous kiss that you’ve apparently been waiting for your entire life. Men have given you heated looks, but not Gods, you’re walking into an entirely different arena this time and you’re not sure if you’re prepared.
“That’s what I like to hear, there might be hope for this town yet.” He said between tender pecks. And as if it was just a trick of the lights you jump awake suddenly, sitting in an aged but abandoned shop. The windows are broken, the walls smashed in, the door is smashed to bits and graffiti is everywhere but in the corner of the room you see it.
A lilac dress on an aged mannequin is just the smallest amount of proof you’re not losing your mind and hallucinated this entire thing. You know he’s there somewhere, and you rise from the chair, it seems to be the only thing in tact in the entire store and grab the dress before leaving. You don’t know what the rest of this visit might hold but hope wells up inside of you.
As you leave, walking through the streets of this old town his name flows freely from your lips.
Anansi.
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∆Milk and Honey∆ Tom Hiddleston x Black! Female Reader •PART 1/?•
TWHiddleston > Y/N-St. John413
Dear Ms. St. John,
I had the greatest pleasure of meeting your agent last night in London a couple of weeks back. He tracked down my publicist and said you had an amazing script I just had to read. I know I am about a month late and I give you my sincerest apology.
As you may know, I am looking for a screenwriter for my first movie I'm going to direct and produce. Sadly the search has come to an end because I already found one. Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that you'll be stuck with me. I have chosen your script for my first movie.
Hopefully, you'll give me the honor of turning your script into a million dollar movie. If you could email me back as soon as possible, that would be very much appreciated.
Yours truly,
Tom
Y/N-St.John413 > TWHiddleston
Mr. Hiddleston,
You have no idea how excited I am! I couldn't be any happier to receive your email. It would be my honor to have you produce and direct my script.
I have been waiting for my big break and its finally here. Thank you so much for even considering reading it.
I'm so excited to be working with you.
TWHiddleston>Y/N-St.John413
Ms. St. John,
I am very excited to be working with you too. Again, your script was absolutely brilliant. I'd love to chat more about it when we meet in person. I ask you to keep a lock and key around this whole operation. I don't want the public to jinx it before it has already begun.
To keep from checking emails all the time, I'll leave my publicist number below. I'd like to see when is the earliest flight I can get you to London. Don't worry about cost I'll fly you out here and buy you a hotel room for however long you need it.
Only the best for my new screenwriter!
Hope to see you soon,
Tom
And here you were. Outside his house. His house! Tom freaking Hiddleston's house! You didn't know if you were under dressed or over dresses. You decided to wear one of your suits. Pam said the black and white one looked great. Hopefully, it was enough to impress Tom.
"Y/N?" Ask Luke, Tom's publicist. You look in his direction and see your hand is shaking. "You've been standing at the curb for over ten minutes."
"I'm sorry, Luke." You Said rubbing your lips together. "I uh-well-you see I'm just-erm-"
"It's ok. Tom isn't a monster. He won't bite." Look said making you giggle and the train of nerves disappear.
"Thank you. I ain't never been this nervous before."
"Don't think about the nerves, ok? Just walk in and...be you. Be the girl-woman from Mayfield, Alabama who wrote that script."
"Right. For Mayfield..."
"I would go in with you, but I have a meeting. Break a leg." Luke gets back in the limo and your feet start heading towards the front door.
Pushing your glasses up on your nose, you knock hesitantly and see the doorknob rattle. "I'm coming, I'm coming." Says a voice behind the door. Stepping back and squeezing the strap of your crossbody bag. When the door swings open, you were greeted by a woman holding a broom.
"Hi."
"Oh!"
"Sorry, ma'am-"
"You must be Tom's guests. Come in, come in." She rushes you through the door with a hand on your back. "I was just in the middle of sweeping. Tom is upstairs taking a shower, but you can go on into his office." She told you pointing down the hall, behind the staircase. "Its the one with the blue curtains. He'll be with you shortly."
"Thank you." You say, but see shes already off sweeping. Turning back around, your heels click against the hardwood floor and you push the doors open and quickly gasp. "Sweet mother of Jesus." You whisper. "This ain't no office." You chuckle.
When you first walked in there was a giant living room with nice clean, cream-colored couches and blue curtains. It looked wide, but the couches looked lonely. Not a crease or a shoe print in them. But standing here in the office...Remarkable.
"I've never seen so many books." You whisper starting to pull some off the shelves. Tom had every book of Game Of Thrones. Even the very first one!
You fingers cross one on the shelf and it was one of your favorites. The Iliad. Without hesitating, you snatch it off the shelf and flip the pages. You loved the Iliad. It was the start of the great Trojan War. What wasn't there to love.
"Its a good read."
Your hands lift and the book goes flying in the air. "Oh!" You shout as your heart beat quickly. Standing a couple feet away from you, leaning on the door was Tom Hiddleston.
Tom freaking Hiddleston. A nervous lump kept you from breathing as he rushed to you. His hand on the small of your back as you stared at him wide-eyed, trying to find a way to catch your breath.
"Gee, I'm terribly sorry." He chuckles giving you a friendly smile. "I did not mean to scare you. Are you alright."
"You scared the living crap out of me." You mutter reaching for the book and holding it out to him. "I'm sorry about the book. I didn't-"
"Nonsense. It was my fault." He interrupts and your heart slowed down a bit, mostly because he was just smiling and talking in a calm voice. And the fact that he was wearing a rather clingy sweater and the traces of his abs looked fantastic
"Its nice to meet you Mr. Hiddleston. You have no idea how much...how much working for you means to me." He shakes your hand and it was warm, except for the little water dripping off his hair that landed on your hand.
"Tom, please. And we are working together. A producer/Director need to be on the same page as the writer. I have so many questions for you Ms. St.-"
"Y/N. You can call me Y/N."
"Y/N." He nods "I like that name."
Looking down you thank him and then he continues, "Y/N, I have so many questions about your script. I read it three or four times. Is it ok if I ask them?"
"Sure. Fire away." You answer pushing up your glasses as he leads you to the couch. You scooted over expecting Tom to sit next to you but he sat across from you on the other couch.
"So Milk and Honey is obviously set in the 1920s, right. Ok, I guess my first question is why the 1920s?"
"Personally it's my favorite era. The fashion and crime it was all just really close to home. Mayfield was found in the 1920s by a mobster looking for a place to start his drug trade. From Mayfield he went all over the US, shipping his drugs."
"Wow! That's very interesting."
"I know its not a great founding story-"
"No its better. Most of the founding stories center around crops. Mayfield sounds amazing."
"We don't sell drugs anymore." You laugh "We are now known for our pineapples. We have pineapple fields everywhere in Mayfield. Best in the US if I do say so myself."
"Then I better try one then."
You both laugh again and you can't help but feel giddy because right across from you was Tom Hiddleston. Talking to you well, you talk to him like you had known each other for years.
"So, Warren and Celeste. I love how you wrote their chemistry. I could feel it coming off the paper. It was so real. They say the writer leaves a bit of themselves in their story. Forgive me for being so front but, did you base it off you?"
He went straight for it. What should I say? The truth! Duh.
"In a way I did. My growing up wasn't the best. My ma gave me up when I was five to her grandmother, my great grandma and I was raised by her. I thought bringing in a character who felt lonely like I did would help their growth. But I mostly based it off my Gran. She was a very good singer and not all the time she was allowed to sing in public. They'd make her use the back door to get into places and she'd sing for not even a quarter for what the stars in Hollywood get paid for nowadays."
"I think thats what I liked most about your script." Said Tom and he was studying your face. "It felt real. I want the film to feel real and for people to feel connected. You can show anything on a screen but it takes one hell of an actor to put that much passion to turn a script into a movie."
You smile trying to break eye contact with his heavenly blue eyes. He was being very poetic and it made your heartburn with excitement.
"Tea time!" Said a voice, rolling in a tray of tea. "Early Grey for you, Tom and I chosen green tea for our guest."
"Thank you, Mrs. Gaynes." Said Tom and she slid her way out of the office. "Y/N, do you drink tea?"
"Does sweet tea count?" You ask and then nod your head quickly, so he knew you were joking. "I do. Call me weird but Ginger tea is my favorite."
"Ginger!" He exclaimed as if he didn't believe you. "Points for you." Tom winked
Drinking tea and eating finger sandwiches gave you and Tom both the opportunity to ask him questions and make small chit chat. You didn't realize how long you'd been sitting in his office talking.
You learned Tom always wanted to be behind the camera.
"I always liked the idea of being in charge. Being the man behind the camera and seeing my name on something I worked hard on."
"A man in charge." You smirk taking a sip of tea. "Sounds bossy. In a good way, I mean."
"Y/N, I want you to meet the rest of the team. I'm hosting a bit of a get-together and I'd really like you to meet all the sponsors.''
"Sounds great. What's the dress attire? I don't wanna be overdressed like I am today."
"Overdressed? Not at all. You look great. Come as you are." He tells you and you smile at him.
British charm...how charming!
"As much as I enjoyed talking to you," his eyes scan his phone. "I have another meeting." Tom stands and puts his teacup down.
"Right. I had better get back to the hotel anyway. I have to unpack and call my folks back home to tell them I'm still alive."
"I'll see you tomorrow then." He extends his hand for you to take and you slide your hand into his. "Do you have a ride back to the hotel?"
"No, but I can walk. Luke didn't tell me how close the hotel was to your house."
"Walking? The weather changes at night. Allow me to drive you."
"Really, you don't have too. I don't want you to be late for your meeting."
"Let me drive you, Y/N. My mum wouldn't be very happy if she found out I had the opportunity to drive a lady home and didn't do it."
"Your momma raised you right." You told him
Instead of letting go of your hand, he slipped it into his arm, escorting you to the front door. You felt your face get hot and you couldn't stop smiling at the ground. Tom walked you to the car and held open the door for you.
"Thank you."
A couple minutes later you are outside the hotel and Tom rushes to open the door for you. "Shall I walk you up?"
"No. You did quite enough already by buying me a plane ticket here. I think you should get going. It was nice to finally meet you in person."
"You too. Goodnight, Y/N."
"Goodnight Tom." You wave heading to open the door to the lobby.
Tom Hiddleston was no southern gentleman. He was a British gentleman. So the tingly, warm feeling growing in your stomach was nothing. Nothing at all.
He was like that to everyone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list: @tell-me-a-poem @thatweirdwalangpake @schizonephilim @hisparadox @nirvanaslovechild @empressoftheundergroundsun @inlovewith3 @smartiedork @naughtybaroness30 @fanfictionaffair @nobodynobodynobodynob @gerli49 @spookytyphoonbouquetsblog @angelicvixenn @wtficantfindausernam
#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston x you#tom hiddelson#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston imagine#tom hiddleston x black! reader#fanfiction#tom fanfic#fangirls#fangirl#milk and honey#tom x black! reader#black fangirl fanfic#romance#scandle
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FC5 Week-Day 5
In which Layla notices an eyesore and gets some interesting history about her new community...
Warnings: implied violence, nothing of note
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“Huh...” was all Layla could really say as she leaned against the doorway and looked out towards the mountains. When she had first arrived, under a cloud of family tragedy and the combined anxieties and hopes of moving, she had only taken in a small part of the natural beauty of Hope County. Being a native Montanan and having taken many trips into the wilderness also desensitized Layla to her surroundings, so it was only on her third day after moving in with her sister and nieces that she noticed the sign.
“Hi, Aunt Layla! Whatcha’ lookin’ at?”
Layla turned to smile at her nieces, Hazel and Fern coming towards her. She was happy to see Hazel walking about, her injured arm in a sling, but both girls looking clear-eyed and bright even after the recent badness. Hazel had been the one to address her, her younger sister looking at Layla with a curious glance and head tilted in wonder.
“Oh, well, that. You guys know what that eyesore is all about?” Layla asked, jabbing her thumb outwards and looking back at it with a skeptical look.
She saw Hazel and Fern’s looks turn into disgust, Hazel’s eyes rolling so far into skull Layla was afraid they would be lost while Fern sighed.
“Ah, well, it’s a giant “YES” sign, for one thing...” Fern said. Hazel then interrupted bluntly, “Aunt Layla’s not stupid, Fern, she can read.”
“It’s okay, Hazel, it’s good to see that it is a “YES” sign. What’s it for?”
The girls looked at each other before Fern said, “Mom said it’s Mr. Seed’s type of preaching. The Power of Yes. It’s for the purpose of gathering new followers.”
“It’s sooo stupid! Like, he takes motivational speaking way too far!” Hazel added. “He even has dumb billboards all over the county. Nice way to show you have money to throw around when you’re not busy being a greedy lawyer, a-hole!”
“Whoa, whoa, now I don’t have to unpack all of that, kiddos! Who’s “Mr. Seed” and why is he going around talking about “yes” so enthusiastically?” Layla said. “That doesn’t even sound like a real name, why am I only learning of this now?!”
Fern cleared her throat and Hazel fell quiet, though she gave an eye-roll at Fern’s excitement to explain. “Well, his name is John Seed. He’s part of these group called Eden’s Gate—they’re like Pastor Jerome’s church, but they follow their own doctrine, one that Mom thinks is not God’s true voice—and they’ve been here for a while. Mom tells us they’ve been here since I was maybe five, or six. They’ve really grown bigger and louder really recently, but John’s the loudest. Did you see the boards with his face on it while you were driving here?”
“I didn’t really notice. Was too busy worrying about Clover barfing in the car and having Grandma and Gramps micro-managing the move,” Layla said, a warm smile as she saw the girls chuckle. Always good to see them happy. If that poor excuse for a father was still alive, I’d kill him myself for ever hurting them.
“Well, we’ll point some of them out to you next time we’re on a drive,” Hazel said. “There’s some with weird symbols and phrases, but most here in the valley has John’s dumb smug face on it, talkin’ about how “we’ll love you and we’ll take you.” Good to know creeps are advertising their plans to kidnap people.”
“Anyways,” Fern said, her voice rising over Hazel’s, “John Seed is the “face” I guess you could say of this Project. His brother, Joseph, is the leader, but John handles all the finances. He’s kinda handsome.” Fern blushed a bit and rubbed the back of her head with a small giggle. “He’s also wealthy, too. If it wasn’t for Mom saying Eden’s Gate was bad, I’d say he’s like a prince.”
Hazel made a gag noise, but didn’t say anything. Layla said as her brows furrowed, “Your mom never talked about these crazies before, and she knows how much I love ragging on crazies like this. Why does she think they’re bad?”
The girls went quiet, with Fern shifting in her chair and looking away while Hazel bit her lip and narrowed her eyes. Hazel then spoke up.
“We always went to Pastor Jerome’s church, but it changed when Da-that bastard started going to the Seed’s services and talkin’ about how—how great they were, and how “The Collapse” was real, that Joseph was the only righteous voice.” Layla noticed how Hazel’s good hand clenched and unclenched at her side. The girl then spoke loudly, startling the two, “They’re crazy! They’re not good Christians like Pastor Jerome or Mom! Mom became frightened at even the drop of their name when she got pregnant with Todd, and you know she’s not scared of nothin’! That bastard wasn’t the nicest, but he became downright looney and obsessed with Eden’s Gate, even ready to sell our home to John. And I hear things in town. About John buyin’ up properties, weapons being brought in, weird shit goin’ on in the Whitetails and to the east, people disappearing when they make Eden’s Gate mad. They even have a statute of that lyin’ prophet of theirs nearly complete out in the Henbane!”
“Wha—? A statue?! That can’t be legal!” Layla sputtered. What had I gotten into by moving here...and what has Tess not been telling me?
“They can pretty much get away with anything these days. Poor Mayor Minkler is cowed by these people and Sheriff Whitehorse has been overwhelmed by people quitting or...“leaving,” one might say,” Fern said. She then shivered. “Some of the members came to one of Pastor Jerome’s services. They stood outside and shouted how Jerome was a false shepherd, that the Collapse was coming, and the Father was the only path to salvation. Dad and a few others walked out to join them...Mom was very upset with him after that.”
“Don’t call him “dad,” Fern!” Hazel snapped, but softened up. “He wasn’t our “dad” for a long time, and he sure ain’t now after what he did. The fight, y’know, the one where he...he shot us and took Todd away and killed himself...it was about Eden’s Gate,” Hazel said, her voice low. The girls looked ready to cry and Hazel wanted to scream. “Eden’s Gate are evil. I just...get bad feelings from them, even if they had nothin’ to do with my family. They’re bad news.”
Layla then came to the girls and hugged them, rubbing their arms and a kind smile on her face. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. These people sound like every doomsday cult I’ve studied, but guess what?”
After a pause with her nieces who looked confused, Layla said with a sly smirk, “Your badass Aunt Layla is going to be a deputy with the Sheriff’s Department, and you know I don’t let any shit slide when it comes to BS, right?”
“Hell yeah!” “Language, Hazel, but you’re right, you are tough, Aunt Layla.”
“So, if John of Joseph, or any other Seed tries to come around and harass you or Tess, I’ll go and kick their loony-tune as—butts, alongside Clover, right Clover?” Layla’s dog lifted her eyes towards the trio, but she didn’t leave the couch as she let out a small gruff. “Darn straight! No one will mess with my family or their friends, so there’s no need to be afraid anymore, okay?”
Weak smiles returned to the girls’ faces as they looked a bit calmer. Layla then stood up and said, “Tell you what? We’ll go see your mom at the hospital, go to whatever favorite restaurant you like, and take some eggs along to hit any Johnny Appleseed billboards we see. Sound fun?”
“Oh my gosh, yes!!” Hazel said. “Fern, you up for it?”
“Yeah. Will you be okay?” Fern asked. Hazel let out a small huff and flicked her good hand.
“Pfft, I’m fine! I bet I can throw better with my one hand than you girls!”
“Oh, we’ll see about that, young lady!” Layla scoffed as the girls laughed and went to prepare. Before she walked off, Layla gave one last glance at the large white “YES” sign. Unease settled into her stomach, but she shoved the bad thoughts away for happier times with her nieces, to keep things good after all that’s happened to them.
She did allow one snide thought: I wish I had a grenade launcher to shoot that shit down. That would be awesome.
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life update stuff under the cut
this year has been such a doozy so far. i feel like each year gets steadily more and more difficult and sometimes i fall into the depression pit of “nothing matters, what is the point in literally anything”
i’ve been sleeping a lot lately because doing anything takes too much effort. i’m on meds, and i do feel better versus when i wasn’t on them for a while, but i like. don’t know what my problem is? idk if it’s the adhd acting up and not letting me focus on anything/making me bored all the time because i can’t focus on anything. my anxiety hasn’t been too much of a problem lately, not since a few months ago when i had that full-blown panic attack at work. and i keep digging my heels in about going to the doctor because my health insurance plan doesn’t have co-pays, just a yearly deductible, so like...my last doctor visit, which was just a med check, cost me almost $200 and i’m just like????? what the fuck, i can’t afford to go to the doctor to address issues i’m pretty positive i have (example, i’m pretty fuckin’ positive i have some sort of thyroid issue because it runs in my family and affected my yia yia (mom’s side) and my mom currently, both pretty severely) and then i also wanna go to therapy again because Trauma(TM) and i’m noticing a lot of ways past trauma is affecting my daily life and i just
everything is so expensive so i just sleep and hope i’ll feel better when i wake up
i also dove a lot into my hyperfixations over the last few months to cope with some shit and at the end of the day, it doesn’t do anything to fix the problem. it’s just pointless escapism.
my cat was really sick at the beginning of this month and had to be hospitalized, so i had to open a new line of credit to pay for her hospitalization. i made the decision to do so because she had pancreatitis and it was completely curable, and plus my cat is young enough (she’s 11 this year) and has been healthy for the majority of her life and to me, it was worth it to fork over a bunch of money to make sure she stayed alive because she still has a lot of youth in her and she’s got a lot of years left, and the vet agreed. so, she got much better but the vet did find that presea has bladder stones (which didn’t surprise me all that much tbh, she had some urinary problems a few years ago due to stress of living with two dogs at the time) so we had to switch her diet to a special prescription urinary diet (which she’ll have to be on for the rest of her life and is pretty expensive, but still worth it to me) in the hopes that the food will help dissolve the stones. if they don’t dissolve, though, she will have to have surgery and i don’t even want to think about how much that is going to cost. but, again, it’s worth it to me to have her around for many more years because without her, i don’t know what i’d do. i literally don’t.
uh, what else? i had a new baby cousin born last month, which is cool. his name is alton and i’m hoping to visit my family in ohio sometime this year so i can meet all the new babies that have been born in the last five years and also bring my boyfriend to meet my extended family. my cousin was going to be getting married in september and that was when we were gonna go, but after we found out my aunt (mom of said cousin) has a rare form of breast cancer, my cousin decided to put the wedding on hold. i still think i wanna go back and visit since i already have the vacation time for when the wedding would have been. this particular aunt is definitely the one i’m closest to out of my entire extended family (my dad is one of nine kids) and i haven’t seen her in a few years, so it’s something i really want to do.
i may end up going back sooner than september, though, depending on if my grandma passes away before then. she has dementia and it’s gotten to the point where she can’t swallow anymore, and because of that whenever she tried to eat, a bunch of fluid got into her lungs and she caught pneumonia and ended up in the hospital, and she’s now on a feeding tube as of the last update i heard from my dad and i just. i feel bad but also my grandma was nothing but abusive to everyone in her family--my dad, his brothers and sisters, my cousins, me, my sister, my mom, etc.--and i feel no closeness to her whatsoever so like, i almost feel like i don’t care if she dies or not? but i’m still gonna go back for the funeral and such when she does go because it’s important to me to be with my family. especially because i never see them because i live across the country from them.
some good stuff, uh, my boyfriend got a new job that he starts on april 1st. it’s a full-time gig and he’ll be making more money than me so hopefully that will help as far as our plans to move in together next year (holy fuck i can’t believe i’m in that point in a relationship, wtf). marriage has been lightly in the talks as well and i’m like awsiuhjkdsagflkdshl wtf
my job sucks but i’m applying for other jobs here and there. it’s possible that i’m looking at a promotion in the next six months at my current job so i’m kiiiiiiiinda waiting to see what happens with that, but also i’m applying for positions elsewhere to see if i get any bites. nothing so far, but the situation isn’t dire so it’s whatevs. i’m considering picking up a second job again, especially if presea needs surgery.
my birthday is in nine days (march 31st) and i just hope to have a good and relaxing day
uhhh anyway that’s it for now, i think. i haven’t been super active on here lately and i miss it, so i’m gonna try and be around more. i also want to keep working on my fanfics and i’m gonna be pulling out some of my old plays and fixing those up because i know of a group in denver that does live readings of plays by local playwrights and i think that might be fun to try, if anything. i also need to work on sending some of my poems and short stories out to like lit journals/magazines and such this year and hope i get at least one thing published. i ain’t aiming for the stars, here, just something to get me started, y’know?
if you made it here to the end, thanks for reading. <3
#Ally's personal life#abuse mention#death mention#there's a lot of stuff in here guys so i don't blame any of you if you don't read this post lmao
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What I’ve Been Reading #2
Hey People of Earth!
I recently started a new series on this blog (titled above), where I reflect on the last few books I’ve read. I’m doing this mostly to keep myself accountable because I’m notoriously bad at committing myself to reading. So far, reading has been far greater than it’s been in the past--I’m definitely getting into the rhythm of things. I read some amaaaazing books this time around (since approx. November), and these are them:
1. The Darkest Legacy by Alexandra Bracken
This is book four in The Darkest Minds series, and was just recently released (last summer). Whilst I’ve drifted from YA in the last few years, this series was such a huge favourite of mine when I was younger, and I thought I’d give this book a go for nostalgia’s sake. Also, I truly admire Alex as an author, and wanted to support her! Here’s the summary:
Five years after the destruction of the so-called rehabilitation camps that imprisoned her and countless other Psi kids, seventeen-year-old Suzume "Zu" Kimura has assumed the role of spokesperson for the interim government, fighting for the rights of Psi kids against a growing tide of misinformation and prejudice. But when she is accused of committing a horrifying act, she is forced to go on the run once more in order to stay alive. Determined to clear her name, Zu finds herself in an uncomfortable alliance with Roman and Priyanka, two mysterious Psi who could either help her prove her innocence or betray her before she gets the chance. But as they travel in search of safety and answers, and Zu grows closer to the people she knows she shouldn't trust, they uncover even darker things roiling beneath the veneer of the country's recovery. With her future-and the future of all Psi-on the line, Zu must use her powerful voice to fight back against forces that seek to drive the Psi into the shadows and save the friends who were once her protectors.
What drew me to it: Like I mentioned, its mother series was a mega favourite of mine in grade 8, and whilst I’ve grown out of YA, I was curious to see where the story went, five years in the future. I read about 60% of it on page, and listened to the rest on and of over the course of a few months. I started it in August, and finished it on New Year’s Eve. Not the fault of the book, that’s totally me being Very Bad at commitment. I’ve really enjoyed Alex’s novels in audiobook format, and this one was no exception (I think, if I were to read it again, I’d listen to the audiobook: it’s like listening to a television show!)
My rating: 3/5
Why: This is really due to the fact that I no longer am very interested in YA. In all truths, I got into YA early, and got out of it even earlier because apparently I am a sixty year old woman?? I started my journey with YA in grade seven, and it ended around the end of grade eight. After that, I had trouble finding YA books I could enjoy/relate to, not that the books were any less, or bad because of this, but because I was just an injustice to them (I’ve always been a strange reader). This is why I don’t really read YA anymore because I feel like I rate them unfairly because I’m not super big on the category anymore. It just (rightfully) didn’t give me what I’m most currently interested in in books (horrible people; horrible relationships; morally grey protagonists), because of course the category is different to what I read now! With that said, I think, if I’d read this book in my Peak YA Moment (grade 7-8), I’d definitely have given it a 5 star rating. It was super entertaining and funny and nostalgic, and made me miss a series so pivotal in my writing journey. If you love YA, and this series, I think this book is definitely worth the read! That was a thiccccc tangent.
2. Past Lives, Future Bodies by Kristin Chang
This is a really quick poetry collection (that I spoiler: looooved). This is the summary:
PAST LIVES, FUTURE BODIES is a knife-sharp and nimble examination of migration, motherhood, and the malignant legacies of racism. In this collection, family forms both a unit of survival and a framework for history, agency, and recovery. Chang undertakes a visceral exploration of the historical and unfolding paths of lineage and what it means to haunt body and country. These poems traverse not only the circularity of trauma but the promise of regeneration—what grows from violence and hatches from healing—as Chang embodies each of her ghosts and invites the specter to speak.
What drew me to it: @shaelinwrites rec’d it to me on my last update, and I fell in love with the premise. I’m *cheap* so was very excited to be gifted it by my Grandma for Christmas. (I actually read it on Christmas!)
My rating: 5/5
Why: Kristin Chang is literally so skilled with her use of the line break? I was shook? This is my second collection of poetry that I’ve read, following (no shade) Rupi Kaur’s The Sun and Her Flowers, which, I felt kinda made the line break feel gimmicky? So this collection definitely reinvented it for me. Her poems are so punchy, and thoughtful, and you can truly feel the experience built into the backbone of every one of them. When I panic wrote some poetry for my writing class, I used it as comfort reference and was amazed at how deliberate she is with her words. I also found so much of its commentary on race so relatable. It’s definitely a collection I’ll keep re-reading. I’d recommend this if, like me, you’re just starting out in poetry--a perfect way to acclimate yourself to a new form!
3. God of Shadows by Lorna Crozier
*Rachel vigorously trying to diversify her reading.* The summary:
The poet Lorna Crozier has always been brilliant at fusing the ordinary with the other-worldly in strange and surprising ways. Now the Governor General's Literary Award-winning author of Inventing the Hawk returns with God of Shadows, a wryly wise book that offers a polytheistic gallery of the gods we never knew existed and didn't know we needed. To read these poems is to be ready to offer your own prayers to the god of shadows, the god of quirks, and the god of vacant houses. Sing new votive hymns to the gods of horses, birds, cats, rats, and insects. And give thanks at the altars of the gods of doubt, guilt, and forgetting. What life-affirming questions have these deities come to ask? Perhaps it is simply this: How can poems be at once so profound, original and lively, and also so much fun?
What drew me to it: At this point I’m just stalking @shaelinwrites’ Goodreads because her reading taste is on pointttt. I’ve also been dying to read more poetry, and branch out into different forms of writing, so I can be a little *prepared* for school, so I thought I’d take a peek at this collection.
My rating: 5/5
Why: This collection is so beautiful! I read it super quickly, and fell in love with the concept immediately. I think Crozier explored such unique ideas with super unique language, and I live for it. This collection gave me perspective on ‘gods’ I’d never even thought about. I’d definitely recommend it if you’re looking into reading some prose poetry!
4. The Immortalists by Chloe Benjamin
I finished this book today, and now have trust issues and feel like I’m in a constant state of wanting to cry. Here’s the summary:
If you knew the date of your death, how would you live your life?
It's 1969 in New York City's Lower East Side, and word has spread of the arrival of a mystical woman, a traveling psychic who claims to be able to tell anyone the day they will die. The Gold children—four adolescents on the cusp of self-awareness—sneak out to hear their fortunes.
The prophecies inform their next five decades. Golden-boy Simon escapes to the West Coast, searching for love in '80s San Francisco; dreamy Klara becomes a Las Vegas magician, obsessed with blurring reality and fantasy; eldest son Daniel seeks security as an army doctor post-9/11; and bookish Varya throws herself into longevity research, where she tests the boundary between science and immortality.
A sweeping novel of remarkable ambition and depth, The Immortalists probes the line between destiny and choice, reality and illusion, this world and the next. It is a deeply moving testament to the power of story, the nature of belief, and the unrelenting pull of familial bonds.
What drew me to it: I actually don’t know?? I put it on hold at my library in October, and was loaned it in January (looooong waitlist). So I can’t remember why I wanted to read it, probably because 1969 was in the premise lmao. I actually completely forgot about placing a hold on it because it’d been two months, so by the time I got the email notification, I’d forgotten what it was about. Oftentimes, I’m Bad, and leave my loans for weeks, forgetting about them, but I was intrigued by seeing I’d received this loan because I couldn’t remember placing it/why I placed it. I quickly re-read the summary, and immediately started reading because it reminded me a lot of the Haunting of Hill House sibling dynamic, and I was on board!
My rating: 5/5 stars soaked in all my tears
Why: This book is SO good, I literally can’t think about it too much because I will cry, lol. I’m not one to get emotional over books, but this book touched me in a place I didn’t know existed?? Like I didn’t know I had emotions before reading this book?? Apparently I do?? It also left me feeling stunned with a whole bucket of life lessons, and similarly to getting emotional, I’m not a reader to really take away a whole new worldview after reading something, but this book was like NOPE, here’s some THOUGHTS. I think I might’ve loved it so much because the four siblings it follows remind me a lot of my siblings (tag yourself I’m Klara, @sarahkelsiwrites is Varya). I too am a sibling of four with a similar composition to the novel’s (two boys, two girls), so the actual heartbreak of realizing that one day, there ain’t always gonna be four of us struck me so hard I was not prepared?? The characters are BEAUTIFUL, and my heart aches so much after finishing this, I almost don’t know what to do with myself... If you liked the sibling dynamic in the Haunting of Hill House (me!!), you’ll probably dig this book. Benjamin’s writing is also gorgeous; straightforward, but so detailed and lush at the same time. I don’t often see books in third present, so this was a delight for me to read. Also: I’m no expert on any of the topics in this book, but to me, a Fool, this book felt so well researched? This isn’t something I ever notice in books, but it surprisingly really added to the reading experience.
TL;DR: I’m literally an emotional wreck because of this book and have a whole new perspective on life, if you too want to be an emotional wreck, defs join in on the fUN.
So that’s it for this reading update! All of these books in this update were wonderful! Making me antsy to read more for sure! I’m currently attempting to read more short story collections, so if anyone has recs, hit me up! ‘Scuse me while I go sob!
--Rachel
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