#so i present: my dumbass cope

[lauraneedstochill]

I debated whether I should keep my opinion on EP3 in the comments to @st-eve-barnes post (she made some good arguments btw!) but I guess I’m out of fucks to give. just like the HOTD scriptwriters ✌

big fat disclaimer: I sincerely can’t say a single bad thing about Ewan. his acting was absolutely amazing, he owned the scene, and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t have a problem with nudity (if you watched “High Life”, you know what I’m talking about; if you didn’t, please read the warnings before watching).

my problem is with everything leading up to the brothel scene with Aegon — because this is NOT how you write conflict, and because it could’ve hit way harder if only it was done PROPERLY. unsurprisingly, it started in EP2:

➡ the fact that we got absolutely no reaction to B&C from Aemond is a joke. I’ve read some people saying “well, Jaehaerys isn’t his son so why would he care” — sure, Aemond wasn’t competing to win the uncle of the year award. BUT you are telling me he wouldn’t simply be pissed about the fact that a couple of nobodies managed to sneak into the supposedly well-guarded castle and kill a Targaryen like it’s no big deal? that they dared to put a knife to Helaena’s neck, that they clearly could’ve done worse things to her? that they left a mess in his room, touched his stuff? you mean Aemond, who is definitely an annoying perfectionist who puts every thing in its specific place, Aemond who’s extremely arrogant about being the best warrior, the biggest defender, the mister-know-it-all, Aemond who clearly has anger issues — HE wouldn’t be fuming on the inside? HE wouldn’t rush to the small council meeting to know all the details? HE wouldn’t volunteer to help Aegon murder the ones responsible? it’s a pity everyone’s forgotten S1 Aemond but I have NOT.

➡ I won’t talk much about the brothel scene in EP2 (@pygmyharmoset analyzed it really well) but I will say that to me it felt very disconnected from the main plotline. yet again, there is NO ! BUILD UP ! was it so hard to at least show Aemond leaving? to let us know what mood he was in (was he agitated? fidgeting? when exactly he decided to leave? did something trigger it?). they could’ve cut out the moment of his arrival so we wouldn’t know where he was going to have the big shocking reveal later when he’s suddenly with Sylvi, all naked and vulnerable. it would’ve only taken an additional MINUTE of screentime!

➡ now, to the worst of it — and I really want you to think over what I’m about to say:

people are allowed to grieve in their own way. not everyone is lucky to have all the right tools to process trauma.

did Aegon treat Aemond poorly? was he mean and cruel to his younger brother? yes. yes, he was (newsflash: there are no good people in this show. hope this helps).

BUT

was Aegon’s child killed because of a mistake Aemond made? is it possible that Aegon’s been harboring his resentment, that the absence of Aemond in that tragic, pivotal moment in their lives hurt him? the answer is also YES. Aegon doesn’t know how and has never seen how to cope with emotions in a healthy way, and it’s not in his power to break the cycle so he keeps repeating all the same mistakes. that’s the tragedy of it and that’s the ticking bomb planted under the foundation of their relationship.

the tragedy of that dumbass writing we’ve been presented with is that we did not see their conflict take root. we DID NOT get to see how their discontent kept growing, how they both felt caged and dissatisfied with their circumstances (Aegon realizes no one wants him on the throne and he feels helpless, Aemond is constantly being denied the chance to prove himself so he also feels helpless) — and how eventually that anger they couldn’t channel into anything else made them lash out at each other.

my first thought after watching EP3 was that there’s gotta be a scene missing between the small council meeting and the brothel scene. there SHOULD’VE been a scene with just Aegon and Aemond, they had all the reasons and opportunities for it! here, think about this:

Aemond’s comment at the end of the meeting comes off as patronizing (“It’s a brave thought” — Aemond is forbidden to leave with Vhagar so he’s glad that Aegon has to sit back, too). Aegon insists that he’s just “as fearsome”; but the thing is, he isn’t sure of it, so of course Aemond’s words stay with him, nibble at him, and it would only take a cup or two for him to get heated about it. he calls Aemond to his chambers and brings back the topic — “You don’t deem me brave, brother? You do not think I’d fight just as hard?”. it’s only the two of them, Aegon is in full armor, standing on his little wooden stool, a cup in his hands. and because he is hurting, he wants to hurt Aemond in return. so he gets off the stool and comes closer to him, sneering, “You are, no doubt, a fierce warrior,” — but then the smile falls off his face, and his voice gets quiet, pained, searing, “So tell me, where were you when my son was being murdered? I came to learn that they were looking for you, were they not? Oh, you would’ve fought them off with ease, for sure. So where were you, huh?”

and then you get the tension breaking, the emotions erupting — and, most importantly, the CONFLICT. Aegon throws the cup away, darts to Aemond, grabs him by his clothes (remember how desperately he held his face in EP9 of S1? the parallel would’ve been so beautiful !), finally screaming “Have you any idea what you’ve done? WHAT IT COST US?” — and now he isn’t talking about B&C but about Luke too. only, we’ve seen the extent of Aemond’s guilt and he isn’t about to show it now, taken aback by Aegon’s outburst, so instead of taking the blame, Aemond does what he knows best — he attacks him in return. they throw accusations at each other: Aemond reminds Aegon he was getting drunk, he himself didn’t do anything to be there for his family, he didn’t even do anything to deserve being on the throne. it’s nasty, it’s a shouting match, Aegon’s buddies eventually have to come in to pull them away from each other.

and it’s no surprise that Aegon goes back to drinking after that. and Aemond, overwhelmed and in disarray, goes back to the only place that can grant him comfort. so when Aegon finds him there and dares to humiliate him publicly and rob him of that illusion of comfort — that’s when something switches in Aemond. that’s when he decides he’s not a loyal dog anymore.

and that is, in my humble and very subjective opinion, how you properly bring someone’s temper to a boiling point. if only Ryan Condal ever cared, HA.

[yourmomxx]

Sweet Child O’ Mine

father of mine masterlist

summary: It’s time for Dean to face what he has been so afraid of the entire time. Meanwhile, the monster that has already taken one young man’s life, is on its way to claim the next one

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, throwing up, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 11,2k (whoops)

disclaimer: What I know about Group Homes is what I know from my country (and Google), so I apologize if I made any mistakes

pt1 pt2 pt3

@psycho-magnotheric-slime

Now

The cafeteria was loud. The mixed noise of talking children and clattering dishes and cutlery filled the air, creating a yet bearable loudness.

You were sat at one of the light blue tables, across from you your best friends Cassandra Claire and Finnegan Beckett.

Cass and Finn.

She was lowly cursing at the paper straw in her apple juice box and a few strands of her black bangs slipped into her view. The wolf cut, which had been so present a few months ago, was now already grown out and even the shortest strands of Cass’s hair were reaching her shoulders.

Finn seemed caught up in his own world as he carefully laid out little figures and symbols with his french fries. He still had a few, slightly red acne spots lingering on his skin, amongst freckles covering his nose and cheeks. His hair was flaming red, just as Roy’s had been, but other than him Finn usually hid the tousled locks under a cap.

Roy. The news of his death had hit the three of you hard. You had been a friendgroup of four, Roy and Finn, and Cass and you.

Almost a week ago you had been eating lunch at this exact table, the seat to your right had been taken, laughing about terrible jokes, bickering, and not even considering it all to end as soon as it did.

And especially how it did.

Roy’s body was still lying at the morgue. The authorities had kept it there for ‘further investigation purposes’ as they had said, so no funeral had been possible yet.

Of course, the adults had introduced all of you to helping hotlines and offered their own support in case anyone wanted to talk about their feelings and their grief in the safeness of a closed room.

Not that one of you took that into consideration.

The only way you three were coping with the whole situation was through joking around and pretending none of it ever happened. Which was fine.

You and Cass had sometimes talked in the darkness of your rooms, careful and short conversations while sleeping over because neither of you wanted to spend the night alone.

But other than that? Zero. And it was alright that way. The right moment would come.

Maybe.

“Aha!” Cass suddenly yelled out triumphantly, and startled Finn out of admiring his artwork.

You looked up at her from half-heartedly poking around in your own food, as she proudly held up the apple juice that was now pierced with what looked like the abused version of a thin straw.

You gave a small clap. “Bravo” and she grinned at you before turning to Finn.

Well done, Cassie,” he sarcastically said. “You won the hard fight against the opening of a box of apple juice.”

Cass pouted and took a sip. “You don’t appreciate my victories enough, Finn. And don't call me that. Cassie.” She dramatically shuddered at the nickname.

“I’m mentally unstable, not five.”

Finn examined her perfectly done eyeliner and makeup with skeptically raised eyebrows. “You don’t look mentally unstable to me,” he remarked.

Cass gasped. “Excuse me? Prejudices??” She exclaimed.

“You see that?” She asked, frantically pointing at her face. “See how perfect my makeup is today? That's not a good thing, dumbass! Perfect makeup means that I am absolutely mentally fucked!”

You nodded supportively, and Finn just raised his eyebrows, before he dedicated his attention back to poking around in his food.

“Don't you think that's kind of ironic?” He pointed out, and Cass simply ignored him, except for the tiny eye roll she gave.

“Guys, I need your help deciding what color I'm going to dye my hair next,” she changed the topic instead and desperately ran her hands through her hair.

Finn’s head whipped around, back to his friend. “You're honestly thinking about dying your hair right now?” He asked incredulously.

She groaned and threw him a look.

“No, Finnegan, I am not actively thinking about dying my hair, but I sense a mental breakdown coming and if I'm going to absolutely lose my shit and take it out on my hair, I want the result to look good. Otherwise, we are met with that weird yellow-green-combination again.” Cass let her body shudder dramatically.

“I liked the yellow-green-combination,” you interjected.

Cass reached over the table to lay her hand above yours and looked up at you with sweet eyes. “Thanks, hun.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it,” mumbled Finn, his mouth stuffed full of fries. “Just leave them black.”

“I don’t think you quite understood how a mental breakdown works, man,” you said.

Finn shrugged and dipped a frie into his ketchup. “Whatever.”

You looked at Cass. “I’ll go shopping with you soon and then we will choose a color together,” you promised.

“Thanks,” she said and eyed Finn, “at least someone who cares if I ruin my good looks or not.”

But Finn didn’t hear her, or maybe he just ignored what she was saying. Because he changed the topic.

“Did the FBI agents get a hold of you guys yet?” He suddenly asked.

Your eyebrows shot up in confusion. “The what?”

“The FBI agents,” Finn repeated.

“Why, thank you, I got that part, but what is the FBI doing here?”

Cass just shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently they are here investigating Roy's murder.”

“What, they think someone murdered him?” You asked in disbelief.

“Well, he will not have crushed his ribs all on his own now, will he?” Finn drew a heart shape with the remaining ketchup on the plate.

“It's better than the state police,” retorted Cass, “who still think that it was some kind of ... animal attack.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right, because a bear sneaking into a castle, pushing down on someone's chest and then just leaving seems so plausible.”

Your friends raised their eyebrows in agreement.

“What did they ask you guys?” You closed your waterbottle and absentmindedly started cleaning up your plate.

Cass shrugged and leaned back in her chair with crossed arms. “Not much, the usual, I guess,” she answered, “Wanted me to tell them some things about Roy, his behavior lately, who would have wanted to hurt him…” She trailed off.

“Same here. Routine stuff,” Finn said. Then he leaned a bit closer and lowered his voice.

“To be honest, I don't really care why they're here, they are both incredibly handsome.”

“Finn!” You and Cassandra exclaimed at the same time.

“What?!” The boy widened his arms in defense. “Let me enjoy the one good thing that came from Roy's death.”

Cass shoved him in response. “God, you are a manwhore!” She grumbled.

Finn rubbed his arm with an offended pout on his lips and you giggled. “Geez, we must seem so fucked up, our best friend got murdered and here we are, joking about his death.” You shook your head lightly.

“It's what he would have wanted.” Cass scooted a bit closer on her seat and took both yours and Finn’s hand in acted solemnity.

“If I die,” she vowed, “you are now officially allowed to joke about my death as much as you want. On any occasion.”

“Sick!” You called out and Cass smirked.

“Can we please get back to the part where she said if?” Finn pointed out.

Cass rolled her eyes and pulled back.

“I'm a witch, after all,” she reminded him with a threatening silken voice that had a tone of mockery. “And one day, I will figure out the secret of necromancy, just you wait.”

Finn scoffed and grinned. “Right, you with your crystals, and your smokey sticks and your herbs and tarot cards.”

He wiggled his fingers in front of her face. “That's some real serious stuff you got there, Cass.”

She pushed him away. “Yeah, keep making fun of it. We'll see who has the last laugh when I turn immortal and outlive all of you idiots.”

Finn shook his head. He looked at you and pointed his forefinger to his temple, moving it in circles to indicate what he held of her words.

You shook your head grinning, and Cass, who noticed the interaction, promptly took Finn’s sugar-glazed donut and dumped it in his untouched mayonnaise.

"Ew! Jesus, Cass, you are disgusting!" Finn yelled as he stared at the disaster.

She just shrugged and was quick to eat her own food before he would get any ideas.

For a while, it was quiet. You continued cleaning and sorting your lunch plate, while Cass ate and Finn and her did not speak a word to each other.

It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though, just a break from conversation.

Eventually, Cass was the one to break it.

“So, uhm, did you guys, like - I mean, have you been thinking about Roy, too? Or, like, dreaming or something?” With every word her voice got more quiet until it was only a low mumble, drifting apart in the busy noise around.

But still everything she said managed to pierce through the air and directly into your heart.

“Why would you bring that up?” Finn asked through gritted teeth, he almost sounded mad.

Cass avoided eye contact with both of you and pressed the palms of her hands against her forehead, as if to stop it from giving her incredible pain.

“I’ve been having those horrible nightmares, since it happened,” she sighed in despair.

“It’s the same thing over and over again. I see something going into his room, but when I try to open the door, it’s locked. And I hit it, and I scream, but there’s just no sound coming out of my mouth. And when the door finally opens, there he is, lying on the bed, just-”

A heavy clatter interrupted her monologue and made you flinch. Finn had thrown his fork onto his dinner plate.

“Didn’t ask about fucking details, Cassandra,” he hissed lowly, stood up and walked away with his tray in hand.

Cass looked after him as he left and put her head in her hands with a groan.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” she mumbled into the fabric of her sleeve.

“I know,” you said. She raised her head. You gave her a sympathetic smile.

“D’you think he hates me now?”

You shook your head no. “He’s just grieving. We all are. He will get himself together again, promise.”

For a second, her lips quirked up in a small smile.

“Come on,” you said then and swung your leg over the bench, standing up. “We’ve been sitting here for far too long anyways.”

You took your tray and Cass was quick to follow you and put the dirty dishes away.

“I didn’t have any, by the way.” Confused, she looked at you.

“Nightmares,” you added.

Cass nodded. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll deal with this the same way I deal with everything: completely and utterly alone.”

You jokingly shoved her at her theatrics, and she grinned. “Shut up. I’ll be damned if I let you deal with any of this on your own. Got me?”

She laid a hand upon her heart and the other on your shoulder. “You’re so sweet,” she said. “And I suppose that also includes helping me study for my biology exam which I have definitely already studied for?”

You pulled back and inhaled sharply, pretending to think. “Ah ma’am, I am afraid this feature is not included in your subscription. We apologize for any discomfort this may bring.”

“It brings a great deal of discomfort!” Cass exclaimed while you two walked the hallway to your rooms.

“You can write me an email-complaint,” you joked. “No guarantees though. You’ve had like two weeks to study for that one.”

“I know, I know, but it’s so endlessly boring and complicated!” she cried.

You shrugged. “There’s a reason I didn’t take the AP class.”

“And I will forever envy you for it.”

You stopped when you reached the two doors to your bedrooms that laid right across of each other.

“Then,” you said and bowed lightly, “farewell my friend. May your head not explode while rehearsing for the terribly difficult school subject that is AP biology.”

She flipped you off and disappeared into her room. Laughing to yourself, you opened the door and slipped into your own.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Central Nebraska 2007

The past few hunting days had been rough. Sam and Dean had driven from one case to the next without a break, been beaten up by an entire pack of werewolves and hunted down a loose chupacabra outside of its usual territory.

Dean was beyond exhausted. His muscles ached, his head was pounding, and the lack of sleep was weighing his limbs down. He was practically dragging himself over the gravel path, before he swung open the door to Harvelle’s Roadhouse.

The air that hit them from inside was stuffy, warm, and smelt like sweat and alcohol. Low but loud enough music fell into an uncoordinated melody with loud chatter and the clinking of glass.

Dean felt like he had never experienced something more beautiful, after the weeks he’s had.

“Deeeeeannnn!”

He heard the excited cry of his name before he saw where it came from. He spotted a bright sundress on a small girl, and out of instinct crouched down as she sped towards him.

With a grunt, Dean picked her up in his arms mid sprint and lifted her up. Behind him, Sam closed the door again as Dean made his way over to the bar with little Y/N on his hip.

“How is my favorite girl today?” He asked her and she grinned at him.

“I’m good! I missed you,” she added.

Dean’s chest clammed with how much he loved her.

“Well, I’m back now, ready to give you allllll my attention. Come on, show me those fangs.” He nodded his head at her chin at his request, and Y/N drew her lips back and bared her teeth to him.

Dean held the hand that wasn’t holding her in front of his eyes and pretended to be blinded. “Wow, those are clean! I can’t even see anything.”

With a giggle, Y/N closed her mouth again and Dean blinked hard a few times.

“I brush them extra hard. Ask Auntie Ellen.”

Dean nodded. “I totally believe you. Every werewolf would be jealous of those teeth. Oh, did I say werewolf? I meant vampire, of course.”

Dean shook his head at himself, and Y/N beamed up at him with the brightest shining eyes he had ever seen.

“Good to see you again, boys,” Ellen greeted them and pulled out two glasses. “The usual?”

Sam and Dean nodded. Ellen started pouring. When Sam took his drink, he pointed somewhere in the back of the bar and said, “I’ll go have a talk with Ash.” Then he was gone.

Dean placed Y/N on one of the bar stools and took his seat next to her.

“Dean, can you play Operation with me?” Y/N asked him, and Dean stilled in his movement to take a sip of his drink. He opened his mouth to answer her, but Ellen was faster.

“Baby, let Dean rest for a bit. I’m sure these past few days haven’t been all sugar and cakes for him. Maybe later, alright?”

Y/N pouted a bit, but then shrugged and shuffled off the barstool. “Okay,” she said, and disappeared between the people, probably to the private rooms.

Dean looked after her and then turned back to Ellen with a thankful look on his face.

“Can’t believe that game is still so popular. I mean, I used to play with that in my childhood,” he said, and took a sip from his drink. The alcohol burned a bit down his throat, but it was exactly what he needed right now. Dean closed his eyes and sighed appreciatively.

“Really glad you’re back,” Ellen then told him honestly, as she opened up a beer for herself and folded her arms on the counter. “She’s been asking me nothing else than ‘When will Dean come back’ for the past few weeks. I can’t hear that sentence anymore.”

Dean chuckled and she took a sip.

“Yeah,” he dragged, and threw a look in the direction that Y/N had disappeared in. Ellen tilted her head and gave him a look he couldn’t quite read.

“You’re really good with her, ya know?” She twirled the bottle loosely on the counter. Dean avoided her inquiring gaze and looked into the liquor in his glass instead. He vaguely saw his reflection in it.

“’ve always been good with kids, I guess.” He shrugged it off.

Ellen hummed. Dean didn’t know what to make of it. He looked up at her again.

“For what it’s worth, she makes it really easy,” he said. Ellen raised her eyebrows. “To lo- to like her, I mean. She’s a great kid. You did good with her.”

Ellen sighed. “Yeah, I like to think I did. Wasn’t always easy.”

Dean nodded. A bit after they had met, Ellen had vaguely told him how she got to Y/N. How someone had just dumped the little girl, barely one year old, on her doorstep. No note, only a name and date of birth, and a blanket in the basket she had been put in.

When he had first heard the story, Dean’s hand had cramped around his beer bottle so hard his knuckles had turned white.

Stories like this about kids always got to him. But about this one? Hell, the lengths he would go to protect that little girl. She had made her way into his heart so easily, no preparation or caution, just boosted right into it with her bright smile and those happy eyes.

And Dean had never spent a day not wanting to know her.

Sometimes, when he thought about it, he thought about how easy it was. To love a kid. She wasn’t even his, but every time he had to say goodbye to her for God knows how long again, his heart broke a little more.

And he thought about how it was that easy, and how yet, somehow his father had not managed it. Had left his children alone, abandoned, in ran down motel rooms, without any contact for days and sometimes weeks. How he had felt absent, even when he was physically present, and how Dean could never do enough to feel enough for him.

It made him ache, but he had promised himself to never make anyone else feel this way. And maybe, just maybe, this little wonder he had come across was supposed to be his salvation.

“Dean, I have to tell you something.”

Somehow, the way Ellen said it, made Dean stiffen. A strange mixture of regret and hurt crossed her exes.

“It’s about your daddy,” she added.

“And about Y/N.”

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

If Sam had tried to read the different emotions that were crossing his older brother’s face right now, he would have given up as soon as he had started.

But one thing was certain, they were many, and probably none of them were good.

They stood in front of the wooden door to their last room.

Your room, to be exact.

And they stood there for the second time today, to be exact.

Maria had pointed them the numbers of the bedrooms where Roy Kendall’s friends lived, they had paid each of them a visit and asked them questions about the deceased.

None of those interrogations had proven to be useful to them, though.

Also, funny enough, it turns out that Cassandra Claire and Y/N Winchester’s room happened to lay just across the hallway from each other.

But when Sam offered to move on to her after finishing Cassandra’s questioning, Dean had not-so-smoothly avoided his question and decided he was in desperate need of some lunch.

Which is why, now, they were standing here, staring at the old wooden door with filled stomachs and angel Castiel in tow - who had decided to join them after all.

Said angel now leaned in closer to Sam and not so silently whispered, “Is he- frozen? Shall I wake him?”

Dean snorted and shook his head, as if Castiel’s words had actually woken him up from the sort of trance he had been trapped in.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, still talking into the direction of the - apparently very intimidating – wooden door.

Sam raised his eyebrows, fully aware that his brother couldn’t see him. “Well then,” he said, extending his hand to the door. “Knock.”

Dean threw a murdering look over his shoulder at his little brother and took a deep breath in, shook his shoulders.

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew this had to be difficult for Dean, but he also wanted to get all of this over with. He could think of more fun things than spending his entire day in an orphanage, investigating a murder. Also, his suit was starting to get itchy.

The sound of Dean knocking at the door felt like a salvation. “Agents Shield and Stark and …” He threw Cas a look, “… Miller. We’re here to ask you some questions about the death of Roy Kendall.”

For a second, it was quiet. Then, “It’s open.”

The voice from inside made a chill run down Sam’s spine. He couldn’t imagine what his brother felt. But even if Dean was falling apart inside, he didn’t let his face show any of it.

Dean’s heart twisted with the door handle, as he pushed the door open and entered into the room. After him, Sam and Castiel entered, and Dean closed the door behind them again.

The room wasn’t big, but it had been decorated to be comfortable. In the middle of the wall to their right, a twin-sized bed with unified colors was placed, a small bedside table next to it.

To their left was a tall wardrobe that almost reached the ceiling, and under the window on the wall opposite them stood a nice desk.

And there, shuffling through some papers, stood a young teenage girl, with her back turned to them.

“Sorry about the mess, I-“ Dean’s heart skipped a beat as you turned around.

You hadn’t changed, not a bit, but had grown so much. The roundness in your features, like with all children, had gone away as you grew older. You had changed your hair, and your voice was different, but it was so unmistakably you that Dean needed a second to catch himself.

He feared his feet would buckle under him, as you looked at him with wide open eyes, those eyes that he remembered looked so much like your mother’s.

You felt your whole world tumble around you as you looked at them. At him. Your heart was speeding in your chest, a feeling spreading in your stomach as if you had been sucker punched.

This couldn’t be real, there was no way. But then again, there was no reason why it wouldn’t be. There were more epic scenarios you could have come up with to reunite with your … family. And nevertheless, you had stopped having dreams like that a long time ago. You had given up on hoping a day like this would come.

But now it was here, apparently, and it was so unspectacular, it was almost funny.

They walked in here, after years, in fancy suits and badges, wanting to know about- what exactly was it they wanted to know about?

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath, gathering yourself.

“What are you doing here?” Compared to the chaos inside of you, your voice sounded calm and collected, almost devoid of any emotion, and a part of you was proud.

Sam cleared his throat. You noticed he looked older.

Well, no shit. But more … drawn, from his experience. Trauma, maybe. You hadn’t been aware of much when you were a child, but that their work took a toll on them, that had been unmistaken.

And Sam’s eyes held a story that seemed as tragic as it seemed muddled.

“We heard about Roy Kendall’s death,” he answered.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. They had heard about Roy. Did that mean they were here to-

“And we’re here to find out what killed him.”

What?

“What?”

“Yeah, we, uh-“ Sam shifted his weight awkwardly, “We don’t think it was a … natural death.”

“Well, no shit.” Roy’s chest had been cracked open. You were no coroner, but even you knew that couldn’t exactly be filed under the case of natural deaths.

Now, Dean took a small step forward, trying his best to hold eye contact with you, and your shoulders subconsciously stiffened.

“Y/N-,” he started.

“Dean,” you shot back.

And that wort was like a punch in his guts. Dean felt physically sick. But how could he expect any different really?

You noticed him stumbling slightly at the word, a look of hurt crossing over his face.

Good, you thought.

A part of you wanted to hit him in the chest, scream at him until your voice was raw, Why did you do this? Why did you leave me? When did you stop loving me?

But in the end, you didn’t.

You would rather die than give him the satisfaction of breaking down.

Why you thought he would feel satisfaction at your hurt, you didn’t know.

“So, Roy,” you simply said, something to break the pressing silence in the room.

Sam nodded. “Yes, exactly. We, uhm –“ He pointed to the third man you had never seen before, “and Castiel, we wanted to ask you a few things about him.”

You glanced at the guy in the trenchcoat, who raised his hand to do an awkward little wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“Too,” you said.

There was a silence again, until Dean took the floor. “So, he was one of your friends?” He asked, “That Roy kid?”

People had been doing it for days, yet something about them talking about one of your best friends in the past tense made your stomach turn with uneasiness.

You hummed in agreement.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam said.

“Stick it,” you bit back, and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

“Did your friend mention anything … out of the ordinary happen, before he was killed?” The third guy, with the trenchcoat and the weird name which you had already forgotten, asked.

You clenched your jaw and something about the way Dean pressed his eyes shut in exasperation made you believe that this guy’s bluntness was something quite common.

“No,” you simply said. Trenchcoat frowned.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked, taking a slight step forward.

“Yes, I am. Roy never said anything about anything strange that would be in any way valuable to your case.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dean questioned.

You shrugged. “What I said.”

“Y/N, any information you can give us about Roy’s behavior before he died is extremely important and could really help us,” Sam urged.

Something about the way your name slipped off his tongue, with that sense of familiarity and normal, made your skin itch.

You took a deep breath and cleared your throat. “Well, I mean - he just mentioned that he was having those … terrible nightmares all of a sudden.” You shrugged. “Like I said, nothing that would be worth writing down.”

Sam did it anyways.

Dean tilted his head and looked at you quizzically. “Why would you think his nightmares were unusual? I mean, everyone has bad dreams from time to time.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably. “Yeah, I know, but it’s just …” You paused. This was stupid. “It’s stupid, really, but – Roy doesn’t usually dream.”

Didn’t, you corrected in your head, but the word didn’t make it past your lips.

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“And it was just strange, because he was having these nightmares frequently, or rather this nightmare, because it was always the exact same,” you keep rambling on.

“What was it about?” Dean asked.

You swept your hand across your forehead. “I don’t know, he wouldn’t talk much about it. Just said that it was like the worst day of his life replaying over and over.”

Dean nodded. Sam frowned in interest.

“Do you know what that was? The worst day of his life?”

You shrugged. “The day he lost his parents, probably,” you said. “The entire house burnt down right in front of him. He made it out, they didn’t.”

Your voice was quiet and pressed, still feeling bad about sharing such an intimate part of Roy’s history with those … strangers. A nagging part in the back of your mind kept telling you he wouldn’t – couldn’t – mind anymore.

Sam’s pen kept scraping over his notebook, and Dean threw a glimpse over his brother’s shoulder. As you watched them, your gaze fell on trenchcoat-guy, who was still positioned in the corner of your room, just a few steps behind them.

He was observing you with interest, blue eyes staring back into yours as if he was looking directly at your soul. Something like a chill ran down your spine.

The man tilted his head, as you diverted your attention back to Dean and Sam. His brows were furrowed.

Cas recognized you. He didn’t know where from, but you looked so weirdly … familiar. Your features, the shape of your face. They way you talked and moved.

“Your boyfriend is staring at me weirdly,” you mentioned to Dean, as you caught the man’s gaze again.

Dean turned his head and looked at him, then back to you. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”

You lifted your eyebrows and made an ‘Ah’ sound. Trenchcoat was getting weirder by the second. But at least the guy had stopped his creepy staring. For now.

“Look, I don’t want you guys here. But I understand that your presence is necessary in order to catch whatever it is that’s killing my friends. So, you just do your thing, look around a bit, kill something, and then leave. Both of you.”

With a look at the third guy in the trenchcoat, you added, “Three.”

Dean avoided your eyes, but Sam nodded jerkily and cleared his throat again. “Yeah, we uh … we understand that.”

He straightened his coat and turned to leave the room. “Thank you for your help for now, really. We’ll get in touch if we need anything else.”

You nodded simply, even though you didn’t exactly know what to make of that idea.

As Sam and trenchcoat-guy made their way to leave the room, Dean took a small step towards you and pulled something out of his suit jacket.

“And if there’s anything else you might remember or see, you can always give us a call.” You stared at the small paper he had handed to you. With dark blue pen, a phone number was sloppily scribbled on it. The edges of the paper were uneven, it had probably been ripped off a bigger sheet.

You pursed your lips and nodded.

“Yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say. Thank you wasn’t really in the cards right now. Dean cleared his throat and stepped back with a nod. Then, they left the room one by one.

“Have a nice day,” Sam said.

“You, too.” The answer came automatically. The door closed behind them with a click, and you were alone again.

The small paper suddenly felt incredibly heavy in your hand.

—

When Dean stepped through the threshold and out into the hallway, he felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. He took a deep breath like a man starved.

The sick feeling in his stomach still lingered.

He didn’t even wait for the click of the closing door before he started making his way to the exit, trusting that his brother and Castiel would follow.

His fast steps echoed over the hallway, when suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder yank him around. Dean was staring into the eyes of his younger brother. He shook his arm to let Sam’s hand harshly fall off.

“What?”

Sam didn’t say anything, and Dean just glared at him. It was Castiel who spoke up first. His head was tilted, eyebrows scrunched, and a curious tone in his voice.

“She is your … daughter.” It wasn’t a question. Cas had figured out the root of all of Dean’s hesitation – to come here, to stay here, to investigate. All because of one person, that he knew was so close to Dean Winchester, but yet way too far than two people with their natural bond should be.

“What gave it away?” Dean turned to Cas. His tone was bitter. “The attitude or the way she hates my guts?”

Castiel looked him up and down.

“She is so similar to you,” he stated matter-of-factly, completely ignoring Dean’s sarcastic response.

Dean exchanged an annoyed look with his little brother, who simply shrugged.

“All right, now that we’ve cleared that up,” Dean gruffed and made his way down the hallway again, “Let’s go.”

He trusted that the others followed him quietly.

When they reached the gravel path that led from the small castle to their car, Sam picked up his pace to catch up with his older brother. “Dean, I’ve been thinking.”

The man scoffed. “Oh, don’t hurt yourself like that, Sammy.”

“I’m serious.” Sam halted next to his brother and pulled him to a stop with a firm hand on his shoulder. “And I think, maybe… we should sit this one out.”

The way Sam said the last bit was careful, and Dean tilted his head as he turned to his younger brother. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, maybe this case is too personal for us, Dean. Maybe we should let some other hunter take care of it.”

Dean shook his head. “No way. This is the first time in years that I get to see my daughter, I will not just throw this away.” He lifted his index finger to point it at his brother.

“Well, what exactly is it that you want to do, Dean? It’s not like the two of you have the strongest father-daughter bond!” Sam scoffed and his arms in the air.

Dean started walking towards the impala again. “I know, and that’s why I want to make things right with her.”

“What for, Dean? Just so we leave her here, again?”

"I don’t know!” Dean whirled around in fury as he yelled the words. He slumped his shoulders.

“I don’t know, okay?” He said, his voice was smaller now. “Look, let’s just … let’s finish this case. Give me some time to figure things out and then we will decide.” Dean peeled himself out of his suit jacket and tossed it in the backseat of the impala. He slammed the door. “But first, let’s save some lives.”

Sam shook his head. “Alright. Whatever you say.” He matched Dean as he opened the door to the back and tossed his jacket on the leather seats.

“By the way, where’s Cas?”

Sam threw a look around them. He was right, the angel was nowhere to be found. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he zapped to the motel again.”

Dean frowned as he pulled open the front door. The hinges squealed. “We need to have a serious talk with him about that. Can’t have him disappearing on me the entire time.”

Sam frowned. Dean meant them, right? Couldn’t have him disappearing on them the entire time. Us.

Right?

Sam decided to shrug his brother’s strange comment off for now and got in the passenger’s seat.

“We have to go there anyways. Do some research,” he said.

Dean hummed and started the car. Sam could about assume what that meant. The gravel gnarled under the Impala’s tires as they drove off.

—

Back alone in your room again, you sat on your desk chair as your playlist of favorite songs blasted through your headphones. Dark ink started covering your thighs, where you were drawing on them with your pen as you had placed them on the surface of the desk.

The past few minutes, your mind had been insanely occupied with processing what the actual fuck had just happened. Because. Well. What the actual fuck had just happened?

When they had knocked on your door, you had expected the normal questioning, something that Cass and Finn had been talking about anyways.

When you turned around, just to stare at the face of Dean Winchester, your mind had gone fully devoid of every thought ever formed.

The typical “heart slipping into your pants.”

It felt as if you had worked on autopilot, not even coherently remembering what you had said to them. Had your reaction been an appropriate one? After years of imagining this exact scenario, in all ways and forms it could’ve played out, you not being able to form a simple sentence had not been one of them.

In afterthought, maybe you should’ve punched Dean.

Maybe that would’ve been the appropriate response.

The sharp sound of a knock at your door made you startle. You pulled your headphones off your ears and turned the music off. Those things were great, but in all those years they had never quite managed to overpower the sounds around you.

Maybe that was why you were still allowed to wear them all the time.

“Who’s there?” You asked loudly into the room.

“Me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. The fuck? How was there not a single normal person knocking on your bedroom door today?

“Who is me?” You asked again.

The door opened just the tiniest bit, creaking in the process, and through peeked the head of the third man that had accompanied Sam and Dean earlier.

Trenchcoat guy.

“It’s me,” he repeated.

You frowned. “Uhm - come in?” You invited him and lifted your feet off the table.

Trenchcoat guy carefully shuffled in through the gap in the door until he stood in your room, awkwardly, and his stiff posture made him look so out of place, it was almost funny.

When he didn’t seem to plan on doing anything more than eyeing the bookshelf on the other wall, you decided to speak up.

“I’m sorry, but I think I forgot your name.”

Slowly, he turned his attention back to you, as if he had now just remembered that you were there. “I’m Castiel,” he answered in a deep, gravelly voice.

You raised your eyebrows. “Ah. Right.” Another beat of silence. “Are you, like - Dean’s boyfriend or something?” You asked.

Castiel frowned and tilted his head. “Me and your father are not romantically involved in any way whatsoever,” he reassured you.

“Ah,” you said again. Then, “Did Dean send you?”

Castiel shook his head, almost offended at the implication. “After our … conversation, earlier, he figured you were not too enthusiastic to see him. That is why only I am here.”

You swallowed hard. No, that wasn’t true.

“He’s damn right.”

Castiel nodded.

Then it was quiet again. “Is there … anything you need?” You dragged out, unsure of what he was planning to do in here exactly.

“Well, no, not specifically, I just - wanted to talk to you,” Castiel said, though he seemed not too secure about his purpose himself. “About your father.”

“Dean,” you corrected, but were sure Castiel didn’t miss how your shoulders stiffened at it. The man in the trenchcoat frowned and dipped his head lightly.

“Yes, your father.” He repeated.

You shook your head. “He’s not my father. He’s just Dean.”

“As I understand it, you were conceived through him and your mother having sexual intercourse, therefore-“

“Okay! Thank you,” you interrupted him and raised your hand to sign stop. “What do you want?”

Castiel took a few steps closer to you, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor as he seemed to look for the right words.

“I fear your father- Dean,” he corrected himself with a look in your direction, “does feel very bad about what happened between you and him.”

You pursed your lips. “So? Did he tell you that?”

Castiel looked sheepish. “No,” he answered honestly, “But I know your- him. Just because he does not like to talk about his feelings does not mean that he does not feel them.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Let me ask you something, Castiel,” you said. He nodded. “Anything.”

“Do you know at all what happened? Between me and him?”

Again, Castiel looked away. You did not know this man. You did not know what his history with Dean was, or with Sam. But you knew that he knew nothing.

“No.” That one word confirmed it.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Then - excuse my choice of words - but you have no room to talk. And if Dean wants to tell me something, he can always do that himself. In person. He’s here anyway.”

Castiel nodded. “Alright.”

It was silent again, between you and him, until Castiel took in a sharp breath and leaned forward into something close to a bow.

“I’m sure they await me,” he explained. “Goodbye, Y/N.” He then turned around to open the door, but paused mid his action.

“You do look a lot like him, you know?” He said.

That’s it.

“Out,” you ordered him harshly and Castiel walked through the door, closing it behind him.

—

You had, in fact, ended up helping Cass study for her upcoming exam. Well, what means help, you had asked her questions and she had to answer them correctly - which worked expectedly not so well.

“I can just play the dead friend card,” she had joked, but you knew that she was actually actively considering it.

In that moment though, you had just skipped over her remark and continued asking her about the digestive system of a Baird’s beaked whale.

It was already late at night when the two of you finally hugged goodbye.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “You helped a lot. I’ll forget it all until tomorrow morning, but I do appreciate your effort.”

You smiled at her. “Don’t worry, you’ll nail it. Or at least not fail.”

She laughed. “You think too highly of me, Y/N.”

For a few moments, nobody said a word. “I never asked you,” Cass eventually started, “are you okay?”

You took a deep breath and shifted your weight. “Considering the circumstances, I guess. You?”

“Same thing,” she said. You laid your head back and stared at the ceiling. “It still feels weird only being three people,” you realized.

“Yeah,” Cass agreed quietly.

A few beats of silence passed, until you got yourself back together and shook your body as if to shake off your grief.

“But whatever,” you sighed. “Can’t change that now, can we?”

You looked at Cass and she hummed with a dull shrug, seeming lost in her own thoughts.

She absentmindedly opened her bedroom door, but just as she wanted to disappear into the room, you grabbed her arm to stop her for a second.

“By the way, about your nightmares,” you said, “maybe you can take some pills against that, if it gets too much. Unregulated sleep is probably worse than no sleep.”

Cass managed a tired smile. “Will try, thanks. Goodnight babes, love you,” she threw you a kiss.

“Love you too, good night,” you said back and smiled at her, waiting until she closed the door to enter your own room.

—

You didn’t know what woke you up. The glowing numbers of the digital clock on your nightstand showed it to be somewhere around half past three. Really not your usual wake-up time.

Just as you rolled around in your sheets to get your missing hours of sleep in, you heard strange shuffling outside your door. Perking up, you realized it sounded like the overlapping chatter of voices, and shoes pounding over the smooth floor.

Yeah, no way you would be going back to sleep now.

Especially not with the uncomfortable feeling that had settled into your stomach.

Stumbling a bit, your joints not quite awake yet, you trutted over to your door and creaked it open slightly.

The white light burned your eyes at the start, as you slipped out of your room and were met with the sight of multiple people fussing around not that far away.

The uneasy feeling only got worse, as you realized two things at once: The people were first responders, firefighters, to be exact. And they were all gathered around the open door across the hallway to yours.

Cass.

You moved on autopilot, as your feet carried you closer to the scene, eyes not leaving the gaping black hole that was the entrance to your best friend’s room.

“What happened?” You asked the closest paramedic next to you, a young man with brown hair and dark gear. It didn’t help much, because his voice faded out into the back of your head, as movement began to settle over the group.

The paramedic gestured his hands, as he talked to you, though that was not at all what had grabbed your attention.

You could only look at her, as she was lying sprawled out on the stretcher that was being wheeled out of her bedroom.

Cass.

But it wasn’t Cass, it couldn’t be. Dark grey plastic was wrapped around her body, covering her features as one of the firefighters that pushed the gurney zipped the material closed.

A body bag.

You felt bile rise into your throat.

Who put a seventeen-year-old in a body bag?

She wasn’t supposed to be there. What was she doing in there.

She had a biology exam tomorrow. She was supposed to join you at breakfast. In just a few hours. She was supposed to still lay in her bed and sleep, fast and sound.

Lay in her bed. Not on a moving gurney. Her bed.

You had laid in that bed. Just a few hours before.

The exam.

Breakfast.

Dark grey plastic.

Body Bag. A body. Dead. A dead body.

Dead. Dead. Gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Dead.

Like a distant echo, you still vaguely registered the young paramedic talking to you; he came to an abrupt stop when you bent over and threw up on his shoes.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Sioux Falls 2009

The soft music that sounded through Grandpa Bobby’s old house reminded you of Auntie Ellen’s Roadhouse.

It made you a bit homesick, but for a while now, whenever you asked Dad if you could go there again, he just shook his head and said that it wasn’t possible.

That’s also the reason why you’d been living with Grandpa Bobby for very long now, he had told you.

Auntie Ellen and Jo came to visit sometimes, but it wasn’t the same. But you saw Dad much more often, and you liked that. You missed him whenever he went out and saved people.

Grandpa Bobby had told you that it was very important, what Dad and Uncle Sam did. That’s why you never complained when they stayed away for long.

Grandpa Bobby said they saved lives. Like firemen, he said. Or Sheriff Jody.

Auntie Ellen and Jo came over for a visit today. Dad had said that they were here to help him and Uncle Sam take care of something, that’s why they had to leave later.

Jo was playing your favorite boardgame with you. You had missed her. She was still very pretty. You knew your Dad thought that too.

“Alright,” Dad said, walking through the threshold that connected Grandpa Bobby’s workroom and the dinner table where you and Jo were currently playing. “It’s time to get this little Lady to sleep.”

You pouted at him.

“But Dad, I still want to stay up and play with Jo!”

Dad raised his eyebrows and threw a pointing look at his watch.

“It is already way past your bedtime, kiddo. And I heard tomorrow is a big school day?”

He was right. Tomorrow, you started your first singing lessons with all your bestest friends. Not all of them as best friends as Jo was, though.

Your shoulders slumped.

“Can I at least say Goodbye to you?”

Dean’s gaze went soft as he looked at you. He knew how hard this was for you, how he left all the time and came back for only such short periods. But he wanted to make this a better world for you to grow up in. And when all of this was over, and it would be tonight, hopefully, then he would allow himself to settle down and spend all the time he could give with you.

“Of course you can, my little love.”

Dad crouched down and lifted you up into his arms.

“Dean, Jo!” Came Auntie Ellen’s voice from the study, “We’re ready!”

Dad threw you a mysterious look as he stepped into Grandpa Bobby’s workspace, where he and Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam already stood lined up.

You noticed the camera set up on a strange construction.

Auntie Ellen and Uncle Sam smiled when they saw you.

“You don’t mind a small addition, do you, Ellen?” Dad asked, and Auntie Ellen shook her head.

“Of course not!” She smiled, and made space for you and Dad to stand next to her. He was still carrying you in his arms, supporting your weight with his hip.

“Alright, on the count of three, all smile in the camera!” Uncle Sam said.

“One, two, three!”

You giggled when Dad tickled your stomach. You wanted to see the picture right now, but Grandpa Bobby had told you it would take a while to develop.

Enveloped in bear hugs from Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam and Dad, to say goodbye to them, you finally agreed to go to bed.

“Dad?” You asked him, as he went to close the door behind him. Dad turned around and looked at you, snuggled into the warm blanket with your favorite stuffed animal under your arm.

“You’ll come back soon, right?”

Dad smiled at your words. “Of course I will, sweetheart. And Uncle Sam, and Auntie Ellen, and Jo. All of us.”

“You promise?”

Dad pressed a kiss into your hair.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. Sleep well.”

Even years later, Dean Winchester still carried an old photograph in his wallet, of a brunette mother, a blonde daughter, a father figure, and two brothers.

Though, one of them wasn’t looking at the camera, but rather at the small child he held on his side, his hand on her stomach as she blindingly smiled a carefree smile into the camera.

His own was dreamy as he watched her, and yes, for that moment, he dared to say, maybe even carefree as well.

༺ ｡ ° ୨❀୧ ° ｡ ༻

Now

Cass’s room was never quiet. Whether she was blasting music or playing guitar, singing her soul out in the shower or watching a move obnoxiously louder than it had to be.

Cass’s room was never quiet. Especially not as it was now.

The silver streams of light reaching through the window made her bedroom almost look so soft and inviting, as you stood there, observing, not quite in the hallway but not exactly in the room either.

It was macabre, what you saw. Not because the room looked so terrible, no, because it looked so … normal.

None of the bookshelves were tumbled over, or paper sprawled all across the floor.

The loose decoration items weren’t lying disheveled everywhere. No signs of a fight. A physical one.

The bed wasn’t made. Cass never did that.

The room looked so normal.

It looked so right.

So why wasn’t she?

“Y/N, sweetheart,” The sound of the familiar, comforting voice of Maria Whitlock reached your ears and made you slowly turn around.

Even through the blur of unshed tears in your eyes, you could make out the two familiar figures standing behind her.

“There’s someone here to talk to you.”

You blinked away the tears and caught Dean’s gaze, and for the first time since you had seen him again, his features looked so soft and merciful, towards you, it had the power to almost shatter your heart.

And you hated yourself for how much you wanted to be comforted by him, be held in his arms like the small child that once had been, only seeking safety with her-

“What are you doing here?” The question came out harsher than you had expected it to, almost an accusation. But neither Sam nor Dean did flinch at your tone.

“We wanted to talk to you.”

“Why?” It was obvious why. They knew, you knew, they knew you knew.

“I think you know about what,” Sam said, the softness in his voice grazing your stuttering heartbeat like a soft breeze.

Dean gestured in the direction of your room.

“In private.”

You didn’t want to speak alone to them. Then again, for the past almost-decade, it had been everything you could’ve wished for.

As you settled onto your bed, both Sam and Dean taking it upon themselves to find chairs to be comfortable, you felt like a small child again.

Looking at Dean, there was a familiarity that you needed, it was grounding, and you hated that it was. His presence, which had felt like home, and like safety for so long, being everything that you craved these past few days made your skin itch, because he still felt so right.

And you still felt so safe with him.

In a matter of seconds, you stood there and turned from a young woman into a small child, that wanted to throw herself in his arms and let him tell her that everything would turn out to be alright, because he was there, and he would look out for you. No matter what happened between the two of you, that had not changed, and you didn’t know what to think about it.

Sam was the first one to clear his throat. Of course he was.

“How are you feeling?”

Half-heartedly, because that was all you could muster right now, you raised an eyebrow at him. At least he had the decency to look a bit ashamed of his question.

“We’re sorry for your loss.”

Surprised, you turned your head to look at Dean. His green eyes were soft with sincerity.

“I don’t know how much she meant to you.” He glanced at Sam. “But I can imagine.”

You swallowed hard and looked back at your fumbling fingers again.

“Yeah, she was – she was great.” Your voice broke mid-sentence and you sniffled.

You cleared your throat. “Uhm, but – anyways, that’s not why you’re here. Am I right?”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, that could be regret as much as it could be pity, and then turned back to you.

“We’re sorry. But if we want to catch whatever is doing this, we need to have all the information,” Sam apologized.

You nodded. You already knew what they were going to ask, so you saved their time and jumped straight to the answers.

“There was nothing – unusual.” You rubbed your eyes. “She was okay just yesterday, she was- I helped her studying biology, we-“ You interrupted yourself.

Sam threw you another pitying look.

“Is there a chance she might’ve had nightmares too? You know, like Roy,” Dean asked you.

You threw your hand in the air. “Yeah, I guess,” you said. “Didn’t really think that much into it. You know, considering what happened.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheeks and gulped. “Right.”

It was quiet again. The brothers looked at each other one last time, before Sam stood up and fixed his suit jacket.

“Alright. We’re gonna leave you now.”

Please don’t.

You nodded.

Sam stretched his hand out to reach for you, but hesitated mid-air and pulled his arm back again.

“Whenever you need something,” Dean said meaningfully, before he stepped out the door, “Call us.” Call me.

You hummed absently.

The click of the lock drowned the bedroom in a deafening silence again.

—

Night came sooner than you thought it would. Sleep didn’t.

You thought, with the exhaustion that had been dragging down your bones all day long, it would only be a matter of time until exhaustion claimed you.

Without thinking about it, you grabbed your phone from your nightstand and opened up your chat with Finn.

With a sting in your heart, you realized that the last text conversation the two of you had had, had been more than a week ago.

Before all of this started.

Your keyboard clicked as you typed out the message.

hey

The answer came almost instantly.

Hey

can’t sleep either?

No

Your thumbs hovered over the buttons as you thought of what to type next.

I’m sorry we didn’t talk the entire day

It’s okay

It’s not like I came to see you either

would it be terrible to ask how you’re feeling?

Everyone’s been asking that

Oh, how you knew.

But to be honest

I don’t know

First Roy now Cass

Hasn’t reached my brain tbh

Feels more like a dream and I could wake up any second

I know what you mean

You paused for a moment, before you decided to send out the next text.

I’m still waiting for her to waltz into my room at 6 in the morning because she wants to get some mini donuts at breakfast before they’re all gone

You could practically hear the snickering laugh of Finn’s, as the icon told you he was typing out his next message.

Or letting my Alexa play the most random songs

I swear to God I’ve heard less sexual content in actual porn than that one Nicki Minaj song

first of all, it was cardi b, you pig, and

second that song is legendary

she was right to show it to you

A short while, you didn’t get an answer and you were almost afraid that Finn had either fallen asleep or that you had said something inappropriate, when the familiar ding made your screen light up.

We can catch up tomorrow

You know, maybe it would help us both

I know we haven’t been the same since all of this started, but I would really like us to be

Now more than ever

A heavy tug clamped around your heart at his words

you’re right

let’s talk tomorrow

Alright

Goodnight Y/N

good night finn

Sleep didn’t come in the first second after you plugged your phone on the charger, or even after you turned around to face the other wall.

But, as you laid on your back and felt the comforting arms of exhaustion grab after you, you had a feeling that it would’ve been worse if you had not talked to Finn.

—

Meanwhile, in the motel, Dean was slamming his third book this evening shut and tossed it onto the ever-growing pile of “absolute useless crap that nobody needed and was a total waste of time”. The name had been his idea.

Sam didn’t even look up as his brother stood up with a screeching from the wooden floor as he slid the chair back, and started pacing around the room.

“I hate this,” he mumbled under his breath.

“How is it even possible that, everywhere we look, there isn’t even the smallest hint at what we might be chasing?”

Demonstratively, he picks up a book from the pile they brought back from the library, and lets it fall on the desk again.

“Not to mention that we’re completely wasting our time here reading through this absolute crap, and we’ve got jack squat!”

The paper rustled as Sam turned another page.

“I already told you, Dean,” he muttered, eyes still concentrated on the faded ink of the book. “There was nothing online, so we had to go old-school.”

Dean kept muttering under his breath. “This is ridiculous.”

Sam rolled his eyes and placed a new book where his brother had been sitting a few minutes ago.

“If you want it to go faster and we can catch this thing, sit down and get to reading. Research doesn’t do itself.”

Dean was still cursing under his breath when he reached the second chapter.

—

The loud chatter of multiple conversations, accompanied by faint music playing in the background and the occasional clinking of glasses or beer bottles was an all too familiar mix of noises for you.

The light in the Roadhouse bar was still a warm-toned white, and the men and women all towered over you in lengths. Immediately, the feeling of home engulfed you.

You were looking around, searching for the familiar set of colorful crayons, where had your Auntie Ellen put them? You were bored and wanted to draw a pretty picture of the horse you had seen this morning.

Squeezing through the people, they all made way for you when they realized who wanted to get past them, you tried calling out for Auntie Ellen or Jo, but no tone left your throat.

A panicked feeling settled in your stomach.

Then, you spotted a tall figure just a few feet away from you. They were wearing a cool leather jacket and had their back turned to you.

You made your way over to them. You didn’t know why, but somehow you knew that this stranger could help you.

When you had almost reached them, they suddenly started moving and walked away. You wanted to cry after them, but you still couldn’t speak.

You moved your legs as fast as you could, running after them, but the people in the bar suddenly got more and more, always shoving and not making room for you anymore.

The person still hadn’t shown you their face, you could only see their back as you fought to get to them. Then, they walked through the door out of the Roadhouse.

With one last push, and a protesting yell that didn’t leave your throat, you rushed after them into the light.

With a creak, the Impala’s door swung open, and you shuffled your feet out of the car until they hit the gravel.

Dad had offered to open the door for you, but you were a big girl already, you could get out of the car on your own.

When you turned around to ask him what you were doing here, you faltered.

The Impala was gone. So was Dad. And Uncle Sam. You looked around, but they were nowhere to be found. Your breathing quickened as you realized that you were alone, somewhere you didn’t know, on stoney ground with only your bunny slippers. You didn’t even have your favorite stuffed animal with you!

“Hey, let’s go,” you suddenly heard a voice say, and turned around to see a girl with black hair stand in front of you.

Suddenly, as you had just been looking up to her, the two of you were now eye to eye. She just stared at you.

A name popped into your head.

Cass.

That’s weird. You knew a Cass. And then it hit you.

Your best friend. Roy, Finn, Cassandra. Sam and Dean.

But Cass was dead. She couldn’t be here. Looking around, you noticed that the scenery around you was blurry by the edges.

Weren’t you standing on a pathway just now? Why were you in a cafeteria?

This wasn’t real, none of it. It was a dream.

Harsh dread clawed itself into your heart like iced water. You had to get out of here. How did you get out of a dream?

You knew it, you had done this before, with your nightmares. You had to die.

You moved your feet, tried running away, but the floor wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried, you didn’t move an inch, it’s like you were stuck.

You began to panic. This couldn’t be, there had to be a way for you to get out.

The next thing you knew, you lost the ground beneath your feet, and everything was black. You were falling.

You felt your organs being lifted by the air pressing you up, felt your heart pump so hard you were afraid it would jump out of your chest.

There was nothing around, only darkness, only empty.

No, no, no.

You wanted to scream, but your vocal cords were cut. Not a sound escaped your lips.

You had to get out, if there was nothing around you, how could you die?

You screamed without a sound.

If this was your dream, why couldn’t you just shape it the way you wanted?

The next thing you knew, there was light around you, and you were running again.

“Dean, look at this.” Sam slammed a massive book under Dean’s nose, dangerously close to Dean’s freshly filled coffee. Reflexive, Dean pulled the cup a few inches away.

Sam placed his finger on one of the open pages of the book. “Here,” he said. “I think this could be it.” Dean leaned forward to read.

You had landed on a road, a highway, judging by the many cars around you. This time, you actually managed to run somewhere, even if a lot slower than you usually would. Like treading through water.

It felt like you were chasing something, but you didn’t know what it was.

“If this is really it,” Dean said, when he finished reading, “Then we have a big problem.”

You did your best to remember your original plan. Right now, you were on a stripe of green next to the busy road. You had to change that.

Sam nodded heavily. “We need to get to Saint George’s immediately.”

Sam grabbed his jacket, but Dean didn’t move an inch, still staring at the handwritten words on the old paper in front of him.

You used all your strength to tread to the left, where cars were rushing from both sides over the street.

“This thing basically feeds off of bad experiences, right?”

Sam nods.

It was a red car that did it. You saw it coming as you made a beeline over the highway. As you noticed the headlights speeding towards you, for a split second you asked yourself, “What if this isn’t a dream. What if this is real.” You didn’t feel the impact when the car hit you.

“Then that means-“ Dean’s head shot up so fast Sam feared his brother would get whiplash.

“Y/N,” Dean breathed out.

Your heart was still beating rapidly in your chest when you officially woke up. The memory of the nightmare was still rushing through your minds, pictures playing behind your eyelids.

You had a hard time breathing, your chest felt as if it was carrying a hard weight that caged in your lungs.

You forced open your eyes to get yourself a glass of water. You were met with two yellow glowing orbs staring right back at you, merely inches away from your face in the darkness of the room.

You couldn’t stop the terrified scream that erupted from your throat.

oooh guys, only one chapter to go! what are we thinking? do you have any ideas on what the monster could be? and what do we think about cass and finn? comments & reblogs are always appreciated, see y’all in the next part!

[vampireistic]

AVENTURINE CHARACTER ANALYSIS

★ with some aventio analysis too !

CW: this is aventurine we’re speaking about so; mentions of suicide, gambling, massive spoilers

ps. i’m a massive dumbass that still to this day doesn’t fully understand the penacony lore so i’ll most definitely miss things out, my bad.

Watching everyone around you die out while you are forced into living because of a God blessing you with their rainy tears really presents the duality between a blessing and a curse. Really makes you wonder if luck even existed or does experiencing constant suffering and finding a string of hope make you blind to the true nature of your condition. Are you truly fortunate, or are you merely trapped in a cycle of endless grief masked by moments of fleeting hope?

CHARACTER DESIGN

Aventurine’a design is a reflection of who he is; wealthy, confident, flamboyant and so on and so forth. More importantly, though, his design is meant to reflect his desire to be seen as well as his use as just a mere pawn. His design and character are very reminiscent that of peacocks (a design choice rather common with characters who gamble) — peacocks are known and praised for their distinctive beauty as well as their worth.

This also means that they’re a massive target for collectors meant to serve as a person’s trophy; a similar way as to how Aventurine is quite literally a slave, his extravagance meant to pale his vulnerability. This Sigonian trophy has now become a pawn for the Stonehearts (IPC), his design is almost like a branding for him (even more so than the actual mark on his neck), it’s a reminder that he’s going to forever remain someone else’s property. The collar around his neck is meant to serve as a similar reminder.

His lavish design could be seen as a way to distract from his lack of freedom. The more extravagant he appears, the more people focus on his outer beauty rather than the fact that he is, essentially, a prisoner.

HIS TRAUMA / LORE

Aventurine’s relationship with his family has always intrigued me. He absolutely loved them to his core, and they loved him completely back in turn; sounds rather perfect, right? But I can’t help but feel like them drilling into his head that he was the gem of their home, that he would bring them to victory even as a sole survivor — he was their lucky charm. Sure, at the time it probably didn’t mean too much since he was a child and understood that these were words said in desperate times, but now as he’s older? Those words haunt him once again — I mean, it’s literally one of the many reasons he has survivors guilt.

It was actually a little difficult to categorise Aventurine into an attachment style (a template for how a child will most likely act like in the future) because his relationship with his family isn’t really shown all too specifically, or at least specifically enough to understand how he truly feels about them. All I can go off of is his devotion, therefore I can vaguely assume he would have an avoidant attachment style.

Given the way he was treated as someone “treasured” or “superior”, Aventurine has developed avoidant tendencies as a way to cope with the pressure and isolation of his status. He might distance himself emotionally from others, preferring to maintain a facade of independence and self-reliance rather than risk vulnerability.

"Maybe luck won't be on your side this time, and the bill for all your past good fortune will come due."

Finally, the person in front of him turns around. The distant skyscraper reflects a kaleidoscope of colors like an opal stone, while a music box plays on its own.

"But isn't that what you've been longing for?"

────────────────────────

This man is quite literally so suicidal. Pretty obvious, I think anyone could pick that up from the fact he outwardly admits in the Penacony quest that he “attempted multiple times” in the dream world, which of course led to nothing. He’s so desperate, weak, and afraid. He’ll try anything even if he knows the final outcome is more than likely futile.

As soon as he’s allowed a little bit of freedom, his first instinct is to off himself. Perhaps that’s also just a showcase that he cannot handle the idea of his own autonomy and that’s unfortunately quite common with victims of abuse; when given freedom, they don’t understand what to do with it. It’s like freeing an orphaned deer from an animal trade…whats it’s use now that it doesn’t have anyone controlling it?

Aventurine’s duality may be a form of dissociation, a psychological coping mechanism where he separates his true self from the persona he has been forced to adopt. The “peacock” persona becomes a mask that he wears, allowing him to navigate a world where he is constantly objectified and used.

However, despite his innate survivors guilt and this want for an escape, he refuses to actually die without trying to avenge his home.

────────────────────────

Immediately after gaining a sense of agency and somewhat power, he seeks for some form of closure. He’s obviously still very determined, in this way, he’s regaining that form of liberty by using his new role to his advantage despite it clearly weighing the IPC down (that alone is purposeful, he’s a pawn for them because it’s also convenient for him).

RELATIONSHIPS (slash aventio :3)

Now I utterly hate Jade — to me, she feels like a very lazily written antagonist/villainous character, and even if she had good aspects to her, it’s completely overshadowed by the fact she’s clearly marketed as just another “dom mommy” (believe me i cringed there too). One thing I’ll praise her for is the relationship she creates with the other Stoneheart’s members — it’s disgustingly manipulative and I love it.

To Jade, Aventurine and Topaz are two sides of the same coin, similar yet vastly different. Both of them are of course beneficial to the IPC, yet if a moment arose to be replaced, she wouldn’t hesitate to backstab Aventurine over Topaz, he’s a speck of dirt on their shoulders and too much of a burden.

More specifically; the only way Jade cares For Aventurine is the same way you’d care for a weapon, you wouldn’t want it to get damaged but there’s always the option to replace it if it does. Have you seen that post where it, to simplify, stated “love but in the way a wolf loves the sheep it herds”, that’s basically the entire dynamic between all the Stoneheart’s, however it’s evident Aventurine is a black lamb.

Outside of Aventurine’s acquaintances of convenience born purely from the notion of gaining something in return, Aventurine truly has one person who’s willing to stick to his dumbassery through thick and thin: Dr Ratio.

Firstly, these two clearly mimic the dynamic between Kaveh and Alhaitham and I find myself slowly just loving their trope even more heavily — a man who thrives off the intangible for the sake of success with a man who’s entire life focuses on logic, reason and book smarts. Throughout the entire segment where the pair are about to meet with Sunday and commit to the most dramatic ass lion king esque betrayal scene, Dr Ratio is cautious. He has to make this betrayal look real, so he maintains this facade of indifference with all the quips and comments Aventurine says.

He does everything for the sake of Aventurine. This man quite literally can’t look at Aventurine after he plays the part of a betrayer because he can’t imagine himself actually doing such a thing. Does he trust Aventurine? Yeah, sure, but he still leaves Aventurine with a heartfelt note that he specified he should read in his last moments:

“Do stay I alive. I wish you the best of luck.”

Dr Ratio is one of the first people to acknowledge Aventurine’s vulnerability and doesn’t exploit it, instead choosing to console him. In a way, it’s actually a little sweet that Dr Ratio thought of a scenario where Aventurine’s godly luck ran out, it shows he views him as a person who’s gained the knowledge he has, and not just a pawn who’s been polished into a gem.

cute dividers: strangergraphics

art: amosprinz

this is a little less analytical and more so rambly than i would’ve preferred, but i also just wanted to give people the opportunity to yap and talk about aventurine and the penacony lore in general. feel free to share whatever thoughts you have on this d(^_^o)

[dabiscrustytoe]

I love Hizashi ( Present Mic) so much, he's one of the many loud blonds I love

But OMG he needs to learn to take care of himself

Spoilers if you're not too far in the show or manga

The way he cares more about Shota than he does about himself is just ... Shota is literally his entire coping mechanism since the incident with Oboro but after that Shoat became a lot more closed off and avoidant of anything social. Hizashi doesn't even let himself grieve at times because he's more worried about how Shota is doing.

Shota needs to pay more attention to Hizashi and stop shutting him down because Hizashi, if he has the chance will definitely become incredibly soft and loving. Instead of Shota opening up to him and Hizashi opening up to Shota, this dumbass vampire caterpillar has to keep being an emotionally closed off jerk to this poor banana haired bean

Read between the lines of this and tell me this isn't Shota being closed off and refusing to get close to Hizashi.

And that brings me to another thing I'm pretty sure Shota doesn't want to get close to Hizashi or others, or even care about others because he doesn't want to get hurt again like he did with Oboro.

These too need to open up to each other about this crap and work through it cause if they do they would be the strongest god damn power couple in the world

If you made it all the way through my rant about this congratulations 👏🎉

Have some random MHA and erasermic shit

[doumadono]

Emergency request: I woke up with an anxiety attack, feeling terrible, I'm going through a very hard time in my life, as you may know. how Bakugo, Shoto, and Midoriya would comfort their significant other in this situation? What would they do if their significant other feels nauseous and becomes emotional?

A/N: I'm really sorry to hear that you're going through such a tough time. Remember that you're not alone in this journey – I'm here to support you every step of the way. It's completely okay to have difficult moments, and you're doing the best you can. If you ever want to talk or need a listening ear, know that I'm here to listen without judgment. You're stronger than you realize, and I believe brighter days are ahead. Sending you lots of love and positivity to help you through this challenging period 💕

MASTERLIST

Bakugo

Bakugo may seem rough around the edges, but he's surprisingly attentive when it comes to his significant other's well-being. He'd notice the signs of your anxiety even before you mention it, and, although he's not the best with words, his actions speak volumes.

He'd offer a tight hug, allowing you to bury your face in his chest. "Hey, you're not alone in this, idiot. I've got your back."

Bakugo's determination to make you feel better might lead him to research anxiety management techniques or show you some of his own methods for coping with stress.

He'd encourage you to let out your emotions, saying, "If you need to yell, scream, or just vent, do it, little moron. It'll help you get rid of those fucking emotions you're holding back."

If tears come, he'd awkwardly hand you tissues and mutter, "Quit crying, dumbass." But his eyes would soften, and he'd stay close by, giving you space to let it out.

During moments of nausea, he'd prepare simple and nourishing meals, then present them with an exaggerated "Eat up, it's good for you."

One evening, after a particularly long and challenging day of training, you start to show signs of exhaustion. Your shoulders slump, and your voice wavers as you express your frustration. "I just… I can't believe how tough today was," you admit, your voice tinged with weariness.

Bakugo's initial response is predictable – a scowl and an impatient sigh. "Stop whining," he grumbles, crossing his arms.

But as you continue to talk, Bakugo's annoyance begins to wane. He watches you closely, the crease in his brow slowly smoothing out. He can see the toll the day has taken on you, and his heart unexpectedly softens. "Look," he says, his voice slightly less harsh, "I get it. Training's been a pain in the ass lately. But you're not alone in this." He shifts his weight uncomfortably, his usual bravado faltering just a bit. "I'm… dealing with the same crap, you know? There are days when things get rough for me – yeah, even I have those moments. And, fuck it, I've dealt with some anxiety crap too. I know it might sound dumb coming from me, but I get it. Life throws crap at us, and it doesn't matter how tough we think we are. But you, you've got this. I've seen you handle your own shit, and you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

You look up at him, surprised by the admission. Bakugo's gaze meets yours, and he looks away for a moment, his cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "So, just, well, don't give up, you little idiot. We'll get through this together, yeah?"

Later that night, as you two lie in bed, you turn to him. "You know," you say softly, "it's okay to get emotional sometimes. Even for you."

Bakugo huffs, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, little moron. Just don't go telling everyone."

A small smile plays at the corners of your lips. "I won't. It'll be our little secret."

Shoto

Shoto's calm and composed nature would provide a soothing presence during your anxiety attack. He'd gently take your hand and lead you to a quiet and comfortable space.

"Focus on your breath. In and out. I'm here with you," he'd reassure, his voice steady and reassuring.

Shoto might share personal experiences of dealing with difficult times, letting you know that you're not alone in facing challenges.

He'd hold your hair back as you feel nauseous and need to vomit, rubbing your back soothingly. "Take your time, and don't hesitate to let me know if there's anything you need, Y/N."

Shoto's patience and empathy would shine as he listens to your emotions, providing a safe space for you to express yourself.

If you become emotional, Shoto would gently wipe away your tears with his thumb, his touch warm and comforting. "It's alright to let it out," he'd say softly.

One evening, after a particularly demanding day, you show signs of being overwhelmed. You let out a deep sigh and run a hand through your hair, your tension evident. "It's been a really tough day," you admit, your voice tinged with fatigue.

Shoto's initial response is to sit beside you, his presence calming. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder and gives a small nod. "I'm here," he says softly. "Take your time."

As you begin to talk about challenges, Shoto listens attentively, his dual-colored gaze unwavering. He offers a sense of understanding through his presence, allowing you to share your feelings without judgment. "I can see how much you've been through," he says, his voice steady. "But remember, you're strong, and you're capable of overcoming this."

Later that night, as you wind down, you look at him and says, "You know, it's okay to express your emotions too. Even if you're the calm one, darling."

Shoto's lips quirk into a small smile. "I appreciate that," he replies, his voice soft. "But sometimes, it's easier to understand others' emotions than my own."

Midoriya

Midoriya's compassionate nature would make him very attuned to your feelings. He'd approach you gently, offering a warm smile.

"It's okay to feel this way, but remember, it won't last forever. We'll work through it together," he'd say, his voice full of sincerity.

He might share motivational stories or quotes to uplift your spirits and remind you of your inner strength.

When nausea strikes, he'd prepare a cup of herbal tea and guide you in taking slow sips. "This should help settle your stomach."

Midoriya would hold your hand, offering comfort and understanding as you express your emotions. "You're not alone in this, and I'm here for you every step of the way."

Izuku would offer a warm hug when emotions rise, his embrace gentle yet full of support. "You're stronger than you realize," he'd whisper.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day at school, you start to show signs of being overwhelmed. You let out a frustrated sigh and slump onto the couch, your shoulders tense with stress. "Today was just… really tough," you admit.

Midoriya's initial reaction is to sit down beside you, his expression full of concern. "I'm sorry to hear that," he replies, his voice gentle. "Do you want to talk about it, Y/N?"

As you open up about your struggles and anxiety attack you experienced, Midoriya listens intently, offering a comforting presence. He nods along, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy. "I can imagine how challenging that must have been for you," he says, his words sincere. "I know it's not easy, but you're strong," he adds, a small smile tugging at his lips. "And you're not alone in this, baby."

Later that evening, as you prepare to turn in for the night, you wrap your arms around him from behind, saying, "You know, it's okay to talk about your emotions too. Even heroes like you have tough days, right? So next time you'll have a hard time, don't hesitate to open up to me, okay?"

Midoriya's gaze softens, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you for understanding," he replies, his voice warm. "Indeed, even heroes need a shoulder to lean on sometimes."

[clownholemcfannywhistle]

Stardew Valley bachelor headcanons for when they realize they've fallen for you (gender inclusive)

Alex

His first impression of you?

Something along the lines of, "Oh wow, that new farmer is eye candy."

Or if you're male or more masculine-presenting, probably something like, "Whoa, I don't know why, but I wanna be close to them."

And if you're very androgynous or your presentation is very fluid, the poor boy has an identity crisis.

Cue him having an awkward talk with his grandpa about how to make more friends (Alex ain't talking about being "just friends," but George doesn't know that.)

Evelyn, however, can tell pretty easily that he definitely has feelings for someone, but she doesn't know who, at least not right away.

Before you rolled into town, Alex was always very dedicated to his dream of becoming a gridball champion.

But after? He'd make sure to stay outside longer than before.

He's not super self-aware about why he has this urge to show off, especially if you might catch a glimpse of him.

"I don't know who I am. I don't know why I'm here. All I know is that I must keep the farmer's eyes on me." -Alex, probably.

He flexes and trains extra hard when you're nearby.

Sure, he may be a little standoffish sometimes at first, but that's because he doesn't want to be too distracted from his career goal.

But of course, sooner or later, you're always taking up a portion of his mind.

It was honestly refreshing to have someone genuinely believe in him and take an interest in his goals.

For the longest time, he also thought that he was "playing it cool" around you when he was actually just a bit rude.

It took his grandma gently scolding him for acting like a high schooler for him to realize how cocky he had been acting.

I mean, bless his heart, but he's a dumbass.

He apologizes to you and is grateful when you stick by his side.

Also, in my own personal imagination, if you're female, let's say that he actually grows a pair and apologizes for the sexism specifically.

But the "official" moment he falls for you is just after you find him crying about his late mother on the beach.

He honestly expected you to make fun of him for being so vulnerable, but you comfort him and offer him some appreciated words of advice.

After this event, he can finally gain the self-awareness that, holy shit, he has a crush on you.

Evelyn has also figured out that it's you he's crushing on, at this point.

She doesn't have a talk with him about it, so as not to embarrass him, but she does tell him that he can invite you over for dinner and cookies a lot more.

And if you mention that you like being there, she says that you're basically a part of the family at this point and looks at Alex and does *eyebrows eyebrows* and he's madly blushing, because he knows she knows.

I feel like, for a little while, if Alex was somewhat flirting with you before, he eases up on it a bit because he realizes that he's actually caught feelings.

Flirting just hits different when you're actually more vulnerable to rejection because you're in love.

That's right, the bravado was kind of an act. Partially as a coping mechanism to keep himself motivated despite having a dad who tried to bring him down.

But he can let his guard down around you, and when he does... c'mon, he's a fucking sweetie.

He trusts you not to make fun of him when he lets his softer side out, so you'll start seeing it more.

He would absolutely be winning you stuffed animals from the claw machine game at the movie theater, taking you out to eat, playfully roughhousing with you (and if he pins you down, he'd just bite your nose softly and let you go), and asking you to go to the beach with him a lot (not just to see you in a bathing suit anymore :))

He's totally not dropping heavy hints that he likes you because that's easier than just outright confessing...

Elliott

Okay, I'm not a big Elliott fan, but for the sake of this being wholesome, I won't make him a disgusting caricature of himself lol.

Let's be real, this is a man who believes in love at first sight.

(I personally don't, but I do think that there can be attraction and curiosity at first sight, which is what I think he's experiencing!)

He's so honest with himself about his feelings, like this man is confident that he finds you attractive.

Also I think he's probably confidently bi.

The minute he meets you, he's shaking your hand and acting a little more friendly and welcoming that he would for someone who... isn't as attractive, haha.

Don't you see how kind and approachable he is? He hopes you do.

The night he meets you, he goes home and writes about it in his diary lmao.

"Dear diary, today I met the most captivating individual..."

He spends some more time outside than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse of you or even have a conversation.

He can't help it; you're interesting and he's dying to know what's going on inside your mind!

As soon as he's reasonably confident that you won't be cruel and that he's not asking too much of you, he'll show you his works in progress and ask you what you think.

Say he has an ego, but he wants to show off his best skill!

The more you interact with him, the harder he falls for you.

He spends his evenings sighing dramatically and writing love poems in his journal that he's not ready to share.

Either that, or he's at the saloon, laying his head on a table and talking Leah's ear off about his crush. He won't outright say it's you, but if she happens to see the way he acts when you're around, it's painfully obvious.

He might be a little... over the top, with how he tries to be chivalrous.

(I mean, have you seen the way he demands Gus fetch him and the farmer a drink after smoothly bragging about his "eight hour writing session"??)

But if that's endearing to you, and you actually flirt back with him, he's such a mess. I'm talking blushing, sweating, and then apologizing for the way his body is reacting, haha.

Even if you're married to him, he keeps up the charade that he's the one human in the world who doesn't fart, smh.

Harvey

I feel like, because he's a little more reserved at first, it takes him a little while to realize he's fallen for you.

He can't even think of people as being attractive if he doesn't know what their personality is like.

Demisexual? Maybe a little.

Another confidently bi dude.

But probably at your first checkup, if you express being nervous...

His heart flutters, and he gets an overwhelming urge to reassure you that he's there to help.

I mean, that's what he'd do for any of his patients, so he's not quite sure why he has this urge to be particularly comforting to you...

And that time you catch him doing dance aerobics??

He's soooo embarrassed. Like, if anyone were to find out, he'd rather it be Haley than you, honestly.

If you reassure him that you won't tell anyone and that doing dance aerobics isn't nearly as embarrassing as he thinks it is, he gets that fluttery feeling in his chest again.

I think that that's when the thought first occurs to him that he might have a thing for the farmer.

He tries to dismiss the thought immediately, but just thinking about that being a possibility has his face so hot, his glasses are fogging up.

I know it's been said before, but he would be pining.

A lot more absent-minded at work, to the point where Maru would catch him staring off into space, blushing, and gently kicking his feet frequently enough to wonder if he's got a crush on someone.

Once he finally realizes without a shadow of a doubt that he like likes you, he's just so flustered every time he sees you lol.

Like, you come into his office, and he drops his muffin, hits his head on the counter when he tries to pick it up, and then stumbles backwards, stepping on the muffin.

I mean, his anxiety flares up bad. Too bad he's miserable, because it's so adorable.

He also starts keeping his apartment even cleaner than usual. Not sure if he believes you'd spontaneously come over or if he has an imaginary audience complex...

Not going to lie, I think he also keeps a diary. And he starts writing about you in it probably every day once he realizes he's in love.

So babygirl.

I think he'd be overthinking about the possible ethical consequences/moral implications of confessing to you, so if you get together at all, you're making the first move, hun.

Once you officially become a couple, he's constantly worrying about coming across as too eager or forward, so he deals with that in private in his own... special way.

(Maru: Harvey, you've already doodled your and the farmer's wedding invitation!

Harvey: No, that's our joint tombstone!)

We love our bespectacled Luigi.

(Bonus points if you got the two Brooklyn Nine-Nine references I sprinkled in here lol.)

Sam

Like Alex, I feel like he's not the most self-aware guy on this list.

He sees you, and he's like, "Whoa! I don't know why, but I really wanna be good friends with this person!"

So he follows that impulse without questioning it, the little ADHDiva.

He just wants to show you everything! He wants you to know about his hobbies, his job, his family, and he's real curious to know if you've got anything in common with him.

Not to say he'd be oversharing, at least not on purpose and not often, lol. He may be impulsive, but he understands boundaries.

I honestly think it would take Sebastian pointing out how chummy he is with you for him to realize that he's got a crush.

Also, if you're a dude/male-presenting, he'd probably have a brief moment of awakening.

"Wow, I might be pan. Huh. ...I'm gonna go eat at least four pieces of bubblegum and an MnM I found on the floor."

The realization doesn't make him spiral like Alex lol.

But then he kinda realizes that, looking back, he's definitely caught feelings for people of every gender under the sun.

I feel like he probably channels his feelings and passion into his music.

He writes songs about you, without directly saying they're about you, but Sebastian and Abigail know they're about you.

I feel like you'd be walking by when he's practicing his skateboard tricks, and he'd say, "This one's for you, farmer!" and then fail the kickflip and land on his butt.

You'd both laugh about it once you make sure he's okay.

His butt would lowkey become an inside joke haha.

You could teasingly ask him if the scrape on his butt is in the shape of an L, and he'd giggle childishly about it for days.

I think he'd be asking his mom if he could invite you over for dinner a lot more frequently.

Jodi would catch on and probably give him a talk about safe sex, to which he'd blush and whine that he's not a teenager.

Since Sam is such an open book, there's no doubt in my mind that Vincent knows about his crush.

I bet Vincent accidentally tells on him during a family dinner with you, too, lmao.

Out of the blue, he'd pipe up and say, "When you and the farmer get married, will they be my big sibling, too?"

When.

Poor Sammy would choke on his appy juice/Joja cola (he probably hasn't drank plain water in six years) and try to play it off as Vincent just saying nonsense.

Later, when you're hanging out with Sam, he'd try to be smooth about it.

"Haha... Vincent is such a stinker... But, y'know, it would be funny if we actually got together to humor him...?"

Please don't reject him, he's totally pouring his heart out to you right now ;-;

Sebastian

He likes to appear stoic and act like a lone wolf.

But I think the moment he sees you, his heart is going BA-DUM, BA-DUM

Like, he thinks you're hot from the get-go, but he's still pretty reserved.

So if he's at the saloon with Sam and Abigail and you walk by, he literally just says, "Hi, farmer."

And the minute you're out of earshot, Abi and Sam are teasing him and laughing. "Wow, keep it in your pants, Seb!" "Yeah, you basically just threw yourself at them!"

His ears get all hot from the teasing and he has to go excuse himself to take a smoke break lmao.

I think he's known he's bi/pan for a while now.

I mean, look at him and tell me he's not at least half a twink, hehe.

Outwardly, he's not very emotionally expressive.

But inwardly, he has a mini heart attack when you talk to him.

He tries to be as cool as a cucumber, but he gets pretty anxious around you and can accidentally come across as standoffish.

I bet he's, like, really socially awkward, especially with strangers.

He gets so fidgety around you and he's always bouncing his leg.

He tries not to smoke around you, until he's sure that you wouldn't judge him for it, but that makes him stressed and so he wants to smoke even more.

Poor baby is so awkward, hehe.

Like Sam pushes him into you, and he's quietly apologizing and then saying, "Uh, sorry, I'm, uhh... late to... leave..." and speed-walking away.

Sam facepalms and later, he's like, "Dude, what was that??"

Abigail just goes ahead and makes a group chat with the four of you, which is such a smart move.

When he's talking to you in person, he's so baby and he doesn't know what to do with his hands.

But in the group chat, you actually get to see how funny he is, and his personality shines through.

You guys even start texting privately, and he's always sending you music, memes, animal pictures, and funny videos.

This is how he flirts.

He's like your best friend through the screen, but has no clue how to act in person.

Don't get me wrong, he'd love to hang out with you in person. He's just so damn anxious.

I feel like once you get to be good friends with him, he'd be super clingy and get nervous if you take more than a few hours to text him back.

Which, of course it does, you're super busy with the farm and running errands for villagers.

Eventually, it would either come down to you confessing to him or him being high at 3:00 a.m. and leaving you a series of long, rambling voicemails about how he misses you and is really into you.

Shane

Look, if you read my recent very unwholesome Shane nsfw fic, I'll still stand by the idea I wrote in there that he'd glance up from his beer, think you're hot, but assume he has no chance with you.

He knows he's not relationship material, at least not when you first meet him.

And even if he was, he gets defensive when he thinks people are trying to pity him or treat him like he needs a babysitter.

Like bro is positive that Emily just feels sorry for him, and that causes tension between them sometimes.

But even if you keep pestering him, he'll start to think fondly of you as long as you aren't a total goody-two-shoes.

Enemies to drinking buddies to friends to lovers???

But yeah, drink with him once and he'll be like, "Okay, they're actually not half bad."

Actually validate him and show up for him non-judgmentally?

I'm sorry to my fellow Shane lovers, but I'm pretty sure he'd fall for the first person who doesn't treat him like he's a burden.

Especially if that person is more female-presenting.

It'll take him a little longer to figure out that he's in love with you if you're a dude.

Poor baby, having his sexual awakening in his thirties.

I feel like he also tries vehemently to deny the notion that he might be falling for you, regardless of your gender, because he doesn't want it to be true.

Like, his only real friend in the valley? Of course he's not going to screw that up by confessing to you.

What if you think he's a creep and never want to talk to him again if he does?

He may not show it, but babygirl is overthinking.

He's kind of under the assumption that if he just shoves these feelings down deep, they'll go away. After all, it's just a fleeting crush, right?

(It isn't.)

Once he starts seeing a therapist, I think they'd inform him not to shove his feelings down deep and just talk about them either in session or with a friend.

They'd also probably tell him something like "risk is a part of life, don't let fear hold you back from living, I know this farmer is really special to you but even if they reject you, you've still proven that you can work on yourself and if you want a partner in the future, you can be confident that you wouldn't be a burden on them, and having a relapse doesn't erase your progress..."

Yadda yadda yadda.

(Can you tell how much therapy I've been through)

I feel like if he confesses first, it would either be after a really bad lapse when he's crying and really drunk...

But more likely, he'd be tipsy and do something impulsive.

Like giving you a quick smooch when the Tunnelers score.

He panics about that retroactively, but he'll be over the moon if you reciprocate his feelings at all.

[onlyancunin]

Little update again for anyone interested, bc I'm overflown with emotions.

Ok, so I did it.

In a single week, found a new place, packed my things (or at least the majority, some stuff is still waiting to be sorted and transported) and moved in to my condo.

I hurt my knee again and walk on crutch, my hands are so sore I barely slept this night and I had approximately 27 nervous breakdowns in the past two days, but I'm here, I'm queer and I'm ready to do some Astarion fan art now that nobody lurks over my shoulder in attempt to be controlling.

And jesus. I woke up today with my body absolutely useless after what I put it through while packing, and yet so... Serene? I literally cried out of exhaustion, relief, gratitude and what not.

And to think just 3 months ago I was deeply suicidal and drinking like crazy to cope. Always either with headphones or with earplugs to soothe my nerves and keep myself together, barely present in my own life and resenting it and myself. But here? I enjoy the silence or even occasional sound of my neighbors being present. I unpacked yesterday for hours without the need to overwhelm my brain with podcasts just to stop it from spiraling out. Because it didn't want to spiral out, I was at peace despite cursing a few times bc I'm a dumbass and forgot idle pc needs some activity to wake it up and I thought it got damaged while transporting 🤠

Thank you @herdarkestnightelegance , who supported me through the whole process and was there for me to pick me up and help me to keep going. The best thing that came out of this entire thing is your friendship. It's so nice to know someone cares enough to be happy for you. This is a gift, you know. I won't forget it.

And thank you everyone for your words of support and care, every single one. After months of being isolated and numb it's nice to see the world still wants me here.

Gosh I think I need to cry some more, a nice little emotional workout before work.

Have a great Monday everyone! 🖤

[abbysbasement]

ABBY ‘WAR MACHINE’ ANDERSON

—short thoughts

• A honey girl, always keeps a summer tan, usually from working out on the quad all day. Practically glowing all of the time and the girls are insane about it.

• Sorry, the braid is dead. Only ever really wears it on the rugby field, and when she’s walking around campus, her hair is usually down, or up in a bun and held back with a sweatband. Whatever mental image you’re conjuring in your mind, it’s correct. Even that one.

• Her father is the country’s premier neurosurgeon, and he’s donated a lot of money to Jackson University. A library there, a faculty building there, even refurbishing the rugby field for the season. He practically gives a blank check each year, and because of this, consequences don’t really exist for Abs and she gets away with any and everything. The reason why she has an air fryer in her dorm and the RAs pretend like they don’t see it.

• Proud community strap. Was notorious freshman year for having a rotating cycle of girlfriends and side pieces. ‘Those are not healthy coping mechanisms, Abby.’ Her therapist says, but is there really any better way to ease your mind that slipping deep into a warm body, tight and soft and wet? No, probably not.

• Has the prettiest smile, smiles with her eyes, always so charming with plump, kissable lips. Has perfect teeth, never missed a dentist appointment and gets check ups religiously. Had braces in the 10th grade and when she had her first kiss with a girl she cut her lip and it bled all down her mouth. She probably fainted idk.

• Girl himbo (I know what I said.) butch himbo? Butchbo? Actually super smart and well read, majoring in animal science to become a vet tech. Spends a lot of her time in the school library, when she’s not on the field, or at a party, or in a stranger’s bed. Or in her own bed, nursing a hangover, whatever’s more common.

• Still roommates with Manny since freshman year. Originally she got set up with Leah, who then of course wanted to room with her boyfriend, who was conveniently dorming with Manny. A little form-filling here, some schmoozing there, a little ‘my dad owns this school’ over yonder and it was a match made in heaven. Nobody has a deeper, more intimate connection than a butch lesbian and her boy best friend.

• Terribly afraid of needles. She can’t pinpoint specifically what she has against them but they inspire the same nausea in her that heights do, so when she can she steers clear of them. In a turn of drunken, reckless events, Manny convinced her to get her ears pierced, because pretty girls love stud earrings, obviously. By the time the piercer did one ear, Manny had to carry her out of the parlor because she had COMPLETELY passed out.

• Between classes and practice, she forgot to clean her piercing and her ear got infected. She had two large-scale mental breakdowns; the first when she woke up leaking and burning from her ear, which had already sucked the metal halfway into the flesh, and the second, when her dumbass roommate said, “it’s okay, man. I have pliers, I can pull it out for you and then you’re good as new.” She almost threw up.

• The great piercing debacle of ‘21 ended in her calling up her dad, bawling, because she didn’t know what to do, Manny sitting on the couch listening to her freak the fuck out in the bathroom. “This is what happens when you put foreign objects into your body, Abs.” He chided, as *another* needle was plunged into her skin —local anesthetic— before he sliced open her earlobe with a scalpel.

• The proud driver of a cherry-red enclosed Jeep Wrangler, fully paid off by her dad as a highschool graduation gift, an upgrade from the white Audi she got as a 16th birthday present. She gets it rewrapped every six months —the ice blue was real popular with the ROTC girls, the olive green got the environmental club girls out of their panties, the red and black is a pretty good catch-all— (school colours, by the way!)

• Gets her car detailed once every two weeks, the back seat has those mud mats laid down. they’re not for mud.

• Retired horse girl, ALMOST got a pony for her fourteenth birthday! Then, shit happened… and she didn’t get the pony for her fourteenth birthday.

• Loves revenge and power plays, actually! It’s her specialty at this point😚 Got into some medium-tier beef with some dickhead on campus, and somehow his mouth got ahead of him and ended with her being branded as the town’s bulldyke. Interestingly enough, the day didn’t end in Anderson-typical violence. Instead, as one does, she trailed him home one day, borrowing Nora’s black sedan for recon. Just for field research, obviously!

• In the interest of honesty, Abs was definitely planning on stealing the wheels off of his car, or putting bleach in his gas tank, —sugar is a myth, just so you know— until she saw the most beautiful creature strolling out of the house and into a white SUV. Then, her plan changed for absolute scorched-earth total destruction, to an excruciating slow-burn.

• The next week, while shopping at the grocery store which she totally didn’t drive 30 minutes out of her way to go to, she had her first meet cute, coincidentally, with a gorgeous 40-something that just so happened to be some asshole’s mom.

• Before she knew it, she was fucking her on every surface in her house, —artfully furnished, great feng-shui— the kitchen, the bathroom, her marital bed, the couch, essentially the full tour, until they got to her son’s bedroom. Kept a mental note, and when she excused herself to the bathroom she probably erased all of the little shit’s PlayStation saves, too.

• When you start fucking a guy’s mom, it changes you. Your wardrobe especially. Including an arsenal of completely coincidental, just for fun slogan tees, with hits like “I ❤️ HOT MOMS!” “PROMOTED TO DADDY” and a personal favourite, “MAN, I LOVE FISHING!”

* And of course, she comes back to campus fresh off of a 3 hour stint of eating out a woman twice her age, to greet her new best friend with a smile and a, “Hey, your mom makes a good apple fritter! Dessert was fuckin’ greaaat, too! Practically finger lickin’ :)”

* CEO of revenge, comedically evil.

[omi-papus]

I realized that Robin inngame becomes infinitly more tolerable and fun if you just think of her as kind of a dumbass. Like ok listen I dont know what the fuck is up with her voice lines. Like hers specifically. Everyone elses dialogue is pretty alright and even great. But something about Robin just does not click. Shes presented as this badass, marvel esque strong female character tm. Not to an unberable degree. Shes fine. But I feel like when I first played I only tolerated Robin when Al-An was stuck to her, because she would bring interesting things out of him. And it felt off sometimes. The worst bit Id say is, "How do humans cope with the loss of memories? Like forgeting someones birthday?" Like girl, this is clearly some existencial shit this man is on, get a grip.

Now, everytime I play and she says some shit like that, I go, "Sure sweetie. You go do that" And thats what got me to like her. Like to just think shes as a person is just out of touch as fuck actually makes sense with everything a lot more. Like yhea shed yeet herself into an alien planet with no way out just to comfirm a suspicion because she dosent like a company and cant accept the idea someone she loves isnt a perfect angel. All her brain holds is plant facts, you think she can make good choices? Yhea shed really just recite poetry to an alien expecting him to understand, without even knowing the damn thing in full. Girl is 90% pure unfiltered emotion and cant explain abstract concepts worth shit. Homegirl will really meet an alien thats like, "I wont explain who I am or my intentions but get me out of her real quick" and INSTANTLY be like "Bet, get your ass in this iPad". (Granted she didnt want to go as far as she did with the whole brain situation and she was rushed but still, not even panic.) Shed be the friend that everyone goes to when thyre in truble, because shell agree to murder without asking question if she digs your vibe. OF COURSE Robin will genuenly unpromted go "Hey that new body of yours in kind of making me feel something, Imma just give you the rest of my life and follow you into the void of space, leaving everything else behind k?" Bitch has never had a plan in her life, you think shes going to start now? She sees some alien ass and all else is irrelevant.

It also works with the gameplay, cause like idk about you but in Below Zero it felt like everything was yelling, "Hey, you have 30 seconds of oxigen. How about you go into that cave at the bottom of the ocean floor I bet theres cool shit in there." And sure enough I did.

And like, you have any idea how little self preservation biologists can have? Robin is the girl that will lick the frog to test if its poisonous, shes the one that does the pain tests for insect bites. She can and will manhandle a hipo because she wants to see the inside of its mouth.

This is so not what the game intended but I love waterlogged brain Robin and I will deny canon til the end of days.

[ghostfacetheballfondler]

Gonna send these as full questions and not just emojis bc ik its annoying to keep looking back to answer them lmao :3

💛 - Let's hear an opinion that is either unpopular in the community or not talked about at all in the community!

🤍 - Do you have any other disorders or neurodivergencies? Do they affect how you experience NPD?

💝 - Tell me something interesting about yourself!

💖 - Are there any characters, shows, songs, etc that are NPD moods?

🫀 - Do you have any misdiagnoses or other disorders that therapists originally thought your NPD presented as?

🦷 - Do you have any stories about your experience with the medical field that are funny, interesting, or frustrating that you'd like to tell?

❤️‍🩹 - What coping skills, tips, tricks, or therapy techniques have you found most helpful?

ty for the ask

💛 - unpopular opinion? uhhhh fuck this is hard. i'm super conflicted on recovery for my npd. like on one hand yes this is hurting me but on the other hand "i am not giving up my superiority complex so i can live a lie" (that "lie" is that i'm *not* superior to 99% of people, lol). so would i like healthy coping mechanisms? of course. but idk if i would ever want some parts of my npd to ever go away

🤍 - yup, have 'em in my pinned post. they all affect my npd a lot, sometimes npd vs. autism vs. adhd is impossible to distinguish between eachother lol. my MaDD is super funny cuz i'll spend days on end daydreaming about being rich and famous and ect. while refusing to take care of my basic needs lol

💝 - i have so many fun facts about myself it is unreal, i'll go to my favorite one. i almost had to get jaw reconstruction surgery when i was 11. i had such an overbite that none of my teeth touched. but i ended up getting headgear instead. i still have an overbite, albeit way less noticeable, but i think it is cute

💖 - goro akechi from persona 5 is so relatable. he's like my cousin <3 there's a song i really like that i associate with npd (i wrote a fanfic with the lyrics as the title, said fanfic was my npd awakening), which is possum kingdom by the toadies, but idk if it counts as an npd mood to anyone but myself

🫀- uhhh nope. never been diagnosed with any mental disorders

🦷- when i was 11 i got therapy for social anxiety but i stopped going for 2 reasons: going to therapy triggered my anxiety and i felt like my therapist was a dumbass who couldn't understand my more superior brain. and then my social anxiety just kinda vanished when i was 12 (no idea how that happened)

❤️‍🩹- don't think i'm the best at coping tbh lol. i mean i'm very good at preventing narc crashes, if i feel one coming on i just go get some praise via discord vent channels or go through old dms with my friends (so i can remember how awesome and perfect i am lol)

[vanillavcnce]

𝙶𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘'𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗? 𝟷𝟶'𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔, 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.

Welcome to the mind of an ego-maniac wrapped in daddy issues and severe trauma. Below the cut is some more info on my new bby.

**BTW - this backstory is completely made up, it has incorporated some of his real life elements obviously, but I enjoy giving my muses pretty outlandish backstories so please be advised this is from my imagination and it isn't actually factual to Cody's real life or any of his actual family members.**

Full name: Cody Vance.

Birthday: January 15, 1992. 31 yrs of age.

Hometown: Clare, Michigan.

Currently lives in: Atlanta, GA.

Cody's loved wrestling since he was young, he knew in his heart that he wouldn't settle for anything less than becoming a pro wrestler one day and getting a contract with AEW made that become a reality for him.

Most people look at Cody and take him for face value and who could really blame them? He's rarely serious and you can usually find him cracking jokes, making fun of someone, or being a total idiot. He has a pretty dark past growing up in Clare, Michigan he came from a relatively 'perfect' home. The Vance family was highly respected, Cody's father was a pastor in his hometown, very loved and well respected throughout Michigan and Cody loved and admired his father, in fact he idolized him greatly. Though the two didn't always have a good relationship, in fact his father would mentally and physically abuse Cody quite often. The two would go back and fourth getting into physical altercations throughout his life. Cody's dad wanted him to become a preacher as well and go to Bible College and Cody would've done it if it meant making his father happy. His biggest struggles were with disappointing his father, so he'd often do things he didn't want to if it meant making his dad happy. His father was his hero and even though Cody's father was a very corrupted individual, he had a hard time seeing him for who he really was. It wasn't until Cody's father had been exposed for having affairs, religious abuse, and other corrupted things that he saw the wreckage and carnage of some of the decisions and things he had done. The hurt, destruction, and devastation his father had left for those around him, was enough for Cody to decide he wanted to live his life for him and to have his own dreams. He never looked back - except he very much did. He's been haunted by his traumatic upbringing and his father's actions for years and it's shaped Cody into the person he is today unfortunately. He's a bit of an ego-maniac, he's got tons of walls built up, and he often acts out as a way of coping with the trauma and anger that he holds inside.

Cody's had one publicized relationship, it was before he really blew up with AEW but most know he dated Anna Jay (I have not spoken to the Anna writer so I will leave this part pretty bare for the time being.) after he and Anna broke up, Cody spent some time alone, but he actually ended up finding someone and he got married to this woman drunkenly one night in Vegas. It wasn't a planned thing obviously and he certainly didn't wanna marry this woman, he was just looking for a bit of fun however - he decided to stay and give the marriage a try, the two eventually ended up having a daughter and he did get divorced from her about 5 months ago but he's still very present in his daughter's life. His ex wife has full custody of his daughter (due to Cody's very busy schedule) but he does see his daughter very regularly.

Cody's open for all plots, ships are 100% chemistry based for me as I don't like to force things, I lose muse when I do that. He's not really a commitment type of guy, especially after watching his own father's marriage crumble and then his own failed marriage and relationship with Anna. He could use some friends though, he's a dumbass. Lmao hit me up for plots guys!

[ignorantghost]

Something that stuck with me at work today.

I had a co-worker ask me "what defines me as a person or a human?"

At the time I really couldn't answer the question and has had me pondering about it for the remainder of working my shift at disney. It's a question you would think would be a off the fly answer but at that moment I couldn't think of it till now. It's quite humourous how that works.

At the core I am a gamer, father of a 14 year old daughter this point who I am very proud of especially being a theater nerd and gamer. She shokes me in so many ways but enough side tracking, quiet yet can be the life of the party once trust is there, and music enthusiast.

But at the end of the day that's what I share with the public(most social media and in face) but not everyone gets to know the poet that used to write all the time because of my love for Robert frost and Edgar Allen Poe. The guys who has a passion for painting miniatures of D&D ,Warhammer 40k and car models. Then adventurous type who wants to travel to unknown locations I have never heard of and learning the history. Speaking of history, I love learning about the mythos based around our planet like Zeus, Ra and Odin throughout our mythology and lifetime. Very big on American history and the French revolution. The one who is passionate about Mopar, trucks and my love for cars in general and going to car shows. The little kid who still loves chasing the ice cream trucks down whenever there is one now a days just to have a core memory. This question has a lot to it and it really has me deep in thought about the past, present mainly and the future. I have done a lot of dumb shit over the years that at the time I would have regretted but I see them has growing points now given my therapy sessions with my therapist and finding out what I have been coping with all these years. The abuse from bullying, the constantly moving from house to house in Florida because of things that I am still finding out to this day from my parents. I was always trying just to fit in and never be myself cause I never knew how to open up fully. Granted, to this day the only ones that fully know the real me is Josh, Sean, kaleb, V(baby momma) , and Natalie current ex girlfriend. It's something I have never fully opened up about because I am always hiding as a blocking mechanism to not get hurt.

Growing up i used gaming to cope with being made fun of , being caught in dumb lies just fit in , betrayed real friends when I should have just listened( granted I am working on some of those old friendships now ) , and just not giving a shit because of the three bullies I had through out my school school life. I have always said bits and pieces of this story but not in its entirety. I would point out middle school was the roughest for me and our of those days I don't remember much cause how much I blank it out. Even now I have made some dumbass choices that's led to me losing the best women I have ever met in my life ( wife material ). That was a blow I have grown from and hope one days we can rekindle the flame. I have always considered you my country rocker girl kinda like jenny from forest gump. I can't force you to forgive me for the dumb shit that I have done but at the end of the day I just want you happy along with Zoey and it has taken me some time to accept that as much as I would love for us to start over and try again at the end of the day I am just glad to have met you years ago and spend the 2.3 years that we did date as a couple granted the last couple months were rocky and understandable now given the time I have had to process everything. I would give anything to take things slow and at least give us one for shot for the kids us hanging out these last 3 times over the years was some times I cherish most just knowing you were okay and happy but like I had mentioned it's been a bit to realize that and that I do apologize for. Also Zoey I do apologize for any thing that you seen during the dark few months and I hope you can forgive me munchkin 2. Scarlet still calls you munchkin two and her 1. She says she misses her little sister. There are so many things I wanna say but they have to be In person now that I know what I wanna say.

Sorry, for this long rant but it's part of this growth process I am going through and it's been a journey for sure. Between the few posts you should get the gist of everything going on in my head now it's just time to focus on getting a car, saving up for a new house eventually( would love to have my own farm, land and be able to just enjoy life) , going on a road trip to a beach or another state,get my passport to visit my daughter next year around August - September time frame in the UK and just enjoy the time I have with my family, friends and loved ones. We have only so much time with life and most of us just sit in laptops, computers and phones and forget to be in the moment. I would love to go out on dates and do little pinches at the lake don't know why that popped in this but thought I would share. Plus my end goal is getting married and just owning everything I stated before. That's the focus now.

Well, that's was a lot but glad it's off my chest now

[thatawkwardwriter]

oh my god I thought that writing my first draft would be the hardest because that's when you gotta get over the initial fear of "oh god am I actually gonna attempt this" and like having to constantly remind yourself that a first draft is supposed to be shitty but like

I actually have to be intentional with my second draft

My first draft was very much "here is what is happening" and that was it but now I have to pay attention to all the notes that my friends and I made and like wow

Now I gotta pay attention to setting, and props, and sensory details, and like is this a thing I tell or show? Especially because I have a tendency to just tell. And am I introducing enough of this world in these first few pages without just info dumping but still clear enough that the reader understands? And like I can't just write my plot chapters now. Cuz my first draft had very few "filler" scenes and now I have to include them because that's where character development and relationships happen and develop and like their so important but everything has to be intentional now even if it's just "it's happening because I want it to" it's no longer a "hee hee, look at all these dumbasses I have in my brain" it's so much more conscientious now

and that's fine

I'm not having any less fun with it

It's just so much harder now and it's taking a lot longer

and part of that is probably because it's from a completely different character's pov, but I kind feel like that's making it slightly easier because this character is just more interesting. Because the first character has a great backstory, it's just that he's very passive, and that's fine and it works and I'm not going to change that because he and this other character are foils, it's just boring to read from a passive character's pov because as my friend/partner said, "he's just experiencing" whereas this other character is much more active in everything that they do, they're more ambitious, and they're more angry. which is so much more fun and honestly easier to write right now. Because when I first started working on this series the first character was very much a reflection of what I was like then, just very passive and depressed. But I'm not at that point anymore, now I'm just very angry like all the time and so this other character is just making it easier to maintain this project as like kinda coping

It's not really coping because they don't get better. Both characters just get worse. But like tragedy so it's still cathartic

anyway, I'm sure as I progress in the project this draft will get easier and everyone always says the first draft is the hardest. No it is not. During the first draft I was writing a chapter every day to every two days. It has taken me a week to write two and a half pages. And like that's good still because progress is progress and like I made my friends read the first page as like a little test and asked them to forget anything they knew about the story and if they were picking it up for the first time would they keep reading based on that one page and they both agreed that yes they would and already it's much better than the first draft so yay progress

but my god

also another thing that is making this hard is that because it's from a different pov that means that there are some characters that weren't as present in the first draft at first because they weren't as relevant to the first character's story, but they're relevant to this one's story and also because of how I adjusted the plot and timeline. And I really dislike this one specific character because he's mean and a jerk and I don't like him, but alas he is the mc's father so he's there

but I get to kill him later so it's fine but that doesn't happen until the second book

[chickenoptyrx]

🚬

[chimaerra]

early morning time for emotion,,,,, uhhhh something something honestly in retrospect it was a bad idea but also the best thing to ever possibly happen to me that i got on tumblr young and planted myself in a few kind communities because otherwise i know i would be doing so so much worse now. literally don’t want to think abt how i would be if i wasn’t on here. still going to and i’m prolly gonna cry.

[themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy]

could i possibly request a headcanon of the marauders reacting to their s/o making a lot of suicide jokes? it's v common for me and i wonder will they we be concerned? will they laugh along?

Hi honey! I know what you mean by this, however I do still think that it could be triggering for some people to read, so I'm putting it under a keep reading line! I’m adding my normal taglist to this post, however, obviously you do not need to feel obligated to read it as it contains sensitive material that could put some people on edge. 

TW: mentions of methods of suicide and attempting it, joking about suicide, etc. Please do not read if you think that this will trigger you. Your health and safety is of upmost importance to me, please remember that I'm always here for you if you need someone to talk to.

James Potter:

It catches him so off guard at first oh my god

It takes him a second to register what you said over a bad grade in a class and then he turns and is like

🤨

“Darling it’s just one grade, you know that, right?”

He’s doing that awkward panicked laugh kinda thing like haha pls tell me you’re kidding haha i’m calling the police haha

you’re like ‘babe i’m kidding’

“Why would you joke about that? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

You have to explain that it’s either a coping mechanism that you use or just something that you laugh about because it helps overdramatize the situation so that it doesn’t seem that bad later

He’s not really on board with it but he knows it’s your decision, and just makes you promise to tell him if something is seriously wrong

He reluctantly laughs along when you make them but there’s always a hint of concern there when he does

Sirius Black:

honestly he makes them too

the first time that you make one, he makes sure you’re kidding

but then has no problem joining in after that

“oh my god I have to present today in history of magic i’m gonna hang myself”

“wait we have the same period and I’m supposed to go after you, let me in that noose”

james is sitting across the great hall in tears like GUYS IT’S ONE PRESENTATION WHAT ARE YOU SAYING

at the end of the day they’re all just jokes but you two know if one of them isn’t a joke and you talk it over

Remus Lupin:

you probably turn him onto those kinds of jokes tbh

the first time you make one he’s like omg what :(( no :((

and then you explain yourself and he forgets a homework assignment the next month or something and he just

“I’m going to jump off of the astronomy tower.”

this time you’re the one to 🤨

he strikes me as the type of person to love that type of dry, intense humor, he just didn’t know that until you came along

every once in a while he asks if you’re being serious sincere because maybe you didn’t laugh that time, or it didn’t sound as sarcastic as it normally does

but for the most part

he’s down 

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