#next week will be quite cold and rainy.. i hope i wont fall into a sad mood

[hanabeeri]

another week has passed uwaaah 早いね.. its a good practice though to sit down and to really think about what happened. at least to me because i have a memory worse than a fruit fly i believe 🥹 the week isnt over and i still have sunday ahead of me, but i dont think anything major or big will happen tomorrow. i may facetime my friends to talk about a book we're reading together though, so theres that 🧸💕

what happened this week? >i turned in my japanese essay (i will rewrite it until next week though... because i couldn't come up with any culture shock i experienced and picked the one i found in an old chat with a friend. but its a topic, way too silly, to use as a basis for our oral presentation in a month) >i started reading a good girls guide to murder with my friends! i read up until chapter 5. i already have some critiques, my friends and i talked about it briefly, and i do see that i may have been to critical. i wasn't aware it was a novel for a younger audience, but i can see it now 🥹 ill keep it in mind for the overall review >on wednesday i left university earlier so i could surprise a friend together with my other friends! she moved to a new place and we prepared a small gift for her and her boyfriend for their new home. we coordinated the visit with her boyfriend so she wouldnt notice anything and it worked! she was so overwhelmed at first, but later on she was really happy 🩷💕🧸 >i met a friend two times that i haven't seen in a long time. we planned on painting together, but i ended up doodling album covers that came up on spotify instead (does that count as an activity? www can you tell that nothing much has happened?) >on thursday i finally caught up on my japanese syntax classes and today i want to do the new grammar for next weeks classes. which reminds me... i still need to ask a friend from uni to explain 'quasiphrasen' to me. i only have like two notes jotted down from last semester but i dont think i really grasped the difference between that and a proper phrase >oh and i finished fight club! good book :)) the first half was okay, you can easily breeze through it without noticing, it picks up in its second half. thats when it got really interesting! >i bought both of my parents flowers and a card!! unfortunately i forgot that fathers day was on thursday, so im giving both my papa and mama flowers today - since its mothers day tomorrow

not exactly a productive week i would say, but its okay <3 im not here to compete or do things fast, im doing things for the sake of doing them and because they make me happy 🧸💕💞🩷 a more detailed and jucier version of my week is written inside my physical diary, but that is something i doubt ill ever share with anyone. maybe a future lover 🥹💞🌸

i think for next week i would like to set a goal. nothing too big, i just want to read up on ableism. to learn its forms and how its executed in daily life. so i can learn and grow and be better to people who deserve more than what they're currently given in life. read the bible some more and find peace. have i ever talked about a few weeks ago when i felt so miserable i had the wish to die again? i prayed to God in that moment and i felt so warm afterwards. like He put His gentle hand over my heart to give me the comfort i sought.

pretty decorations by huramuna and sunfoxpixels

[333dolans]

If By Chance Pt. 2 // E.D

Part 1

Summary: It’s been 2 years since she’d last seen him, what would happen if by chance they were to meet once more?

Sorry for being gone for so long! Ive been super busy and just haven’t had any time to write. I’ll hopefully post a bit more regularly this year! I love you all mwah!!🥰

4:35pm, Great.

It was the first time she would be seeing Gray in what felt like eternity and she was already late, Classic Rory. In her defence, he had agreed to pick her up but a meeting running over later than expected meant she was left to fend for herself. The fact that she didn’t know her way around LA yet paired along with her general lack of time management left her here, outside of the adorable, little cafe Gray had sent her the address for.

She felt the explosion of butterflies erupt within her stomach at the sight of his car and pulled in next to it. She took a moment to compose her thoughts that seemed to be racing along with her heart. Taking a final deep breath, she climbed out from her car and made a start towards the cafe door.

From the very moment she laid her eyes on his tall figure, nothing could of slowed the pace she ran towards him. She called out his name and as he glanced up from his phone, the widest smile took over his face. Opening up his arms just in time, he caught her in his warm embrace. It felt good to be home.

“I missed you so much.” He sighed contently, spinning her around one more time before placing her body back firmly on the ground.

“Missed you more Grapeson.” She replied with a smirk.

“Wow... that’s gotta be a record, we’ve been together what? One whole minute and you’ve already said it.” He rolled his eyes, coaxing a giggle from Rory.

“I said we were bringing it back my love and i meant it!” She grinned smugly up at him before grabbing his hand and leading them into the coffee shop. As the little bell chimed, they were greeted by an older woman who beamed their way.

“Hello Grayson! Your usual i assume? And what can i get for you sweetheart?” She asked with a warm smile.

“Ill go get us a table, i know the best seats.” Grayson told her before wondering off to a far corner in the store.

“Ill get a hot chocolate please.” She replied graciously with a shy smile and the woman was quick to get started on the order.

“I’m Genevieve by the way but you my dear, can call me Gen! You know Grayson never mentioned he had a girlfriend, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” She began to make small talk as she poured Grayson’s coffee into its cup. Rory choked on air at gen’s words, gaping at her in shock.

“Were- were not together, just good friends.” She said with a deep blush.

“Oh my bad! You two would make a beautiful couple if i might say.”

Rory couldn’t help but smile at Gen’s bluntness, she loved her already. After some more casual conversation, Rory said her thank you to Gen and headed off toward the table Grayson had saved, gently placing their drinks on the tabletop before sliding into the booth seat. These seats in particular looked out onto a beautiful landscape and Rory couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as she sank lower into the leather of the seat, this day couldn’t have gone any better. Nothing had changed between her and gray and she couldn’t be more thankful.

The two sat and talked for hours as the sun began to set on the city that awaited them just outside of the window. They filled each other in on everything and anything they could think of, from childhood memories to the launch of wakeheart. It was inevitable really, that they would eventually end up on the topic of a certain twin brother. No matter how much Rory had tried to change the subject, he always found a way back into the conversation, she knew shed have to face the music someday anyway, may as well bite the bullet sooner rather than later.

“He misses you, you know? He may be an absolute idiot and too damn stubborn to ever admit it but i know that he does. He still reads through your old messages and looks at old photos. He still checks your socials every now and then, I’ve seen him.”

Rory sighed with a small shake of her head.

“Gray, he dropped me remember? No one told him he had to do that, he got a girlfriend and she became more important. That’s life i guess and I’ve dealt with that knowledge for years now. He prioritised her over me and that’s on him.” She let her gaze drift from his face to the window beside her, now littered with stray raindrops from the light drizzle that had began.

She allowed herself to breathe deeply, basking in the feelings that a crisp fall breeze always managed to stir within her. God, did she love autumn. Nothing could compare to the sight of the leaves changing to colours of fire and passion before her very eyes. Along with the colder weather came rainy days, and with rainy days? Time she could spend huddled up in front of a window reading whatever book she’d chosen for that week. Everyone who has ever known Rory, would know full well she would would be half way through that book within the space of a few hours.

Something about the rain had always enticed her, she felt a strange comfort within the damp weather that left most people feeling miserable. She thrived in it, wanting nothing more than to cozy up in fluffy socks and warm layers of clothes and watch droplets race along the panes of the nearest window.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Slightly startled from his sudden appearance, she beckoned her breathing to calm down to a steady pace once again. She allowed her eyes to trail up his tall frame, soaking him in as much as she could. There stood Ethan in all his glory along with a piping hot mug of her favourite, hot chocolate. Rory was never much of a coffee drinker, always having a sweet tooth and preferring the chocolatey taste to the bitterness a cup of coffee would leave in her mouth for hours. Besides, no one likes coffee breath. She allowed her gaze to retreat back to its fixed spot, staring out into the forest that lined the perimeter of the Dolan’s backyard.

“Then I hate to break it to you E but you’ll be short of quite a few pennies by the time you’ve heard all of the thoughts that are running around my mind right now.”

She allowed a defeated sigh to slip past her lips, filling the silence that had fallen between the two. It was true, her mind had been all over the place ever since the moment the twins had told her of their plan to pursue a career in Los Angeles. She felt like her world was collapsing in on her and in a way, it was. Her whole life as she knew it consisted of Ethan and Grayson Dolan, she had spent practically everyday with the pair for as long as she could remember and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that chapter of her life to be over.

“A hot chocolate instead? Please Rory, talk to me. I know this is going to be a big change for you, but it is for me and Grayson too yeah? Were all going to be feeling the same emotions in the next few weeks, we have to be there for each other and I can’t do that if you wont open up to me.”

Sliding down opposite her small frame on the cold hardwood floor of his childhood home, Ethan couldn’t help but become overwhelmed by his emotions. This had been his home for many years, it contained so many memories. These very walls had been witness to the life of the three best friends and the idea of leaving this part of his life behind, leaving his best friend behind? It tore Ethan to pieces but he was also optimistic for this exciting new chapter. He tried to remain positive and think of the new adventures they will get to have in the city of angels. The memories he can make with the ones he holds closest.

“Everything is changing E. I don’t think I’m ready to move on from this, I don’t want to be left behind again. I’m going to be so alone here, you guys are the only real friends I have. I don’t want to lose you, or Grayson.”

A stray tear made it’s way down her cheek as the rain continued outside. She looked up to meet the eyes of her best friend, the boy she’d always love. His hand reached out for hers and clasped it tightly in his own. She saw a flash of hope flash across his beautiful brown eyes that she adored so much.

“You could come with us you know? There’s a spare room in the apartment and you know I...we would love to have you there with us. We could go on so many adventures and explore California and we could-“

“E, as wonderful as that sounds, you know my mom would never let me just drop everything and go. What about school? College? You know what she expects of me. I really wish it was that simple.”

In that moment, Rory swore she saw a small piece of Ethan’s heart break away before her very eyes. She forced her tears back, choking slightly from the lack of air that seemed to be escaping her lungs. Why did this have to be so hard? Ethan paused for what felt like eternity before speaking once more.

“I’m going to miss you so much my little lion, so fucking much.”

He outstretched his arms, his warm embrace calling her name. She crawled over to him, closing the small gap that was between them. She clung to his torso as he stroked his fingers through her hair soothingly.

“Nothing is going to change between us Rory, absolutely nothing.”

“Why don’t you come back to our place? I’m not ready to say goodbye yet anyway and I know he’d love to see you. Please, just for a little while?” Gray’s words snapped her back from her reminiscing. He looked into her eyes with such hope, she just couldn’t say no to him.

“God damn those puppy eyes” she cursed under her breath, causing a smirk from Grayson who sat opposite her with a triumphant look on his face.

“I better not regret this Dolan.”

Tags: @rhyrhy462 @evergreendolan @dolansficsandpics @fangdolan @livexdolan @blindedbythelightt @baby-grayson @prettyboydolan @delightfuldolan @sosweetgrethan @episkygrant @resilientdolan @pineappledols @vinylhazza @hydrograyson @velvetdolan @baby-turtles @szadolans @cutestdolans @brockdolan @mercurygrant @abstractstardiva @guiltydols @blazedgraysons @blackpinkdolan @vintagedolan @babeygray @babey-gray @dolanpornhub @onlyyyariii @voidmalfoy @glossydols @graysonsdolansbabygirl @spideysimpossiblegirl @lovingdolans @bubsdolan @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @dolansbeanies @graydolan12 @dolantissue @thecharlietomygillespie @dolandolll @boujeeethan @softethan @risedols @evreths @everydaydolan

[skybound2]

Where You Keep Your Shoes

Who wants some stream of consciousness Drowley written on very little sleep?! I gotcha my darlings!

It happens slowly, Crowley's death. Not the actual moment. That happens quick, like a knife slipped between two ribs. So sharp and whip swift that you barely know what's happening until you look down. 

But then you look down. You look down and you see the handle sticking from your chest. And the pain and confusion seeps in slow as the blood fills your lungs, and you have an eternity to wonder and regret and wish before oblivion takes you. Until you have no time for anything at all ever again.

Crowley's physical death is like that.

What comes after though? That is infinitely worse. A barren void. Both inexhaustible and exhausting. An oppressive, crushing weight dragging you ever further down into insignificance.

But then - then - the cold fingers of death release their hold one by one, letting in tiny pinpricks of light as they dissolve away. Until Nothing becomes Something. Until what once was Empty becomes a little bit less.

The pain of it is, perhaps, just that much worse for it. But that's okay. It's a reminder. Proof of life.

Better than feeling nothing at all.

So there's pain, and that means life. And that's...good? He thinks. Pain seasoned with equal parts wonder and fear.

Wonder that he's back. Wonder that someone would bother. Wonder that anyone would care.

Fear that it can't last. Fear that it's one final joke the universe plans to play on him. Fear that he's out of his depth.

He was no good as a human the first time around, who's to say he's not going to screw it up this time too?

So he deals with it in the only manner he's any good at.

Bargaining. Making deals. Or trying to at least.

Trouble is, there's no one for him to bargain with. No one to whom he can plead his case for continued existence. (He doesn't call it praying. He won't . But what else is it when you beg in silence to an unknown entity that holds the power of life and death over you, with no hope of response?) Because no one claims responsibility for his return at all.

No. No he simply sparks back into being on the doorstep of the Winchester's humble abode in the middle of a rainy winter afternoon. Coughing up blood from a wound that's no longer there; chest heaving for breath, and the muscle trapped beneath his ribs pounding against its cage like it plans to escape.

Something it'll try again. Over and over, night after night. Week after week. As his spontaneous second (or third or fourth, because who's counting anyway?) life trudges on. Waking him up from broken visions of Nothing, bathed in cold sweat, with the familiar taste of ash and brimstone in his throat that no amount of whiskey can wash away.

So he bargains. Makes promises that he'll do better this time. That he'll try, if only he can avoid being sent back to that place of manifested Absence ever again.

The worry that he'll be tossed unceremoniously back into that place plagues him like nothing else ever has. It's a slow, insidious type of torture a former demon such as him can respect.

He doesn't swear to be good, because he doesn't believe he's truly capable of that. But he can pantomime, he thinks. He's spent enough years being foiled by the Winchesters to have a general grasp on the concept, even if his days playing at it before his death were sadly limited. And now, having been given shelter in their bunker, he has a front row seat to what Being Good looks like on a daily basis.

It seems to work, his bargain. He keeps breathing. His heart keeps beating. And he eases back into the world, to life, a day at a time. Learning what it means to be human; pretending he understands what it means to be mortal.  

To be moral.

He trips up sometimes. Forgets why people ( Other people. People he doesn’t know. People he doesn't like.) matter. Sam will shake his head at him, the lumbering oaf sighing that heavy dramatic sigh of his that Crowley is certain he practices in the mirror for optimal judgmental effect, and walk away.  

Feathers and Luci’s brat are more patient with his mistakes. But being near them makes his skin itch. Reminds him of what he was for so long - what he no longer is - in a way that leaves him feeling vulnerable. Exposed . Which just makes him lash out like a cornered housecat.

And like a cornered housecat, he’ll skitter away as soon as the coast is clear; to whatever little dark, solitary place he can find so he can lick his imaginary wounds in peace.

He’s never alone for long though. Dean always finds him. And for all that Crowley sometimes chafes at his presence, he’s grateful for it too.

(But then, he’s hard pressed to recall a time when he wasn’t grateful for Dean Winchester. As even on the days when he was making Crowley’s life difficult beyond measure, he was also making it more interesting.)

Crowley can be alone when Dean’s there. Alone with his thoughts; with his confusion; with his uncertainty. And Dean will let him wallow, but only to a point. Dragging him up and out of the bunker when he gets too maudlin. To pool halls and bars, usually, or easy hunts with black and white answers, where Crowley gets to pretend that he has the faintest idea what it means to be good. But sometimes he just leads him outside. Away from the recirculated air that reeks of blood and sweat as much as it does of parchment and ink.

Dean will let him rant and rage on occasion too, something Crowley appreciates as much - if not more so - than everything else. Maybe because Dean calls him out on his bullshit. Every. Single. Time. And that’s something Crowley has always found refreshing. Demon, human, or somewhere in between.

At first Crowley’s not certain what Dean gets out of it. But as the weeks bleed on into months, he begins to suspect that what Dean gets out of it isn’t all that different from Crowley.

Space. A chance to sort himself out without anyone putting demands on his time. On his thoughts.

Someone who gets it.

Memories of hell a shared space between them, even if they are looking at it from different angles.  

It’s a year and some change after his return that Crowley accidentally falls asleep in Dean’s room for the first time. The nightmares that dog his steps send him scurrying out of his room, in search of some place...safe. But rather than seeking out a bottle and an out of the way corner in the bunker like he is wont to do, his feet carry him to Dean’s door.

Dean answers his knock with a grunt, swinging the door open wide and allowing Crowley entrance with nary a word. The television on Dean’s dresser is paused on a scene of a show Crowley doesn’t recognize, the Netflix logo emblazoned in the corner.

Somehow Crowley finds himself sitting on Dean’s bed. Maybe it’s the lack of chairs in the space, or the fact it’s after midnight and it is by far a more inviting option than the floor. Or maybe it’s just that Dean gestures for him to do so, and an invite to Dean’s bed - no matter in what capacity - is not something Crowley is built to refuse.

So he ends up on Dean’s bed, watching a poorly acted, poorly scripted program on the screen. He slowly migrates back, towards the pillows, his feet lifting from the floor inch by inch as he does.

“Dude, take you shoes off.” It’s a command, not a request. Something Crowley may have balked at in days past, or even in the light of the sun at present. But laying on Dean Winchester’s bed watching Netflix in the dark of the night, visions of the bleak Empty he so fears tickling his mind, Crowley does nothing of the sort. Instead, he does as he’s told. Sliding them off and onto the floor at the side of the bed before settling back on the mattress to watch the show. 

He wakes up before the sun crests the horizon - not that anyone can tell that sort of the thing in the windowless bunker, but Crowley’s internal clock is good at it’s job - still laying on Dean’s bed, the elder Winchester’s sleeping visage a scant few inches away. The sight makes Crowley’s heart once again attempt a messy escape from his chest.

Crowley stares, shock and wonder at the sight he’s been gifted holding him in place. Crowley watches as soft lips he’ll recall the feel of until his bones are dust and insanity all that’s left of his mind, part on an inhale. He watches as what he knows to be impossibly green eyes dart back and forth behind closed lids. He watches, and wonders what Dean dreams about.

But not for long. No. When Dean shifts minutely in his sleep, turning towards Crowley - coming dangerously close to making contact - Crowley flees. Sitting up and dropping his feet to the ground.

When he reaches for his shoes, he finds that they aren’t quite where he’d left them. Instead of beside the footpost, they’ve been slide beneath the bed. Tucked away behind the blanket draped across the mattress that both him and Dean fell asleep on. There they sit, next to another battered, but clean, pair of shoes belonging to the owner of said mattress. 

The sight trips him up for a moment, but then Dean sniffles in his sleep and Crowley gets moving, grabbing his shoes and heading for his own room like a thief in the night.

Crowley tells himself it's not important. That it doesn't mean anything. That there's no reason to dwell on it.

But he does. His treacherous, oh-so-very human emotions clog up his brain with thoughts of it. After all, he's never fallen asleep next to Dean before. And Dean has certainly never done the same. Not in all the nights that they'd dallied about back when Dean had been a demon, and Crowley had been grasping at straws. They’d engaged in all manner of sin, but never something so naked as that .

It happens again three months later. And again a month after that. Then a week. Soon enough it's happening with alarming regularity and frequency. 

He'll show up at Dean's door, ready with an easy excuse that Dean never asks for, and so Crowley never provides. Instead, Dean just lets him in, no questions asked. Door swung open, and shut with a click of the lock behind him, all in the time it takes Crowley to exhale.

Some nights they talk. Bantering about the idiocy on the screen, mostly. But sometimes it’s light anecdotes about life past, or discussing the last hunt, or lamenting the fact that Jack’s interest in cooking ‘family’ dinners has outpaced his ability to make anything remotely edible.

But mostly they sit in silence, watching whatever inane thing is playing on the screen that night. There’s no pressure for explanations. No expectation of confessions or demands for anything beyond simple companionship.

In fact, the only demand that is made, night after night, is that Crowley take his shoes off before putting his feet on the bed.

So Crowley does. Every time.

And every time, when he wakes up, he finds his shoes stowed in the same spot beneath the bed.

Next to Dean's.

It confuses Crowley almost as much as it warms his erratic heart.

They don’t talk about it, of course. Crowley doesn’t want to call attention to it, for fear that doing so will bring an end to, well, all of it.

And Dean, well, Crowley knows Dean well enough to know that there’s only two reasons why he wouldn’t bring it up. Either it’s so unimportant as to not warrant mentioning. Or... it’s the complete opposite of that.

Crowley also figures he knows Dean well enough to know which one of those choices is the more likely one, so he keeps his mouth firmly shut.

He’ll take ambiguity over clear rejection any day. 

It goes on like that - month after month, night after night - Crowley spending more hours asleep in Dean’s bed then in his own - always making sure he’s gone before Dean wakes - until Crowley is celebrating a second rotation around the sun as a human. A day that comes and goes without fanfare, for all that the knowledge of it settles on Crowley like a lead shroud.

Two years, and he’s still no closer to figuring out why he was brought back, or how to make sure he doesn’t go back.  

Two years, and he still thinks he rather sucks at this whole ‘Being Good’ thing, though he’s making progress. (He hasn’t been on the receiving end of one of Sam’s epic judgmental sighs in six solid days.) Slow, tedious progress, but progress all the same.

Not that time or progress helps with the nightmares at all. No. No, the only thing that seems to help alleviate those is the presence of one unfairly attractive hunter sleeping nearby.

It’s the dawn of the morning after said two-year anniversary when everything changes.

Crowley’s soaking in the sight of Dean, peaceful in sleep a hand length away, allowing himself a few precious moments of silent adoration before he has to sneak from the bed. He heaves a sigh, wanting to hold onto the moment longer, but being too much a coward to take the chance of getting caught.

(There’s a vague feeling of loss for the centuries of his life when he’d take whatever he wanted with no thought as to something as mundane as consequence, but he can’t quite bring himself to wish to be back in that time again.)

He’s only just begun the process of rolling from his side to his back when he freezes at the feel of fingers grasping at his wrist. His gaze swings to the location of the touch, his traitorous heart thundering away in his chest as he’s forced to admit that yes, that is in fact Dean Winchester’s hand holding him in place.

“Dammit, Crowley. Just once can you stay put? Be nice to get a full night’s sleep for a change.”

And because Crowley is the epitome of articulation at four in the morning when the man he’s been in love with through life and death and rebirth is touching him skin to skin for the first time since said death for a reason not related to impending doom, he says: “Pardon?”

“Sleep, Crowley. I want to get some. And it’d be a hell of a lot easier if you stopped with the nightly walks of shame.”

It takes a monumental effort to pull his eyes away from where Dean’s fingers are encircling his wrist, but he manages. Sliding them up to Dean’s face, trying to read the look he’s being given by the pale light of the dimmed television.

If Crowley were a less pessimistic sort, he’d think it was almost fond. Annoyed, but fond.

But pessimistic or not, Crowley can’t ignore the fact that Dean is actively holding him back from leaving, and is complaining about him having done so in the past. Crowley’s messy human emotions set his heart racing, his blood rushing. The point of contact between Dean’s fingers and Crowley’s wrist the source of the most intense physical sensations that Crowley can recall since he donned a mortal coil.

Despite his physiological response, Crowley’s mind manages to cling to his sense of self-respect enough to stop him from doing something as embarrassing as declaring his everlasting love or something equally ridiculous. “Hardly a walk of shame, Squirrel.”

Dean’s eyebrows lift towards his hairline. An action that when combined with the sideways position of his head illustrates the lines of age that have begun to carve their way across his forehead. (A fact that - if anything - makes Crowley find him even more attractive.) “No? What else would you call tiptoeing outta here before sunrise every morning in your socks?”

“Being considerate?”

An exasperated chuckle escapes Dean. The sound gravel-rough with sleep, and all too-pleasant to Crowley’s ears. “Considerate would be you keeping your ass in bed for a whole night.”

Crowley chokes on his next breath of air. “You want me to spend the night here?" 

“I haven’t kicked you out, have I?”

“Well, no, but, falling asleep watching D-list eighties movies isn’t the same thing as you wanting me to stay.”

“You think if I didn’t want you here, I’d have let you stay here one night, let alone a hundred?” The question is punctuated with an almost imperceptible brush of Dean’s thumb over Crowley’s pulse-point. The action - simple as it is - sweeps away the vast majority of Crowley’s lingering doubts.

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Good. Glad that’s settled. Now, sleep.”

Crowley swallows down the questions clawing at his throat, and nods his head. He’s rewarded with a soft smile from Dean. Green eyes holding Crowley’s gaze for lingering moments before sliding shut on a sleepy exhale of air.

Dean doesn’t let go of his wrist.

They don’t talk about it in the light of day. Not that Crowley really expected they would. But there’s a distinct shift in their interactions as they move about the bunker. Dean drifting into Crowley’s orbit too often for it to be accidental. Crowley’s head and heart make sure to scream out at him every time it happens, just in case he wasn’t paying enough attention and might miss it.

The internal screaming is made even worse every time Dean smiles or laughs or breathes in his general vicinity.

Dear Mother of Sin, but Crowley feels like a sap.

How he manages to make it through an entire day of pretending that his perception of reality hasn’t been fundamentally altered by one Dean Winchester, he has no idea. (Jack’s attempt at making meatloaf a la mode for dinner helps, he suspects.)

After, Dean heads to bed earlier than usual. There’s no pointed look in Crowley’s direction. No sense of invitation to join him. Nothing at all out of the ordinary.

Crowley follows after him an embarrassingly short time later.

Dean lets him in, as always.

(In retrospect, Crowley can admit that should have been one hell of a clue.)

This time though, when Crowley ends up on the bed with Dean it’s more than just his shoes that join Dean’s on the floor.

So yes, Crowley's death is slow. The slowest in the universe. It begins the moment he first agrees to help the Winchesters, and ends the moment he finally figures out where it is he belongs.

And after that...well, after that, Crowley truly starts living.

~End.

[kittytishers]

I DON'T REMEMBER YOUR AK TAG SO ALL THE ONES YOU DIDN'T DO YET PLS

gdi spacey

1. You woke up naked next to the last person you texted, what would you say? uhhhh id be pretty fuckin weirded out but considering he lives in georgia id just be like “FIRST OF ALL HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET HERE?????” but like why would i be naked anyways thats the real question who sleeps without their pjs?? dont answer that please i beg

2. What’s going on between you and the last person living being you kissed? He’s pretty sick so we’re taking him to the vet today :(

3. If your significant other was into drugs, would you care? depends on the drugs. if they were into weed id want in on some obvi but anything else and id just be eeeehhhhh naaaaahhhh

4. Is your last name longer than six letters? how does 11 letters sound?

5. Was your last kiss drunk or sober? ive never been drunk in my life so take a wild guess

6. Have you ever wanted to have someone but you messed it up? nope.

7. What does your last received text say? “Ooh”

8. How many times have you kissed the last person living being you kissed? more than i can count -w-

9. Where was your last kiss at?  in my house because we both live there

10. When is the last time you saw your sister? This monday before she headed off to disneyland for her honeymoon!!

11. What do you drink in the morning? milk because its in my cereal

12. Where did you sleep last night? my fuckin bed -.-

13. Do you think relationships are hard? i think with the right person it shouldn’t be that bad.

14. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? i wouldve done a different story for my creative writing project

15. You’re locked in a room with the last person living being you kissed, any problems? he’s sick so that would be bad :(

16. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy? sunny

17. Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you? lol nah

18. Are you wearing jeans,sweatpants,or pajama pants? PAJAMA SHORTS HAHAH

19. Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 years from now? I hope so

20. Does anyone like you? Not that i know of

21. Have you ever kissed someone with a name that starts with an S? nope

22. Is the last person living being you kissed gay? I mean he’s neutered so technically he’s ace

23. Is there a person you CANNOT stand? the guy who sits behind me in english -.-

24. Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?  yeah. proll ynot gonna tho

25. In the past week have you cried?  probably

26. What breed was the last dog you saw? my dog is an english springer spaniel so

27. Do you dry off in the shower or out of the shower? out of the shower duh

28. Have you ever kissed a football player? HAHAHAHAH

29. Do you think you’re old? if i think im old i cant call my friends old so im just gonna say no

30. Do you like text messaging? yup

31. What type of day are you having? S T RE SS 

32. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? no but i like how it looks on other people

33. Do you prefer warm or cold weather? cold because SWEATERS

34. Is there a person of the opposite sex who means a lot to you? Three! @pseudonymouslps​ @celestialbomber​ and @luciferhimshelf​!!! they are all great btw follow them if you arent already

35. Would you prefer a relationship or a fling? i want a relationship first and then ill figure out how i feel about flings

36. Are you a simple or complicated person? is anyone a simple person???

37. What song are you listening to? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Etb0xDIFXR4

38. When you say you’re sorry do you mean it? yeah of course.39. Is there a girl that knows everything or almost everything about you? @2cutepandasian​ knows a lot i think. she is my first mother after all40. What made you start liking the person you like now? i mean i don’t have a person i like rn so41. When did you last receive a text message? not quite sure. all i know is the convo started like 6 am my time lmao42. What is wrong with you right now? everyhting???43. How well do you know the last female you texted? my mom continues to confuse me -.-44. Does anyone disgust you? my dog sometimes45. Would you date someone right now if they asked? DEPENDS ON THE PERSON I GUESS??? IDK I THINK ITD BE KINDA WEIRD46. Are you in a good mood right now? i guess so47. Who was the last person you talked to in person? mi madre48. What color shirt are you wearing? black likE MY SOUL49. Has someone recently told you something you didn’t want to hear? i dont want to hear anything my mom says tbh50. Anyone you’re giving up on? nah51. Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? lol i didn’t really fall for anyone

52. Have you ever thought about giving up on someone but couldn’t? no i dont like giving up on people wtf???53. Do you like rain? im an ml fanatic of COURSE 54. Do you care if your significant other drinks? at this age? yeah. when im older than 18 i wont give a fuck55. Have you ever liked somebody and never told them? yeah thats always how it goes 56. Do you like to cuddle? HWO DOESNT??57. Are you shy? not shy just unwilling to engage in conversation with people i dont know or carea bout 58. Do you get along with girls? i get along with anyone i want to59. Have you dated the person you texted last? he’s 5 years older than me ew no like god hes like a brother to me but to date him no wtf??? 60. What do you carry with you at all times? a hair tie and my phone 61. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you? hells yeah. the two outcomes are death or living life rich its a win-win 62. Do you think you can last in a relationship for five months? i mean i hope so 63. Think back to October, were you in a relationship? HAHAHAHAHHAHA 64. The person you like kisses you on the forehead, do you find this cute? i dont like anyone right now but the person i liked a lil while back,,, yeah its be adoarble..;l.,,65. Did anything “cute” happen in the last week? i mean i saw my sister get married like if that isnt cute then idk what else is

66. How old are the last three people living beings you kissed? 4 and 10

67. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? dude nail salons are the best but i can make my own nails i dont really care68. Which do you like better- Zebra print or leopard print?    animal print in general is lowkey trashy imo69. Do you have any stickers on your car?    dont have a car lolol70. Would you rather listen to Luke Bryan or Lil Wayne?    who??71. Blackberry, Android, or iPhone?   iphone fuck yeah 72. When’s the last time you had pizza from Pizza Hut?    looooong time73. Do you like diet soda?    never had any so i cant say74. What color are the walls in your room?    white75. Are you 16 or older?    nope but next year76. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars?    no77. Do you have a job?    no  78. What are your initials?    LZ80. Are you from the south?    I’m from SoCal but not The South™

81. What does your last status on facebook say?    facebook thats cute82. Do you still talk to the first person living being you ever kissed?    of course how else will i yell at him to stop fucking with my shit?83. Are you closer to your mom or your dad?    dad definitely84. Have you ever done cheerleading or gymnastics?    ive done gymnastics before yeah85. What’s the last movie you saw in theaters?    Hidden Figures87. Would you rather wear heels or flip flops?    im in a flip flop mood rn. ive been wearing heels all weekend -.-88. Is your phone touch screen?    yeah90. Have you ever snuck out of your house?    no where tf would i go91. Would you rather swim in a river, lake, or pool?    pool please i dont appreciate fish feces being on my body92. Have you ever made out in a car?    HAH i wish93. …Had sex in a car?    HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA94. Are you single or in a relationship?    take a wild guess based on previous questions its not that hard to figure out i promise95. What were you doing last night at midnight?    screaming at myself to FINISH THE DAMN PAPER96. When’s the last time you saw fireworks?    4th o july97. Do you like the camera on your phone?    it serves its purpose98. Have you ever had a friend with benefits?    nope99. Have you ever passed out from drinking?    nope100. Are you friends with people on facebook that you actually hate?    youre asking as if facebook is still relevent101. Have you ever had a pregnancy scare?    im 15 and ive never had sex in my life. no.102. Name your favorite Kesha song:    WAKA WAKA103. Do you have any tan lines right now?    no but its getting warmer so soonthaank god this bs is over. i wish i could say i hate you but i dont lie