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babesonly · 3 years

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fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS.

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny.

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

An ethics lesson from Hell

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want?

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god.

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #mine

475 notes · View notes

lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both. The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

#creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #brain thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #reader insert #no clue if I'm reaching a wider audience than AO3 but I'll try this out #Crossposted #as of now 13 chapters are over on AO3 if you wanted to read #other wise I'll post a chapter every 3 days on here until I catch up with AO3 #Ao3 has priority #A cure for insomnia

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prorevenge · 4 years

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Dispatcher refuses to send van in for maintenance. Gets forced to change my tire while I enjoy dinner on company time.

Hey all. So this is my first story on here that is squarely just a revenge. I honestly think it's a bit more pro than petty, but not really critical enough to go full nuclear, so here I am!

This story is one of how a lowly delivery driver got to royally irk a dispatcher, waste his time, get 4 hours of overtime, meal paid for, and a free beer. TL;DR below for your pleasure.

So I was a driver for a little company that rhymes with Slamazon. I had been there for several months by this point, and had developed a reputation of being very anal about vehicle maintenance. We aren't talking like washing them or whatnot, but cleaning out urine bottles, fixing broken wiper blades, installing lights to replace the burnt out ones, or other stuff that would indicate you actually remotely care for your driver's wellbeing. (Seriously guys, I had a van once with no working lights of any kind, and the passenger side door fell off its hinges right in front of my dispatchers, and they still sent me out). Needless to say, some trips were better than others, but this particular time, well, it was a doozy.

You see, friends, I was considered a problem driver by some for being obsessed with vehicles being kept road legal. I had not caused any issues other than this. We had dispatchers that were promoted up after a month, and after hitting mailboxes, cars, and other kinds of insanity, but I was always skipped over. This naturally irked me to no end, and I was looking for better within 6 months of starting. (I was there for nearly 2 years)

Naturally, all my requests for the essential equipment and urine bottle removal was denied, so I'd buy bulbs for my van, and pull them out after my route was done so I could put them into the next one the next day, and I chucked piss bottles out on the record. Kinda gross, but better than smelling it in the hot Georgia sun in the middle of summer in a van with sometimes working AC. This nonsense continued for the entirety of my time there, of course. This event however was the first of many times I decided to get back at the dispatchers for messing with my routes, and giving me the worst vans, and so on.

You see, this van had the lights that were bad. Broken AC. Shook like mad. Squeaked. Smelled like piss, and musty taco farts. Door didn't properly lock so anybody could have stole packages from it, and not much could be done. And to top this all off, 4 bad tires. Like, metal bands exposed, and one bulging out in it's death throws. The whole day, I babied this van as best I could. Putting air in the tire a few times, and just barely finished my route with some daylight to spare. So, 10 hours on the road down, and an hour and a half back to the distribution center. I get underway, and get about half way before I felt the tell tail shake of a tire going out.

"Well shit, here we go." I say to myself, and scan my surroundings. I am on the interstate, and not very far from an off ramp. So with what little tire I have left. I limp off the ramp, and to a parking lot which is right next to an Applebees (perfect luck, all things considered). I call dispatch, and give my exact location, and tell them what happened. The conversation goes as thus.

Me-Chucketbucket007, hello, again guys! Dipfuck- Dipshit dispatcher

That's it.

Me- Hey, I got a flat over here at (my location) Dipfuck- What? How? Me- Because you sent me out in a van that needed tires? Dipfuck- Fine, whatever, everyone has gone home, so you are gonna have to wait till I get there. Me- Sure. That's fine. I'll stay clocked in, then. Dipfuck- Uh-huh. You finished your route, so I don't see why you would be on the clock. Me- Because I am still in command of this vehicle, I have the keys, and if you want me to give it back, you are going to keep me on the clock.

I had called the company HR, and explained everything before I called dispatcher, and they ensured me that my time would be recorded.

Dipfuck- ...FINE, I have things to do tonight, so we gotta hurry up.

Perfect. Time to screw with this guy.

After giving him extremely vague directions while I enjoy a steak meal, and a large beer (on the clock, and no fucks given anymore) he finally finds it. I go out there, and see that he has brought the smallest, saddest, most not suitable for the task jack in the center.

Me- Well get to it, you made me leave with this van, and you can change the tire.

Dipfuck- NUH-UH, YOU WERE DRIVING IT, AND..

I interject.

Me- Drivers are not allowed, but company policy to perform repairs to the van. (He had yelled at me previously for doing this with the bulbs) only dispatch, management, maintenance, and the repair shop can repair the van.

So I walk away to finish my meal, while he tries to fix this flat with a jack barely able to lift the front of the vehicle, and needed bricks, and other items to even go high enough. In total, I wasted 4 hours of his time, cost him time to smoke up, and he missed the game that he apparently had money on. I got my meal effectively for free with the hefty overtime I got that week.

And as an extra smackdown, corporate came in, and fired the manager, assistant manager, and this particular dispatcher for failure to maintain the vehicles to DOT standards, and for mismanaging the DSP (delivery service provider) after my lovely chat with HR during the incident. I showed them the text messages, and some of the recorded audio I had taken of dispatcher being a general douchecanoe.

A week later, and we had a temp management comprised of corporate operations that would oversee the vans getting replaced with less shitty ones, training new management, and of course, giving training on what to do if you have a vehicle fail like that, and granting drivers some maintenance permissions.

TL;DR make drivers drive a van that is unfit for service, get nuked by a pissed off driver with little to lose.

(source) story by (/u/Chucketbucket007)

#prorevenge #by /u/Chucketbucket007 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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stunudo · 6 years

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Infiltrated: Part 4

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Hotch x Female Reader/ George Foyet x Female Reader

Setting: Season 4

A/N: A/N: So I got an unsub fmk-type ask and this came from that. This is going to be darker than any other series I have done. Hope you guys like it! The reader character has a name because she is protecting her identity.

This got away from me, but I hope you like it. Xoxo Stu

Warnings: Blood, violence, moral repugnancy, and general unsub behavior. Also smut.

Series

Your name: submit What is this?

You were late, really damn late. George wasn’t on the platform which he had arranged for you to meet him. You searched the exits and entrances, you doubled back in case he was being overly cautious. He was just, gone. You had never missed a meet up, never lost him in a crowd and most certainly hadn’t kept him waiting. Without precedence, came uncertainty, with the Reaper uncertainty meant repercussions or death.

For the first time in almost a year, you truly didn’t know how he would react. Fear began to solidify on the recesses of your mind. Not only were you worried about the kind of damage he would take out on you, you wondered what would happen if he just disappeared. If he left you hanging and alone with only the FBI to keep you focused. This was not supposed to happen.

Your mind began to spiral, you found your way back to your car. You stared at the dashboard, looking over each dial and meter, wondering exactly what your next move was. It wasn’t the abandonment, it was the swinging guillotine. At any second a single motion could snap the cord, effectively separating you from yourself. The agent from the accompliss, the woman from the murderer, the past from the future, the victim from the temptress.

It was nearly five minutes before he spoke, he was waiting for you, naturally. Silent in the backseat.

“Drive, Y/N.” His voice was even, but your exhale was ragged with relief. You hadn’t meant to cry, but the frustrated tears burned like gasoline, ignited by the realization until you couldn’t see in front of you.

“I’m sorry, god, fuc--ging Hemmings was late and I had to get my, my car. I thought, Christ, I thought you were gone.” You stared at him in the rear-view mirror, he was impassive about the sniveling mess you had become.

“Whats this about Y/N?” He leaned forward, his cologne filling your senses. “Were you scared, hmmm?” He held back, hovering as you pulled yourself together. You built back the walls, slowly with added discomfort, playing on his assumptions and preparing yourself for penance. “Drive, I’m done waiting on your shit.”

This isn’t what he was planning on tonight, he hadn’t expected this. Not from Y/N, his muse was stronger than this. He had bought her toys and tools, hoping the build up would have her writhing beneath the glint of his blade. He wasn’t prepared for the way her tears affected him, disgusted and enthralled him. She had been working and he had been idling away the hours until he could push pious Agent Hotchner over the edge.

Y/N needed to get her head together and George decided he had another mission on his plate. She pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic, listening to her breathing regulate was the only way he could mark time as the mile markers ticked passed them along the Interstate.

“Take the next exit, doll.” George’s voice was gruff from disuse. She quickly changed lanes, finally glancing back at him as she checked her blind spots. He couldn’t help it, his lips creeped up at the sight of her watching him. Then she bit her bottom lip and his thoughts fell to his lower brain. “’Atta girl, you bring the gifts I left you?”

“They’re in a bag in the trunk.” She slowed down, waiting for him. George groaned, looking for any sign of motel along the random frontage road.

“The next hotel you find will suffice, Y/N.”

You hadn’t said more than a few sentences since checking in at the hourly motel next to a truck depot. George was more determined to keep you secure than he was to get a rise out of you tonight. You held your chin up as he tightened the strap on your wrists. He kicked the chair you were tied to abruptly, sending your head rocking.

The gasp caught in your throat as he circled you, never breaking his glare. The ropes burned against your skin, the strips of lace forgotten as your bare body was restrained. Your knees were pinned on the outside of the front legs, your folds exposed and coated in anticipation, the air sending shivers through you, pinching at your bindings.

George had retreated to the suitcase, he found the empty leather sheath he had taunted you with and brought it along. He stood squarely in front of you. The bite of leather stung across your cheek, he whipped the triangular casing across your face. You hissed, bringing your face back up to look at him. His eyes darkened, he hit you across the other cheek, harder.

George chuckled deep in his chest, he trailed the leather down your neck, over his brand between your tits and let it drop on the seat of the chair between your twitching thighs.

“Now we’ll get to see which I want to put away first, my dick or my blade.” You bit your lip at his lingering threat, he moved his face over yours watching you mirror his movements, waiting for him to kiss you or kill you. He could do both or he could do neither, it was his game and you were at his every disposal.

The knowledge of releasing yourself to him was freeing, he had been the center of your life for so long. It wasn’t a secret, unfulfilled need, he was here owning you. He accepted his power over you and that made it less crazy, easing the obsession into something. Not a relationship, but an agreement. George Foyet, the Boston Reaper, had changed your life and as you waited for him to take his next step you knew that by letting him take this piece of you, it granted you your next step.

The familiar warmth pooled around the shallow nick on your shoulder. George was spattering fresh cuts along your arms and what little of your back he could access. The tension sent the wounds to ache as you rolled your muscles against his attacks. Each flinch sent the chair shaking, the loose knife case swaying closer to the edge.

George dragged his nose along your neck, letting your blood smear along his jaw and hands. It had started to dry in places, the air making it itch along with throb in irritation. His cologne had faded with his efforts, now it was just your want and blood lingering in the air. He was struggling to pace himself and you were growing weaker.

“Stop holding back.” You murmured, which came off more of a whine. He did not like that. He grabbed your hair, right at the scalp. Pulling your head back against the back of the chair. Your throat open and exposed, you couldn’t help but swallow as his whisper tickled your ear.

“Oh, the only way we’re both walking out of here tomorrow is if I keep holding back.” His voice was gentle, your stomach tightened at the sincerity.

“Tomorrow?” You asked alarm sinking in.

“You see, I may need a contingency or two. So after I fill that tight pussy, you’re going to give me some blood, Y/N. The kind that I can keep for a rainy day.”

You didn’t know how he was going to use your blood as a diversion like he had his own in Boston, but you nodded, against his hold on your hair.

“Okay, doll, let’s get to work.” George shook your head like a wooden dummy. You let your jaw fall open and gave a glassy eyed stare, pulling a dark appreciative laugh from him.

FBI Headquarters

Your team had finished its surveillance and were working on the final trap for the gun runners the next week. Evidence collection was tedious, but it saved the time on the paperwork later. You were heading out for a real lunch break, away from the same cubicle and twelve faces of your teammates when you stepped onto the elevator.

It had been a week since you had seen Hotch and Strauss on your way to meet George. You fumbled with your blazer, making sure the healing bruises from the restraints were covered. Hotch glanced at you and did a double take. Fucking profilers.

“Agent Turner, how’ve you been?” Hotch’s face seemed to soften.

You did your best to hide your surprise, “Doing alright, just stretching my legs.”

“Going to Marco’s for lunch?” He almost smirked.

“I was thinking Ivy Terrace, why? You free?” You let it hang there, when he looked down you knew you had overstepped.

“Y/N-”

“Aaron?” You challenged, making him look directly at you instead of staring down the elevator doors.

“I never should have let that happen, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” You hit the emergency stop button on the navigational panel. You spun stepping into his bubble once again. “Listen, I’m not going to touch you. But you want me to and I enjoy it. And as I recall, you enjoyed me touching you.”

Hotch sighed, letting his head tilt and giving you the saddest look you had seen from him. “I’m a Unit Chief, Agent Turner. This is not the kind of supervisor I am.”

“It’s a good thing I am only consulting on your unit and not your direct report.”

“That’s not the only problem.” He was a skilled prosecutor, you could spend all afternoon volleying his counterarguments.

“There’s only a problem if you’re looking for one.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“What’s that?” Hotch’s face shifted as he saw the discoloration along your wrist.

“Don’t change the subject, Hotch.” You straightened and stared back at him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But there won’t be anymore store room trysts.”

“I’m sorry, too.” You released the emergency knob. “Do you have any idea how many store rooms there are in this place?!”

The day and a half in the hotel room had faded from your skin, the last of the cuts healed over into a dull raised scar that you felt whenever you adjusted your bra strap. George had gone completely silent. No texts, no gifts left in your car or notes in the classified section. Give a guy a pint of blood and he just leaves you to civilian life.

The calendar was mocking you, hence you ripped it off the wall. It was today, eleven years ago that this whole mess began. It felt like it was yesterday and you grabbed the bottle of bourbon from above the fridge to keep the memories at bay. You shouldn’t have been this easily sidetracked, but dates stuck in your mind like the details of a crime scene, overly focused details and then, WHAM! panoramic clarity.

Your team had taken down the arms’ dealers in two calculated attacks. Hemmings took two to the vest, dumb ass. But your Chief and Strauss were chummy and pink faced in his office after the collar. One less fucking thing to worry about. Which was precisely your problem, not enough to occupy your time. The empty hours reminded you of your empty life. And how truly alone you were.

Stupidly, you grabbed your phone. You slurped down two long chugs before finding the recent calls menu. You stared at the uninspiring names of your teammates before finding one from the end of last month. The phone rang and you cleared your throat, trying to play coy.

The journalist let the call ring through to voicemail, whatever, his loss. It was only a Tuesday night and phone sex wasn’t your strong suit. Christ, Y/N, stop dwelling on the negative. You continued to page through your contacts, rolling your eyes at some and groaning in embarrassment at others.

It had taken the equivalent of five stiff drinks before you finally called who you had wanted to call in the first place. The only person who, just, got it.

“What if we never find him?” You asked as if it were a soul-baring sleepover secret. Just between friends in the latest of hours on the cusp of exhaustion would anyone admit these truths to one another.

“Y/N?” Hotch’s voice was crinkled, you had woken him up. “Foyet wants to be caught, he wants the notoriety.”

“But the only way we find him is--”

“If there are more bodies.” Hotch agreed in shared disappointment. “How many have you had?”

“Enough.”

“That’s good. Do you want to talk about it?” Why was he being so nice?

“I want to do more than just talk, Aaron.” He listened, waiting for you to elaborate or confess. You knew he wouldn’t play along. “I’m sorry, it’s a bad day and I chose you as a distraction. It’s not fair.”

“I’m not so easy offended, Y/N. I am happy to distract. Did you know that your Unit is getting a budget surplus after your last case? Might even get you better stake out vehicles.”

“Lucky us, now we just need Kevlar big enough to wrap Hemmings in, head to toe.”

Hotch laughed, he honestly laughed. It was like sunshine on the edge of a rain shower. You stayed on the line for an hour, just talking about anything that came to mind. He tried not to, but his son Jack came up more than once. The longing in his voice was painful and you took one last swig of whiskey to avoid the parallels of his pain and your past.

You said your good nights, leaving you to fall asleep on an unexpected even keel.

Walking into work the next morning, you held an extra box in your arms. If there was an acceptable gift for “Sorry I drunk dialed you on a school night and you had to talk my depressed ass away from the bottle”; pastries from your favorite Danish Bakery would be it. You pushed the call button to six and waited. You gulped an extra deep breath for courage and stepped out towards the BAU bullpen and froze on the spot.

Across the room and at every desk were commanding officers from every branch of the military, they were in full uniform, making the entire floor seem like an invasion. You took a tentative step forward and surrendered, you nearly sprinted back into the waiting elevator.

@benedictcumberbatchstolemyheart @a-unique-girls-heaven @gummiishark @rottendaisies @sunnygubler @lovebodymindstuff @archaic-zugswang @darkheartednerdwithglasses @mikri-oneiropola @princesswagger14 @justwinchesterme96 @profiler-in-training @kennybud @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @conversations-with-you-61065 @dontshootmespence @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown @cynbx @cherry-loves-fanfic @hotchnerfuckmeup @illegalcerebral @omallieallie @creativecody16 @kandii395 @tiny-potato-lives @april1535 @gabriellewritermua @daisydukes34 @fandomsxo @sonhadoraativa @nea90sweetie @mimiashton

#Criminal Minds #Infiltrated #Hotch #Foyet #Reader x Unsub #Hotch x reader #Foyet x reader #CM #criminal minds fanficitons #reader unsub #smut #blood #violence #cm fanfic #hotch fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #dark and twisty

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misterbitches · 3 years

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Most ppl porbably know this if u have been following me for a while bc i’m a prettentious hIDEOUS anarchist BITCH and i never shut up about it but i’m a filmmaker (and artiste i paint and illustrate...poorly) I hate awards shows, i hate the self-congratulatory BS rthe rich pplkin a room or ppl who want to be rich or gain social capital. No matter their color or gender etc it’s bullshit. Definition of insanity is watching this shit over and over and expecting a different outcome. It’s truly a wonderrful feeling to be acknowledged and if awards show didnt determine some bullshit (literally « good opportunities » it depends on who. What happened to lupita n’yongo?)

I have some sad news: 1 - i think other races are realizing that, much like the black counterparts they obsess over because we are just that fuckin’ fascinating, but they are fads. You are a fad ni the machine that isw bullshit Culturalism and multiculturalism as progress. Do not rest on the rich people, believe in your fucking self and do what you need. Bong Joon Ho existed befor ean dafter that win (i kidna want to go into this more but no) and barry jenkins pre-moonlight made a film that was extremely well-received and featured (shock) a black cast and good actors and was about gentrification. He took a break from filmmaking and focused on advertising IIRC for THIRTEEN YEARS. SO THEY EXIST. As for black filmmakers and arrtists we are alsways. Here. Leads me to 2; you exist and you should not be stolen from

2 - i startefd doing more research on blackface and minstrelsy digital blackface as well. And blackness is a commodity as we know butt here’s just constant fucking theft. I learned about the few succesful times balckface was incorporated (by black people ofc) and just yea. It was eye-opening. I didn’t know the oscars were happening and then i got the notif about boseman before bed and it was pointless.

I think he should have been out of the runnin at least for a bit. They knew what they were doing because the academy didn’t vote for him. I can’t remember correctly but if I have vague knowledge the movie wasn’t received super well (like, say, a fences) so maybe it makes sense. But this man died at 43 and was working through COLON CANCER (my father had the same thing, same stage, but he’s here at 62. It’s just shitty. It’s fucking shitty) and you want to evaluate his work? In this stupid fucking paradigm after this hell year? After the hell year for black people specifically (spoiler: THIS IS OUR CONSTANT) and what I find dumbfounding about this is this is capitalism. This is hollywood. This is the mainstream (refer to #1) because there has to be winners and losers. This is a hot take so maybe we dont’ need to judge posthumously—at least not in an instant way when someone passes but released a work—at least maybe not an award. Critiquing and talking about their work (like jonghyun’s album poet|artist) is different then hyoing up a construction and saying to a man who is by the way um como se dice DEAD!!!! DEAD! HELLO! And saying « lol u lost the most important awards show ‘ever’ according 2 us also ur dead also this doesnt matter and oh btw here’s an nft of this DEAD BLACK MAN’S FACE in your goodie bags! » like what is this garbage

Technology has made it so removal of ownership is an even better form of stealing. An even better way for minstrelsy to prevail on non-blackness. When black minstrelsy has existed (IE black people using that pain and stereotype as subversion, as laughs, because the trauma of being seen as an object is endless. So we have to figure out what pain you put upon us and how we can proceed) and we are innovators, creators, foundations. FIlmmaking relies on black exploitation and erasure, most art does, and we are not people until we can be commodities. We aren’t real because blackness is an expression not a state of being, not trauma and pain, not joy and immense beauty.

The thing is that (most) AI, NFTs, techno advancement (space ex lmao) isn’t about absorption, sharing, and innovating. Deepfakes all of that shit too. It facilitates THEFT. Tik Tok is born out of black theft and like most bad things that evolve black pain evolves to greater pain, particularly in america, so now black people are having their work removed or livelihoods copied (btw if ur not black u will nevr be, u will never understand our structure of feeling and who we are. I know it pains you but build a bridge and get the fuck over it. You can’t be a nigga and eschew the nigger) it seeps into regular popular culture. The fact that an NFT of nirvana’s last shoot is being sold is fucking everyhting Nirvana is against. Basquiat would probably hate that (if he could wrap his 1980s brain around the concept. I hate it. I hate it because none of it is to help artists or to go further. You don’t have to recreate a Nirvana song via AI because this time has passed. The band members wouldn’t even want that.

We can’t bottle time and memories and remove the fucking context from them. It’sd scary. And so much of this is just relying on black exploitation and theft of immense black labor. Our freedom is intrinsic to world freedom and yuo can see as things evolve how (particularly in the US but also our likeness as culture and cutural exploits) and eventually, maybe, you will be erased like us. But the thing is: we know this, we live it, we keep going. Can other people handle that? I am not so sure, though I hope they will. One last thing as more and more people try and become progressive or whatever I really just wish they understood blackness as a real root to liberation. Ending Israeli Apartheid is a big one as well; we are not free until Palestinians are free but if they get free then we have to attack the (non black) « arab » psyche of superiority. However, Palestinians have an afffinity with black people in the diaspora because of the genocidal tendencies in the US and because of SA apartheid.

I’m going to stop here but none of these things above are intersted in sharing more art and stuff. The OSCARS were cvreated to bust unions and keep black people out. Celebrities who are radical got their lives destroyed. And now we have very little legacy of people doing what they enjoy because they enjoy it and being able to speak up. It’s less of a necessity when you can just get in the room and chill. The idea is to get people realizing they dont WANT to be in the room.

Lastly: my thoughts on representation are complex. I do not believe the representation of asians is going to go as far as people think and I absolutely do not believe that it is because of the anti-asian hate and sinophobia that is borne out of this time. Hollywood has no interest in being progressive and what little we get it’s being pushed onthe inside. Even for streaming companies outside of TV—status quou is imminent. Media is propaganda and true amazing artists can convey it. But it’s more about money and fame as capital atp which is always the direction it was going.

Artists deserve happiness, ownership, and a life. They should want to say things that matter, nothing is apolitical, and we should strive to make good shit. Strive to reduce waste on sets. Strive to see people as fucking human. Art is a ridiculous stupid bougie rat-race but here I am.

#a thot

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jandjsalmon · 7 years

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recs for nice long slow burn bughead? wip or finished idm xx

OKAY - so I have 19 requests for fic recs. I’m going to start with the two that asked for Slow Burn fics. Now - I’m not sure if I’m the best judge at what a slow burn is - because I’m impatient as hell and want to knock Bughead’s heads together when they aren’t kissing fairly quickly - HOWEVER - I have a few faves that are definitely slow burn. Hopefully some of them will be new to you. I’m certain there are more - so if you have a favourite that I didn’t mention here - please reblog with the links so that I can read them (if I haven’t already) and so other people can read them too. Sharing is caring, Buggies.

Teenage Talk bydarlingdearestdead - This is the HS Reunion fic you didn’t know you needed. There is serious mystery involved and if I could lock Bughead in a closet and tell them they can’t come out until they make out a bunch - I would.

for the life of me by @stillscape - I am overcome with emotions every single update. I’d almost categorize this one as slightly angsty - because currently we’re Pre-Series and Juggie had a pretty rough and emotional time of it - but as we move closer to the beginning of the pilot, I’m hoping we can give this boy a little happiness. Hopefully. Soon.

What Happened To Us? by @fxyeahriverdale - An AU where Juggie gets injured and doesn’t remember the better part of the last year… in fact - his last memory is shortly before Jason Blossom ended up dead. So he doesn’t remember Archie ditching him for Grundy… and he kinda doesn’t remember that his girlfriend is his girlfriend. Everything would be solved if these kids would actually communicate… so it’s not technically slow burn - it’s not like he broke up with her or anything - but he just doesn’t know that the girl he’s been in love with since they were kids is also kinda in love with him back. SUPER good. Addicting story.

Something To Tell You by @findingbetty - I know, I know. This is not the first time I’ve rec’d this fic. But it’s freaking amazing and one of the best examples of slow burn for me. I just want them to freaking MAKE OUT ALREADY! The Jughead is one of the most unique Jugheads I’ve ever read and yet he’s still absolutely perfect. I love him and I love this story. Every update is a delight.

Interstate Love Song by @juggieheadcoopers - I love snarky Bughead AUs. There is so much underlying attraction between these two - but both of them are so super annoyed with one another right now that they can’t see it. This is still pretty early on - but it’s going to be a wild ride.

I’ll Wait for You by @a-girl-named-whiskey - one of my favourite Bughead fics of like EVER. I guess I wouldn’t call it slow burn anymore… but for the first half of this story I was doing Homer Simpson’s Chili dance to get these two kids together. Seriously. Read it. Review it.

wet socks by @fairytelling - Because it’s a freaking Pride and Prejudice AU. Folks, I named my daughter Elizabeth because I am freaking TRASH for P&P and have been since the first time I read it when I was NINE. This story is SUPER new but it’s going to be a hell of a ride. Get in on the ground floor!

Ivy League Material by @confirmedbugheadtrash - I don’t know about you - but I LOVE College AUs - and this one is really great. Jug has a motorcycle that he brought to Yale with him. Yeah.

born losers by sylwrites - of course no fic rec list would be complete without a sylwrites fic. This just finished this week and if you haven’t read it yet (or if you’re new to fandom) then you need to stop what you’re doing and read it now.

(so I was actually going to go find a Bughead gif - but I used the doohicky thing and searched “Slow Burn” and this came up - and if you know me at all, you know I have a sort of manic obsession with David Bowie - so I’m going with this one instead. Enjoy the pretty!)

#bughead fanfiction #bughead fic recs #bughead #answered #slow burn

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sunflowerseedsandscience · 8 years

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X-Files Fic: Reminiscence, Chapter Six

Well. THAT was an experience to write.

Thanks, everyone, for reading, and for trusting me enough to fuck with everybody’s minds and stress y’all out just a little bit! Enjoy!

Previous chapters: one | two | three | four | five

Mulder feels as though he's been swiftly transported right back to square one, with the whiplash to prove it.

Was Scully compelled against her will to get out of bed, inject Mulder with a memory-altering drug, and drive her car to an undisclosed location? Or did she leave of her own free will? Has she decided that she's had enough, that she's finally through following him through the dark on an unlit path? It makes sense to him that, if Scully were ever to leave him for good, she would see the attraction in making him forget her all together, knowing that otherwise, he would stop at nothing to get her back.

His heart tells him no. His heart insists that Scully would never do this to him, that she would never abandon him like this. Her strict moral code would simply never allow her to lie to him like this, much less to drug him and toy with his memories against his will. She knows firsthand what it's like to be left unable to trust her own recollections, and in his heart, he strongly believes she would never put someone else through that. Certainly not him.

But the darker part of his mind- the part that once kept him locked in a dark house, alone, for over a year, while his world had collapsed around him and Scully had temporarily fled in search of light and sanity- whispers malevolently to him that maybe, just maybe, this was the only way out that she could think of. The most diseased parts of his psyche hiss at him that his obsessive behavior has finally gotten to be too much for her, and that the only way she could truly escape his orbit entirely.

The Gunmen remind him, again and again, to reserve judgement, to wait until Scully is standing in front of them before coming to any conclusions. After all, between the drugs, the electronic memory re-programming devices, and the chip in her neck, whoever has Scully has more means at their disposal to control her than they'd had to control him.

But it's hard, so hard, with Amanda insisting that Scully is free to leave anytime she wishes, to keep an open mind.

At the very least, they now have an address. They're piled into the Gunmen's replacement for their beloved Volkswagen bus, a plain white panel van that, Langly laments repeatedly, lacks the character of their old vehicle. It has the advantage, however, of being unobtrusive and easily-forgettable- not to mention the fact that it seats all seven of them comfortably.

They're driving north, to an address on the outskirts of Washington, which, Amanda has told them, is a three-story medical office building. She's agreed to go with them, if only to prove to them that Scully is not being held against her will. Her keycard will get them into the building- though, she's warned them, she doesn't have access to the higher-security areas, and it's likely that those areas are precisely where Scully is the most likely to be found.

"Is there some sort of intercom system?" Skinner asks, as they hurtle northwards on the interstate. "Can you page her and get her to come to a more accessible place?"

"Preferably somewhere private," Byers puts in. "We don't know what Agent Scully's reaction is going to be, one way or the other. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

"I don't see how we're going to avoid attention," grumbles Skinner. "Anyone connected to a project like this is going to know what Mulder looks like. Chances are, they've been warned that he might show up. And there's every possibility that they know what I look like, as well."

"What if we could get her to come outside, somehow?" Frohike suggests. "Get her to come really close to the van? Maybe we could-"

"What, grab her and kidnap her back?" Mulder scoffs. "I'm not taking Scully against her will. Not if there's a chance she really wants to be there."

"You don't really believe that," says Frohike quietly. "Scully wouldn't leave you."

"She left once before," Mulder says, before he can stop himself, before he can shut that part of himself up.

"Not for good," says Skinner. "Once you got your head out of your ass, she came back."

"Not completely," Mulder says. And suddenly, he finds himself voicing his darkest fear. "What if she's finally had enough?" He swallows, ashamed to feel tears stinging his eyes. "What if this was the only way out that she could see?"

The silence that follows is tense, uncomfortable... until it's broken by the last person Mulder would have expected.

"Scully once took on a hospital full of doctors when she thought you were in danger," Diana suddenly pipes up from the back of the van. "She flew to Africa on the slightest chance that she could find a cure for you there. She took me on, in the hallway of the Hoover building, when she thought that I knew where you'd been taken. She went toe-to-toe against the men who murdered her sister for you and barely batted an eye." Diana shakes her head and looks out the window, her expression dark. "Somehow I don't think she's suddenly decided now that she wants to get away from you."

"She's right, Mulder," says Skinner. "You're talking about a woman who helped break you out of a military prison and went on the run with you. If that didn't drive her away, a few months partnered back up with you at the Bureau isn't going to scare her off. Not Scully. Not ever."

He wants so badly to believe them, but it's hard, so hard, when all he can see in his mind is her face the day she'd finally decided that she couldn't take any more, that she had to leave him, at least for a while. "For your own good, Mulder," she'd said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I can't always be a crutch for you to lean on. You've got to learn to stand on your own."

And he had... eventually. He'd made the appointments, he'd gotten himself to all of them, he'd mulled over his dark and difficult past with the most understanding therapists he could find, he'd accepted the prescriptions, he'd taken the medications, and bit by bit, he'd pulled himself back above the surface.

And finally, she'd come back. Not entirely- she still has the apartment in DC- but the lease is up in three months, and it had seemed to Mulder as though it had been understood that she wouldn't be renewing it.

"So what do we do?" asks Diana, breaking through his reverie. She looks to Amanda. "Does Scully stay at this office building full-time?"

"I think so," Amanda says. "There are apartments in the building, for the scientists that are there every day. So they can keep an eye on test subjects overnight, you know?"

"So if we can find her apartment, and get inside somehow," says Mulder, "we can wait for her."

"And then what?" asks Langly. "We don't have any of the antidote to give her. How do we convince her to go anywhere with us?"

"We're going to have to make it up as we go along," says Mulder.

"Great," says Langly. "Just like old times."

---------------------

At nine o'clock on a Friday night, the parking lot in front of the building is nearly deserted. Several white vans are positioned not far from the front entrance, distinguishable from the one they're driving only by a pharmaceutical logo painted on the sides. Langly pulls their van up alongside them and kills the engine, then turns to look at the others.

"Now what?" he asks. Mulder turns to Amanda.

"Tell me what the security situation is like," he says.

"There's a night guard," she says. "He mans a desk off the front lobby. Makes periodic walking rounds."

"That's it?" Mulder asks. He finds this tough to believe; in his experience, men like this prefer beefed-up security. As a matter of fact, in his experience, labs like this tend to be located in secret military bases, not in suburban medical office buildings. But Amanda is nodding.

"Nobody is here by force, Agent Mulder," she says. "The employees come and go as they please."

"And what about keeping other people out?"

"Like who?" Amanda asks. "People don't know this is anything other than an ordinary office building. It's not listed as government property. There's almost no reason anyone would come poking around." She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Except for you, apparently."

"Think about it, Fox," says Diana. "This building is unobtrusive, easy to overlook. Heavy security- patrolling guards, fences, lots of cameras- is only going to make passers-by wonder what's going on in here."

"I guess that works in our favor, at least," Mulder sighs. "That, and, they don't know to expect us." He looks pointedly at Amanda. "Do they? Are they expecting any sort of status update from you?"

"Not tonight," she says. "As far as they know, everything is normal."

"Good," says Mulder. "So... who goes in, and who stays with the van?"

"All three of us need to go in," says Frohike, indicating himself and the other two Gunmen. "We've got some big plans for their mainframe, if we can access it." Mulder whips his head around to stare at Frohike.

"You never mentioned anything about that," he says accusingly.

"Think about it, Mulder," Frohike says. "Once you've got Scully, we need these people disabled as much as possible if we wanna keep them from coming right back after her, am I right?" Mulder has to concede that this makes sense.

"I have to go in, obviously," says Amanda, though she looks terrified at the prospect. "I'm the only one who's actually supposed to be here. And you'll need my keycard to get through the front door, not to mention operate the elevators."

"I think I should stay with the van," says Skinner. "If things go south, I'm the one with the best access to backup." Mulder nods his agreement, then turns to Diana.

"And you?" he asks. Diana looks as though she'd like nothing better than to simply throw open the door of the van and take off into the night, but she steels herself, swallowing hard.

"Going with you," she says. "You may need backup, and it sounds like those three-" she indicates the Gunmen- "are going to have their hands full."

"How's Scully going to react to you being there?" Skinner asks.

"That's going to depend," says Mulder, "on what they've made her remember. Or forget." He clenches his jaw. "If they've done anything to her memory at all."

-----------------

Mulder has to admit to himself that, out of all the times he's broken in somewhere, either alone or with Scully, he's never before employed a tactic as straightforward as simply strolling up to the door. But now, that's exactly what he finds himself doing. Granted, it's a rear entrance, not the front door that Amanda is currently using, but still... it seems like total madness. The plan is, they'll wait here, off to the side and out of sight of the camera aimed at the back door, and wait while Amanda lets herself in the front, using her keycard. She'll tell the guard that there's a strange vehicle parked outside (in the opposite side of the lot from the van) to get him away from his bank of monitors, and as soon as he's out the door, she'll come and let them in.

It all goes off without a hitch, and in seconds, Mulder, Diana, the Gunmen, and their tote bag full of computer equipment are standing in an empty hallway with Amanda, less then a hundred feet from where, she's told them, there are a handful of small apartments- and one of them, she promises Mulder, should contain Scully.

Mulder focuses on this... and not on what happens after.

"Okay, Mulder, this is where we leave you," says Frohike. "Our target's in the basement." From the depths of the tote bag he pulls out a radio and hands it to Mulder, who raises his eyebrows.

"Melvin, I've got my cell phone," he says. "Can't you just call me if something goes wrong?"

"Call me old-fashioned, Mulder," Frohike responds. "This is quicker. Tell me when you've got her and you're heading back out to the van." He pats Mulder on the shoulder. "Good luck," he says, and seconds later, he and the Gunmen have disappeared down a stairwell. With a deep breath, Mulder turns back to Amanda.

"Lead the way," he says.

After nearly four days of nearly non-stop panic and terror, he's standing here, at a plain, unassuming door, empty save for a small sign reading "Dr. Dana Scully." As frightened as he is, Mulder can't help but chuckle to himself. He reaches out and slides the sign carefully from its metal holder, tucking it into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Diana whispers, frowning.

"Scully will understand," he says. "At least, I hope she will." He looks at Amanda. "Ready when you are."

He doesn't breathe as Amanda knocks; he simply steps off to one side, and Diana stands behind him, so that when the door is opened, they won't be visible from inside the apartment. At first, there's silence, and Mulder begins to panic. What if she's not here? By now the security guard is most likely seated in front of his monitors; they can't wander the building trying to figure out where she is. And what if she's not in this building at all?

Amanda knocks again, a little louder this time, and Mulder's heart stops all together as he hears, from within, the one voice he knows better than any other.

"Just a second!" Scully shouts, and moments later, the door opens. "Amanda! I didn't think you were supposed to be here tonight!"

They don't give her any longer than that. Amanda pushes into the apartment, and Mulder and Diana quickly follow, slamming the door behind them. Mulder throws the lock and turns....

...and sees Scully frozen in shock, staring at him with a look of abject horror on her face. She backs slowly away until she hits the wall of her living room.

"No," she rasps, her voice weak. "You can't... you're not... this is impossible."

"Scully," says Mulder, his voice calm, gentle. He can scarcely remember the last time he's seen her this terrified. "It's me, Scully." She shakes her head violently, covering her eyes.

"No, no, no no no...." She looks up at him. "You're not real," she says, as though trying to convince herself. "You're dead, Mulder. You're dead."

"Of course I'm not dead, Scully," he says. He wants desperately to rush at her, to take her in his arms and crush her against his chest, but he doesn't dare touch her, doesn't even dare to move closer when she's so obviously frightened.

"Yes, you are," Scully wails. "You've been dead for years. Robert Patrick Modell forced you to shoot yourself in 1996. I was there. I saw it happen... I tried to stop it...." She turns to Amanda. "Whoever this man has told you he is, he's lying," she says. "He's impersonating someone who's been dead for twenty years."

And that's it: the confirmation Mulder needs. In spite of the horror he knows Scully is feeling, in spite of the pain he knows the false memory of his death must be causing her, more than anything else, he feels the most tremendous sense of relief.

She hasn't left him. She didn't go of her own free will. Whatever reasons she has for staying here, it's not because she's hiding from him. He could nearly weep from the joy of it.

"Scully," he says, "I promise you, it's me. Someone's done something to you to make you think that I'm dead, that I've been dead for a long time. They tried to do the same thing to me- they tried to make me think that you had died, on Skyland Mountain in 1994." She's squeezing her eyes shut and shaking her head again, as though she can will him to disappear. "It's all a trick, Scully. They've drugged you, just like they drugged me." Scully looks to Amanda again.

"I don't know why you've brought him here," she says, "but I want security up here to arrest him now."

"He's telling the truth, Dr. Scully," says Amanda. "I don't know if they've drugged you, but I do know they were drugging Agent Mulder. And Agent Fowley, too." Scully notices Diana for the first time, but there's not even a glimmer of recognition.

"Who are you?" she demands, and Diana laughs humorlessly.

"They must have really upped her dosage, if she's not trying to kill me on sight," she mutters.

"I lied to you, Dr. Scully," says Amanda. "I'm not a graduate student doing an internship here. I've been hired to pose as this woman's daughter, and she's been planted in your office at the FBI to take your place."

"I haven't had an office at the FBI for a very long time," Scully insists. "This is madness."

"How long have you been working here?" Mulder asks, seeing an easy hole to punch in the story that's been implanted in Scully's head.

"Over ten years," she says. "Since I left the Bureau."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Scully, but that's not true," says Amanda. "You've been here less than a week. I was told that you were in hiding, that you were trying to get away from the people that you worked with. That's why I was hired- to help keep up your replacement's cover story." Scully looks from Amanda, to Mulder, to Diana, and back to Mulder in confusion.

"Scully, please," he begs. "It's really me. I promise you it is." She searches his eyes, still pressed up against the wall, leaning on it as though she might collapse without its support. Mulder's about to try approaching her again, when suddenly, the radio on his belt crackles.

"Mulder, come in." Frohike's voice is mildly panicked. Mulder grabs the radio and depresses the "speak" button.

"I'm here, Melvin," he says. "What's going on?"

"You find her yet?" There's a good deal of crashing and swearing in the background.

"Yeah, we've found Scully," Mulder says. "What's all that noise?"

"You're gonna wanna grab her and get outta here, pronto," says Frohike, over the sounds of Byers and Langly yelling at each other. "Some of the labs are right next to the server room, and it turns out that some of the shit they're storing here is... uh... flammable." More shouting, and a loud crash.

"Melvin," says Mulder, "are you telling me the building's on fire?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Mulder," Frohike says. "We're making for the van before the fire alarm goes off. I suggest you do the same." The radio goes silent, and Mulder turns back to face the others, dismayed.

"There's a fire?" Scully asks, stepping away from the wall for the first time. "In one of the labs?"

"Sounds like it," says Mulder. Scully looks panicked.

"Then we need to get out," she says. "Now. There are large quantities of highly combustible substances in those labs, and if they ignite, the entire building could explode." The question of Mulder's identity forgotten, she rushes to the door and unlocks it. Mulder follows her out, the others behind him. In the hallway, Scully stops just long enough to pull the fire alarm, and Mulder can't help it: he laughs. As they rush to the exit, Scully gives him a queer look.

"What's so funny?" she demands, and her dubious expression is so familiar, so beloved he could almost cry. "There are other people working here tonight. They need to get out, too."

"It's not funny, not really," Mulder yells over the noise of the alarm. "It's just... that's how you saved me from Modell. You pulled the fire alarm. You broke his concentration, broke his hold over me." For the space of a heartbeat, there's a flicker of recognition... and then she shakes her head, and it's gone.

"We need to go out the back door again," Amanda yells, pulling ahead of them. "For all we know, someone in the front could recognize Agent Mulder." Mulder nods his assent, and the four of them barrel down the hallway and back out the entrance they'd used on the way in. They run full-out to the van, and as they approach, Mulder sees the side door standing open, the Gunmen already inside waiting. Beside him, Scully freezes in her tracks.

"Wait a moment," she says, staring at the Gunmen. All three grin sheepishly at her.

"Hey, Scully," says Frohike, waving from the seat where he's been securing his bag of computer equipment.

"What are you three doing here?" The three men exchange grins.

"Nice to see someone who doesn't think we've come back from the dead," quips Langly.

"We're here to help rescue you, of course," says Byers. There's a noise from out of sight, and Skinner pokes his head out of the van. Scully yelps in surprise.

"If we're going, we need to go now," says Skinner. Looking behind the van, Mulder can see more cars pulling into the parking lot. Skinner is right- they need to move."

"Scully," he says, turning to face her, "if you don't believe it's really me, if you don't trust me... you can trust Skinner, right? You can trust the guys?" She looks at the four other men, who nod at her encouragingly. "And they're telling you we gotta go. Please, listen to them, Scully. Let us get you out of here. Sooner or later the drugs they have you on are gonna wear off, and when they do, everything's going to make sense."

"I somehow doubt that very much," Scully says... but she sighs, and climbs into the van.

Mulder nearly sobs with relief.

The door is slammed, Skinner leaps behind the wheel, and in seconds, they're tearing out of the parking lot.

Before they're even a mile down the road, a massive fireball blooms on the horizon as the building explodes.

------------------

It's been two days.

Two long, agonizing days of pacing around the farmhouse, waiting. Scully has consented to come back to the house to wait for the drugs to wear off, under the condition that the Gunmen come, too, as well as Amanda, and that Skinner comes in the evenings when he's finished at the Bureau. Diana is here, too, but her presence seems to agitate Scully- most likely because she's the one person whom Scully can't place at all in her memory as living or dead- so she stays mostly out of sight.

"I'm thinking it may be time for me to move on," she confesses to Mulder as they sit out on the porch as the second full day of waiting is drawing to a close. "We have no idea how much the loss of that building hurt these people. We don't even know who these people are, not really. The only thing we can guarantee is that if there are any of them left, they're going to be looking for me." She sighs. "I need to get the largest head start that I can. And anyway," she glances back at the house, "I don't really want to be here when Scully gets her memory back. I don't think she'd be that happy to see me."

"She might, Diana," says Mulder. "She never did get to thank you for helping her save me from Spender." He smiles at her. "I never got to thank you." Diana shrugs, embarrassed.

"It was the right thing to do," she says.

"So was helping me get Scully back," he says. "I owe you for that, as well."

"No, you don't," Diana protests.

"I owe you my help, at least," he insists. "The Gunmen and I can help you disappear." He smiles at her sadly. "I'd ask you to keep in touch, but... it doesn't really seem like the best idea."

"No," murmurs Diana. "Probably not." They embrace, just once, as old friends, and in spite of everything, Mulder feels more at peace with their past than he ever has before.

She leaves before sunrise the next morning, and to Mulder's surprise, Amanda goes with her. It's a wise choice for both of them, he thinks- Diana will help protect the younger girl, and she'll keep Diana from being lonely. They leave equipped with a full set of forged documents, courtesy of the Gunmen, and enough money to get them far away, courtesy of Mulder.

He would have given them his truck, but it's still in the garage of a DC townhouse, and by now, it's probably smelling pretty bad.

--------------------

Five days gone.

Scully is upset most of the time now. She's accepted that her memories have been tampered with, finally- Skinner's and the Gunmen's reassurances failed to convince her, but when her brother Bill had called, panicking because he'd arrived back on his base in Germany and suddenly realized that he'd been hallucinating for over a week that his sister had been dead since 1994, she'd finally believed.

She can't quite bring herself to accept Mulder. She claims to understand that it's really him, that he's alive, that she'd stopped Modell from making him kill himself all those years ago... but in the total absence of the memories of their life together, she has no idea what to say to him. She often finds it difficult to be in the same room as him.

"They must have given her a much stronger dose than the one you got," Frohike hypothesizes. "I'm betting they got her where they wanted her, and she tried to leave and get back to you right away... so they dosed her until she stopped trying. They probably would've done the same to you, if they'd found out that the drugs and the electronic bugs weren't working the way they were supposed to."

"Let's give it a few more days," Langly suggests, and Mulder agrees.

It's not like they have much of a choice.

----------------------

A week.

Scully seems to spend most of her time in tears. She says that she can almost sense the memories she's missing, that she can feel them like a gaping void inside of her. She still has all the false recollections, but now that she knows that they're false, they've taken on a sinister quality in her mind. Skinner sits with her most of the time. He tries to tell her stories of the years she's spent by Mulder's side, but it frustrates her too much when none of it is familiar, and finally, he gives up.

The Gunmen have tried to get in contact with their source, to see if they can obtain one last dose of the antidote, but whoever the man is, he seems to have gone to ground. Mulder isn't surprised by this: the destruction of their base is likely to have thrown the entire operation into chaos, and there's every chance the source no longer has access to the antidote. For all they know, all existing doses may have burned along with the building.

"I think there's another possibility that we need to acknowledge," says Byers quietly on the eighth day.

"What's that?" asks Langly. But Mulder already knows. He's been thinking about it for days and it's been making him almost constantly sick to his stomach.

"The chip," he says dully. "In her neck." Frohike grimaces.

"You think they used that to alter her memories?" he asks.

"It makes sense," says Mulder. "If the medication and the bugs didn't work, they might have activated something in the chip, as well."

"In which case the only way to reverse the damage would be to-"

"No," says Mulder. "That's out of the question." Byers looks pained.

"We should at least ask her, Mulder," he says. "She's suffering right now. You know she is. We can always keep the chip and put it back in if-"

"I said NO," Mulder repeats.

"You're talking about the chip in the back of my neck? The one I had after I came back? After I... disappeared?" The four of them whirl around. Scully and Skinner are standing together in the doorway.

"You know about the chip?" Mulder asks. He can't quite put his finger on when she'd initially had her doctor remove it, but he's pretty sure it had been prior to the incident with Modell. Scully nods.

"It showed up on a scan, not long before you...." Her voice trails off.

"Before the time they made you think I'd died," Mulder says encouragingly.

"My doctor asked if I wanted him to remove it, and I told him not to," she continues. The men exchange glances. "Is that not right?"

"You did have him remove it," says Mulder. "The one that's in your neck now isn't the same one you had when you were returned."

"So why don't we try taking it out?" she asks. "Like Byers suggested? We can take it out and see if-"

"When you took it out before, Scully," Mulder says, his voice strained, "you developed terminal cancer." She looks stricken. "A brain tumor. You nearly died. The only thing that saved your life was putting another chip in the first one's place." He shakes his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Scully. It's just not worth the risk." Tears well up in Scully's eyes.

"Please," she says. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. Like half my life has been stolen from me, and I'm never getting it back. I'll do anything to make this feeling go away. I don't care what happens next."

"Give me one more week, Scully," Mulder pleads. "Just wait one more week."

-------------------

It's a last-ditch effort.

Mulder has promised Scully: if what he has in mind doesn't work, they'll remove the chip from her neck and let whatever's going to happen, happen. She's hesitant about the trip- especially given that he won't tell her where they're going. She's even more upset that he won't let Skinner or the Gunmen come with them.

"This is for us, and us alone, Scully," is all the explanation he'll provide.

He would have liked to drive the whole way, in hopes that the long hours in the car might jog something in her memory, but it hasn't gotten any easier for her to be in close quarters with him, and so they fly, and rent a car from the airport. Mulder spends the entire trip trying desperately not to think about what will happen if this doesn't work. He tries to focus, instead, on what he’s got planned for when she does get her memories back.

Before they’d destroyed the computer mainframe, the Gunmen had managed to upload a significant amount of data onto one of their portable hard drives. They’d discovered, in studying it, that the vaccine that Mulder and Scully had, after her arrival at their headquarters, been tested on human subjects, and had been found to be effective in every case.

If this works... they can get started on making as many doses of the vaccine as possible. Just in case.

But it's been two and a half weeks, and for the past five days, Scully has been totally listless, lying in bed almost constantly, barely eating.

He can't stand to see her like this. It's killing him as surely as the loss of her memories is killing her.

And so, once again, Mulder finds himself driving along Nolan Avenue in the tiny town of Kaycee, Wyoming, heading for the Invasion Bar and Cafe. But this time, Scully is in the passenger seat next to him, gazing out of the window, not speaking, most likely trying very hard to make herself forget that he's even there.

It's almost four in the afternoon when Mulder pulls into the parking lot. Unlike before, he doesn't go into the restaurant. Instead, he leads Scully to the bench on the front porch and sits back, watching the road. Eventually, Scully turns to look at him.

"What are we doing here?" she asks, her voice flat.

"Waiting," he says.

"For what?"

"For the one thing I can think of that might jog your memory," he says. "The one thing that I honestly think they could never completely erase, no matter what they did to you."

"And what's that?" she asks, sounding as though she honestly couldn't care less. In answer, Mulder nods at the road behind her.

"Here he comes now," he says.

The boys look much the same as they'd looked when Mulder had seen them last, almost a month ago. They're laughing as they cross the parking lot to the restaurant, and this time, they're toting baseball equipment. Mulder can't help but grin at the sight of his son- their son- tossing a ball in the air as he walks, catching it in a well-worn mitt. He glances down at Scully, his heart in his throat.

She's zeroed in on him instantly. Somehow, he'd known she would. She stares at William, her mouth open, her blue eyes- exactly the same as his- suddenly full of tears. The boys draw level with them and incline their heads politely, displaying their small-town midwestern manners, and then they've passed, filing into the restaurant. The door swings shut behind them... and the silence they leave behind is deafening.

It's shattered, however, when Scully abruptly breaks into the most violent sobbing he's ever seen from her. She buries her face in her hands, rocking herself back and forth on the wooden bench, shaking with the force of her tears. Mulder is hesitant to touch her, unsure of how she'll react... but when he carefully lays his hand on her shoulder, she turns and throws herself into his arms, clawing desperately at his neck and burying her face in his chest. He crushes her to him, just as he'd longed to do the moment he'd rushed into her apartment in the medical building and had seen her, and he's not surprised to find that he's sobbing, as well.

When their tears have died down, when they can both breathe again, when Mulder's certain the owner of the restaurant is probably two seconds from calling the police to report the insane out-of-town couple crying on their porch, Scully draws back enough to look up at Mulder. Her eyes are full of a boundless joy.

"Mulder," she says, her voice hoarse, "I remember."

#x-files fanfic #my fic #reminiscence #IT'S DONE #the ending is abrupt I know #but I feel it's in keeping with the overall tone

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wilwywaylan · 8 years

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... Zombiverse Pavelko : D

How differently do they think of each other now compared to when they first met?

They didn’t go towards each other willingly. In fact, they only started talking because their science teacher didn’t want to let them work on their own, and decided to pair them together. At first, Pavel was kinda wary of that weird girl who didn’t talk and only growled or even barked, and looked at him like he was crazy. Or an idiot. Or both. He was certain that this relationship wouldn’t lead anywhere, and that he would have to endure that weirdo for the rest of the year. And that it would be painful and annoying.

Inuko didn’t think better of him. That tall, gangly nerd that looked at them like they were some kind of weird creature ? He was just your average, generic nerd, the kind that claims to have an open mind and to be SO open just because he allows girls not to wear make-up and talks about “strong” female characters. He would never understand anything. And they didn’t want to make him understand.

Boyyyyy, what a way they made ! Now they trust each other completly. Pavel learned that Inuko was more than growls and barks, and that they are a complex and interesting person. He learned that the angry facade wasn’t a mark of anger or dislike for him, but an expression of their dog personna. Getting close to them was kind of difficult, but he would do it again if he had too, because he would honestly be lost without his dogfriend.Inuko now trusts Pavel with their life. Once they got past the first impression, and learned more about his familly and life, and how he wasn’t a walking stereotype, they told him all about their secrets and everything about them, and they know he will keep everything for himself. They would probably be lost without him too, because he takes care of them as they like, and more, he accepts them as they are.

What do their friends/family think of their relationship?

They ship them. So hard. They all know that those two are crazy about each other, but are too dorky to say it. Kiyoshi is happy to see her son open to someone else completly, and find with someone the same kind of thing she has with her partners. That this person is a bit… unusual doesn’t faze her. The same goes for Ruud and Sakae. Mostly, they are happy to see their little nerd happy.Their friends find it very cute how Pavel always asks about hypothetical situations including an hypothetical nerd wanting to woo another hypothetical nerd and what should he do ? They totally see through his questions, because he’s not subtle at all, but it’s cute that he makes all those efforts to make things right between Inuko and him. And they totally bet on how long it will take him to tell them how he feels.

How do their personalities/skills complement or contrast with each other?

They are both quiet, withdrawn people who like staying inside and play or surf on the internet, sometimes draw things or write fanfics. For that, they are perfect for each other, they prefer spending time together inside than go out and run around town. They both know they way around a computer and technology, and can wipe up a wonderful security system for the lair.

As for personalities, Inuko is more withdrawn and prone to outbursts of anger, due to their introvert side, and they get anxious when around several people, especially several people they don’t know. Luckily, Pavel, if he’s not a lot more sociable than them, is a lot more laid back than them, and can deal with them being anxious, withdrawn, angry or nervous. He can help them calm down and feel safe with them, or understand when they need some time for themselves.

What is their favorite aspect of each other?

Inuko loves Pavel’s squishy stomach gentleness and patience with them. He never gets angry with them when they feel non-communicating and growl after him because that’s how it goes that day. And his acceptance of them and their personnality go a long way for them.

Pavel likes Inuko’s dedication to a task and the passion they put in projets they get their minds in. It’s kinda fascinating to see them concentrating on their task. And to be honest, it was quite nice to see them slam jocks bothering him in lockers, and it’s quite nice to see them kicking and slaying zombies to protect him now.

Do either of them have pet peeves about each other?

“pet” peeve exactly. Inuko may have a dog persona, but that doesn’t mean they’re his lapdog. And sometimes, he slips up and treats them more like a pet/ mindless than a person. They know he doesn’t really mean it, but it’s hard none-the-less.

Pavel knows that Inuko is a bit… rough around the edges, but sometimes, they can be a bit too much for him, pushing or dragging him a bit too hard, forgetting that he doesn’t like to be manhandled too much, and isn’t made of iron. But they always apologize when he tells them. (That, and they love to play with his desk chair. It’s not a kart, dammit !)

How would each reconcile with each other after a fight?

Pavel knows Inuko’s weakness for sushis and snacks like that. It’s not easy to get the supplies for them, but he asks Ruud to make a few of them when he can get his hands on fresh-ish fish. Other than that, they send each other internet posts through the instant message program, tagged “it u” or “look look”, until they get better. Then they discuss the problem calmly. Using instant messages help them verbalize things and get more nuances that they could by ASL, and it’s easier writing everything done than signing, especially when your hands are fumbling and trembling because you’re angry.

What would be their ideal vacation getaway together?

Probably a very quiet place, or a very geeky one. I was thinking about a geek convention, full of other geeks and fun and intersting and shiny stuff, bu imaging just one second ! Imagine Pavel deciding to show Inuko the sceneries and places he discovered as a child and wants to share with them. Imagine Pavel taking Inuko to visit Netherlands. Imagine Pavel and Inuko renting bikes and roaming through and around Amsterdam. It’s hard because they aren’t that sporty, they are two geeks after all. But they still do it because it looks wonderful and it’s so different from what they’re used to !

They go to museums, too, especially Van Gogh museum, and admiring the painting Pavel only knew from Ruud’s tattoos and a few fanarts. They walk through the streets, take lots of pics. They eat the traditionnal dishes Ruud so painstakly cooks, and enjoy all the cheese they can.

They come back with a whole basket of tulip- and wooden shoes-shaped presents for everyone. Ruud is blessed with a whole wheel of Edam. He’s in cheese heaven.

Think of a new way (AU, different situation, etc.) they could have met for the first time.

.... technically, they already got a few AUs XD But for fun, let’s start again with the traditionnal Coffee Shop AU. Where Inuko is the grumpy, tiny, puppy-obsessed coffee clerck, and Pavel the nice, awkward nerd.

It’s a special coffee shop that stays open all night, because it’s near an university AND an important firm where people always stay until late in the night. So there’s always at least a few frazzled customers coming in at all hours for their caffeine fix.

Inuko always gets the graveyard shift because they ask for it. People staying up all night to work on experiments, dissertations or exams don’t stay for chit-chat, they take their coffee and go back to their prison. Inuko just needs to growl a few words and it’s over.

But there’s always an exception. That exception is a strange-looking nerd. Well, all nerds are strange-looking according to them, but that one is differently-strange-looking from the others. First, his hair has pink tips. Pink. That’s the first time Inuko ever saw a boy with pink hair. Second, they don’t really know if he comes from the university or the labs. He’s dressed in geeky shirts and shorts (and tongs. TONGS), and his lack of haircut alone would qualify him for a student. But he doesn’t seem agitated during exam periods, and never carries any book with him.

And even stranger, he sometimes sits down with his laptop and coffee, and sometimes stays there for half an hour, or more. It’s weird, because he’s the only one doing that. He stays in an empty room, comfortable as if in his living-room, as if he wasn’t the only one in a deserted coffee shop. He doesn’t try to talk and Inuko is grateful for this, they don’t want to hold a conversation. But.... they can’t help to be a little bit curious. Who is this nerd, and what is he doing here instead of sleeping if he’s not late in his work ?

Slowly, they start gravitating around his table. It’s a slow, very slow move, very minute. They learn his name not by a label on his stuff, but with their DS’ StreetPass. A spiky-haired nerd with glasses and a purple shirt, that’s him. Pavel, he’s called. Well, that’s not bad. Inuko starts walking around the table, sweeping the tables and the floor, sneaking glances here and there. It seems that the weird nerd - Pavel - works on programs and stuff. A real nerd job. Sometimes, he plays, too, as if he had all night and no need to sleep, and Inuko watches him kill monsters or spaceships by the dozen.

One night, Inuko asks Pavel if he wants another drink, instead of waiting for him to come and rattle his weird order again. He looks surprised, maybe because that’s the first time he properly hears their voice, but accepts. Inuko brings the drink, and when walking back, makes a comment on what Pavel is working on. And soon, they are engrossed in a conversation about programming and programmation languages.

It quickly becomes their ritual. Pavel comes around 1 or 2 AM, orders his drink, and sits down with his laptop. As soon as they can, they come to sit with him, and talk about movies, games and everything with him, for hours, sometimes until dawn.

#lumeha #pavel konohana #inuko #pavelko #my OCs #I mayyyy have been a bit overboard #but it's for the greater good :D

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lifewithjessi101 · 4 years

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10 Things I Learned Moving to a Big City

I made the dramatic move to big city living this past August. Going from a little small town in Illinois to one of the biggest cities in Kentucky was a huge change for me. I’m about two months in and I have learned a few things about myself through this move. I thought I would LOVE city life, man was I wrong. Don’t get me wrong I have enjoyed the shift but there are some days I just want to be back in my small-town world.

Traffic and Interstate Driving

You can not get anywhere around Louisville without getting on the Interstate. I’m not used to this at all. I miss in town and backroad driving to get everywhere. We have found one back way to our favorite shopping spot but it might as well be an interstate it’s so busy. Not to mention the roads are very narrow here, with a steep shoulder drop off for water drainage. Speed limits and blinkers are only suggestions too. If you go to slow you will cause a wreck. You must be always paying attention to the people in front and all around you driving.

Leaving at Least 30 Minutes Early to Get to Anywhere on Time

I like to be at least 10 to 5 minutes early to any scheduled event. Whether it be classes, work, coffee with a friend, or a meeting. Back in Illinois, I could manage to leave my house 15 minutes before and still be 5 minutes early. Can’t to that here. I have to leave 30 minutes before for work to just get there with 10 minutes maybe to spare.

Easy Shopping

This is a blessing and a curse for a shopaholic like me. Back in Illinois, I was at least an hour in any direction from good shopping centers. I would have to plan so far in advance and it would make a day trip just to go shopping. Here I have so many options at my disposal in any direction. I could literally go shopping every day if my wallet would allow it.

Noises 24/7

This is something I am still not used to. Going from a house to an apartment is a minor change but having that apartment two miles from the airport and two miles from downtown that’s a HUGE change. Airplanes are constantly flying over our apartment complex at all hours of the day. At night is when it’s the roughest. It takes me forever to fall asleep anymore because of the constant noise. Not to mention our apartment complex of course allows dogs. Pumkin loves to insert her dominance when other dogs are barking throughout the day. Even when they are three times her size. I don’t think she realizes that she is only six pounds.

Yellow Lights Mean Floor It

I learned this the hard way the first week we moved. Lights don’t stay very long and they change very quickly. Slamming on the brakes for yellow light is a BIG no-no. You will get honked at or even worse ran into. Luckily I only got honked at but trust me I haven’t got honked at since. Yellow means pedal to the metal!

Southern Hospitality

Honestly, it’s 50/50 here. I can tell you one person that doesn’t have southern hospitality is the front desk lady at my apartment complex. The first week we were here we had so many questions. Mostly because she didn’t address anything when arriving. Just handed us the keys and expected us to know everything. Mom and I aren’t a fan let me just tell you that. We avoid her at all costs. That’s really the only bad experience we have had with someone. Everyone else we have encountered has lived up to the Southern Hospitality Charm.

Menu Differences

Everyone knows I’m obsessed with Dunkin’s Sweet Tea and Dairy Queen’s Non-Dairy Dilly Bars. There is not one Dunkin anywhere close to my apartment. They are all completely out of the way. Not to mention all the Dairy Queen’s we have tried around here have the Dilly Bar on the menu but “don’t carry the product”. This is complete bull shit. I’m not a happy camper about it at all!

WiFi Speeds

This is another huge positive since moving. My wifi speed has tripled since moving. Of course, it was expected since small towns only really have certain wifi capabilities in certain areas. I’m very happy that I don’t have to be constantly worried about crashes while doing homework or classes. Mom can be on her phone, Netflix could be playing, and I can be on my computer with absolutely no lagging.

Basketball…

Football is my sport guys. We all know this. But since moving to Kentucky I have noticed football is not as prominent here. Basketball is the sport of choice. Now I don’t mind basketball but come on. I guess I’ll just have to get used to it. Doesn’t really matter anyway because the Big10 took football season away this fall.

Expensive and Cheap at the Same Time

Groceries are more expensive here, another given. But they overall become cheaper than back in Illinois due to no taxes on groceries here in Kentucky. Don’t even get me started on gas prices around here. It’s CRAZY! We can go to once side of the town and it is a certain price, then on the other side of town, it’s 20 cents cheaper. Makes no sense to me.

Overall I think once I’m finished with school I will not be staying in a huge city. My small town in Illinois sounds just right for me. Funny how once you leave you look at it in a whole different light. As always be sure to follow along on all my social media platforms to see into my everyday life. From daily insta story vlogs, OOTDs, thrifting trips, travel adventures, and of course baby Pumkin. Laters babes!

#lifestyleblog #lifewithjessi101 #bigcitylife #smalltowngirl

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themillennialjunkiediaries · 6 years

Text

Alright internet where no one rly listens to my annoying ass, I'm gonna have a talk with myself in public. Which really, isn't all that shocking because I've been talking to myself the entire time I've been alone because I'm sooooo spun. Plus this blog is like 40% a journal for me to talk about the things going on in my life. Also, don't even waste your time reading this shit, I just needed a big ass vent session abt life.

I'll start with the bad so I can end on a high note.

After days of being ignored by fp I finally split. I messaged him tonight, not even wanting his attention but I lost my fav nail polish and asked him if he could please look in his truck because it was pretty expensive and also my fav. He ignored me. So fuck him and especially fuck him for fucking with my feelings when he knows how fragile I am. My current task of self improvement is understanding and accepting that no one owes me anything including explaining why they leave me. I won't ask for that. I'm not going to block/delete him either, though. I've known him 16 years and if he needs me I'll be there for all the emotional support, I just won't see him anymore.

I'm officially down to my last $60 until I can manage to secure a job but I want to have the holidays with my family and don't want to start until Jan 2. This is a problem because I have habits to support and no way to do so without said job. I imagine I'll make something happen between now and then because I always do. Oh the life of an addict always finding a way to get high.

I'm skeptical about serving and the fast paced, super demanding, extremely socially interactive, and oh so loud environment I'll be in. It is going to stress me the fuck out and give my anxiety a hell of a time. However, being right off a huge interstate and the restaurant I hope to get on at means the tips will always be good. When a friend was going to start there she was promised $50 for a 4-5 hour shift during the slow times when she first started. Plus they don't pee test, always a huge bonus for me because getting pee or buying synthetic is a real pain.

One of my best (but god awful slow) plugs really stressed me tonight. I'm glad I finally scored and am in a positive mental space again, ready to face the split with fp and all the other things I have going on. But my girl, after taking a long ass time which didn't bother me today because I had things to do, we get to her place at about the same time and we smoked almost immediately. Then we did a few hot rails. And that's when the stress started. She gets loud and yells a lot, a trigger for me (she is unaware). Her temper is bad and when she goes off she just keeps on going. Usually it's just talking in circles and for the longest time I've been hanging with her and using her to score, it didn't feel directed at me but the last few times I've seen her it's felt like she's got me in the scope now too. So she's going all the way off and I'm constantly apologizing, trying to fix it, and calm her down because I'm so triggered and trying not to show it but she doesn't so I ended up leaving after the second time she tore into me and a friend. I felt bad but I needed to for my own mental health.

It hit me earlier today that I've had three people in the last week cut from my life if not completely then for the most part and all of them I've known for years. Fp a friend of 16 years, another friend of 13 yrs and highschool crush, and a friend of about 4 years. I know my mental state has been off lately but it doesn't do much for a girls self esteem when friends start dropping like flies. I know I haven't done anything wrong but it feels like I have because why else would this have happened?

Since I've been known to be a negative person I'm sure I could go on but that's the shit currently on my mind and plate.

Now for the good & happy things!

I finally got my nails painted! It wasn't my fav color and I even went to the store but they were out of the color I wanted so I got a couple others. I had to take the first color I did off because the clear coat was somehow motherfucking bubbly and my brain wasn't allowing that but when I'm done here I'm going to do them a nice turquoise that I love!

I was able to get spuuuuuuuun! Despite all the things with my plug, I really had a pretty damn good night. Usually I don't sniff Tina because of the burn, but I even hit a few lines after smoking and taking a couple hot rails. I took a line of a perc too but downers and opiates aren't really my thing.

I left ol girl's still spun despite her being a Betty Buzzkill and took a guy I met at her place a couple weeks ago down the road then when I was going to drop him off, we sat in the car and talked for a while. After idk 45 minutes we went inside his house because it was good conversation and I wasn't really ready to leave. He's 9 years older than I am but we had similar views and thoughts on a lot of things and I'm pretty sure we both enjoyed that 2 hour+ conversation we had. I may have a new pal and even a possible work hookup for my uncle so he's not home all the time annoying me lmao.

This one I'm not entirely sure it's good because my logical self is telling bpd self to fucking stop BUT it feels good so I'm putting it there. I met a guy through a mutual friend a while back and we have really connected with each other. He and I have a GREAT banter, I love talking to him and we never run out of shit to talk about. Tonight I realized that even before previous fp dipped, he was starting to give Devin some competetion. Of course, he has things to work on but who doesn't? I saw him this evening and we went for a drive, railed down a few lines, then blew some clouds talking the whole time. Idk what prompted him to tell me he wanted to kiss me but he said it and I let him. It could've been the ice or him being a lil tipsy, but his kisses felt so genuine. It's been a while since I was kissed like someone was absolutely amazed by me and it's making me giddy. There are important parts I'm leaving out rn but this covers the main frame since I hadn't mentioned him until tonight. I just need to be sure I control myself and don't rush into obsession and I'll do my best to remind myself so the bpd isn't gasoline on the flame. I do see him tomorrow though. He owes me $20 I fronted him and he told me to go to where he works which is within walking distance of my house in the afternoon so he can pay me and we will hang out in his camper he keeps parked at his boss' house.

Later this morning I plan to clean my room because I definitely have been slacking on that. It's so funny everyone thinks all tweakers keep a spotless house but that's not true. A lot of us will sit in the same place for hours doing the dumbest shit you ever saw. I'm one of them but my depression also plays a part because I never feel like cleaning. Laundry needs done though and the room is just cluttered. I'd like to invite people over but with this much crap everywhere that's not possible.

All in all, after such a downer of a week, things are feeling more up and I'm finding motivation to do more. Maybe I'll even start therapy again after the new year. Maybe not, but we can see.

#jesus christ ari shut up lmao #long post

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filosofablogger · 6 years

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Hello friends, and welcome to the WEEKEND!!! People tell me that since I am retired, every day is the weekend for me, but let me tell you … it ain’t so! I have a fairly rigid weekday schedule that helps me stay on track with housework, cooking, laundry, then I write two daily posts for this blog, each requiring a minimum of about 3 hours, usually closer to 6. Add to that time to pay attention to the Significant Seven, answer email, pay bills, roll smokes, chat with friends … 24 hours are simply not enough! On the weekend, however, the girls take over cooking & cleaning duties (I refuse to let them touch the laundry), so it gives me a bit of a break. Today, I felt like taking a bit of a journey to try to find new and unique things around the world. Are you with me? Good! Strap on your imaginary seat belts, and let’s head to … Thailand!

Specifically we are going to the Elephant Poo Poo Paper Park in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Yes, you read it right, and yes, it means exactly what it says. It is where they make paper from elephant poop! According to Atlas Obscura …

“Making paper from elephant poop is a sustainable, eco-friendly alternative to traditional tree-based products. By not using trees, it helps reduce deforestation and makes sure the abundance of animal waste isn’t wasted. The paper is entirely sanitary and stink-free.The process of transforming elephant poop into everyday paper is actually pretty straightforward. Once workers have scooped the poop and gathered it, they then wash the waste so that only the plant fibers remain. The fibers are then boiled and sanitized, then mixed with other non-wood pulp fibers. Finally, the intriguing mixture is screened and dried, just like typical wood-based paper has been for thousands of years.

Visiting the Elephant Poo Poo Park gives people an up-close encounter with the whole process. You’re even invited to get involved, so be prepared to roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty. The park also has information about traditional paper making, which began in China nearly 2,000 years ago. In addition to the tour, people can check out the cafe and “poo-tique” to pick up souvenirs.”

Who knew? I don’t think I would much enjoy working there, though.

I was planning for us to hop just a few miles north to visit the Chiang Mai Tiger Kingdom, where visitors can actually snuggle with the tigers, but I learned some disturbing news and decided I would pass that one up for today. And so … on to … Wales!

Now, I have a few great friends who live in Wales, and one of them I know loves his beans, but I had no idea that beans was such a … national treasure? Here we are, then, in Port Talbott, where we find the Baked Bean Museum of Excellence. A museum … baked beans … really? The museum is owned and operated by a bean-obsessed superhero called Captain Beany, formerly known as Barry Kirk. Now way back when, Barry was working for British Petroleum as a computer geek at one of their chemical plants. Then, in September 1986, Kirk decided to try for a new world’s record, and life has never been the same since. What record, you ask? Sitting in a bathtub filled with beans … for 100 straight hours. And it was then that he first got his idea for a complete transformation into Captain Beany. It took some time, but in 1991 he quit his job, legally changed his name, and then he began the physical transformation, painting his head and bald pate orange, and donning a golden cape, pants, gloves and boots. Since then, he has run marathons, pushed a can of beans along a beach with his nose, bathed in a bath of tomato soup, climbed a mountain, and had 60 baked beans tattooed on his head.

The museum is in the living room of his 2-bedroom apartment and is crammed full of baked bean memorabilia and orange furniture. Since his apartment is a ‘council flat’, which I believe is similar to subsidized housing in the U.S., he is not allowed to charge admission, but he does accept donations from the 100 or so visitors he gets each year. And Cap’n Beany is a generous man, donating all proceeds to charities such as Sport Relief, Cancer Research and the British Heart Foundation.

And now, I really hope you brought your jackets, for we are headed someplace quite cold … Norway!

You know what it’s like, traveling on the interstate highway system and after a few hundred miles, you really need to stop for a potty break and perhaps a cup of coffee to help keep your eyes open. Those rest stops, though … you never know what condition you will find them in. But this rest area, named Uredd Rest Area, is situated along a section of the Norwegian Scenic Route. It overlooks stunning views of the fjords and the open sea, and is a popular spot for visitors and locals to watch the northern lights in winter and the midnight sun in summer. And, it is quickly gaining fame for being home to what may be the most beautiful public toilet in the world.As part of a project to enhance Norway’s scenic highways with innovative architecture, a sleek viewing area with marble benches and amphitheater steps leading down to the water were built along the roadside. And next to them, a striking, wave-shaped public restroom.

Made of frosted glass and concrete in a minimalist design, the structure seems to glow in the dark as the glass is lit at night. In the daytime, the facility offers just about the most breathtaking view you could hope to enjoy while taking care of business. Just look at that scenery … makes you want to sit here forever … except that I’m getting c-c-c-old.

Let’s grab a quick bite to eat … and warm us up … before we head back, shall we? As I realize that a number of my readers are vegan, I picked a place we could all find something to love. So let’s head over to Madrid, Spain, for some barquillos. You guys all like barquillos, right? What … oh, don’t worry … it’s Spanish for waffles. These particular ones are very thin, rolled into shapes like cones, and ever-so delicious. Now here in Madrid, we will get our waffles from a street vendor, but there’s a little something you have to do first. First, you have to play a game of roulette with the vendor! No, not the Russian sort … just the plain ol’ sort.There’s one now! See that red tin canister? That’s the roulette game, and the wheel to spin is on the top of the canister. You can pay once to spin for either one or two barquillos or pay more and spin as many times as you want, racking up waffles until you stop or the ticker lands on one of the four golden markers, at which point you lose everything. You are so going to love these … you can get them dusted with cinnamon or vanilla and covered or stuffed with chocolate and other flavors. I love them with fresh strawberries, but it’s probably a little too early in the season for those. Enjoy your barquillo!

Well, folks, I hope you enjoyed our travel today, and I hope you all have a terrific weekend! Love ‘n hugs from Filosofa!!!

Saturday Surprise — Let’s Explore! Hello friends, and welcome to the WEEKEND!!! People tell me that since I am retired, every day is the weekend for me, but let me tell you … it ain’t so!

#Baked Bean Museum of Excellence #barquillos #Captain Beany #Chiang Mai Tiger Kingdom #Madrid Spain #Norway #street vendors #Uredd rest area #Wales

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codysstruggleforgeorgia-blog · 7 years

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The start of the story.

My name is Cody. I am a 23 year old male, currently living at home with my parents. Her name is Georgia, a 22 year old female in the same situation. We have known each other for going on ten years, and in that time we have hated each other, we have liked each other and we have loved each other. I know almost everything about her. I know how she reacts to things, I know when she is happy, when she is sad, when she is distant, when she is hurting, when she is scared, when she doesn’t care.. I can read her like a book. While I can not speak for her, I imagine for her it’s much the same with me. Very rarely do either of us surprise each other in regards to what we are thinking - unless a surprise is intended, of course, because we are not entirely dull and transparent. Nevertheless, it’s very rare for us to surprise each other.

Here’s the story of our history, and how a surprise has both formed and broken our relationship. I write this to give context to the daily issues I intend to post so that my every day thoughts and moments of depression can be recorded. Georgia and I met on a video game, online, with no knowledge of what human being was behind the other monitor. We were just complete strangers - both of us young, not even fifteen yet. In my eyes, she was this over the top ball of energy, she tried to be friends with everybody, and I found her annoying and eventually hated her.

The reason that I found her annoying was because I couldn’t believe in my young heart that she wasn’t a manipulative girl. I had the typical rough childhood, but as cliche and ‘other’s have had worse’ as it is, mine still affected me.

My father left when I was seven or eight and would never return to the every day family life. I knew that he had been violent and unfaithful towards my mother because kids see and hear things even when their parents try to hide it. This departure from the family was kind of the icing on the cake for me, because even as a young boy, he was never really there. He always worked long shifts into the night doing manual labour work - although it turns out he used to come home so late mainly because of his post work activities, drinking and women. I didn’t know this as a kid though, so I used to stay up as long as my young mind would allow me to hoping to catch him as he returned home so he could fulfill his promise of playing Mortal Kombat with me on the Playstation. Even though I actually managed to stay awake long enough some times, it never did happen. So in reality I didn’t actually know my Dad very well to begin with, only the things I saw, the disappointments, and finally him leaving.

So I told myself that I hated him. I would not treat women the way he did. I would never cheat. I wouldn’t be a martial arts freak or be obsessive about fitness, as he was anal about health fitness and fighting and that was the violence I saw towards my mother and my family. I shut my young mind off from him and threw the idea of my dad being my dad from my life and taught myself to hate.

With him gone, we couldn’t afford to stay in Sydney with just Mum, myself and my sister - 1, and brother, a newborn. We didn’t have the money - well really, my mother didn’t have the money. I was in grade 2. So we moved back to a small town out in the middle of nowhere.

The first thing I did was move from one grade to a grade higher because of the interstate educational changes that came with the move. I went from grade two to grade three and studied at a catholic school. It was a very small school. It had one two story building a shed, a small sand playground and the toilet facilities. I was never christian, I never believed, so the catholic side of things didn’t really appeal to me, and on top of that I never really made any friends.

The friends I did try to make tended to be older than me by a few or many years, as they were the ones that would always play in the handball court, and all I ever wanted to do was be included, but they didn’t play regular handball, they played it with small plastic rackets, sort of like tennis rackets, and every time I tried to participate someone would pelt the ball at me as hard as they could, rather than play the game. So I never really had friends here. I played up here and there, but for the most part my school life there was much the same and only lasted two years.

Come time for grade 5, I was given the option to swap to the State School across the road, as it went until grade 12 and my current school did not. I guess my mother saw I was unhappy, or somebody convinced her - I wouldn’t know. I said yes though, wanting a change and swapped to that school. My first day of school there I got asked if I liked our country’s most popular sport and I said no. I got picked up by the throat and choked by one of the kids from the cool club and thrown back to the ground. Then later in the week the same group of kids decided to bully me again and dared me to ring the firebell, saying I was scared and wouldn’t do it. I didn’t know what it was, but I rang it anyway, just to get back at them in my own way, to show them I wasn’t scared and they were wrong.

I got my first in-school suspension because of that, which was essentially suspension from the classroom itself - so my bullying became everyone walking out of the classroom at the two separate lunch times laughing at me and throwing shit at me while I spent the entire day seated in the one corner of the school, unable to even join the kids for lunch because of my punishment. Much of my schooling for the rest of that year is a blur as far as specifics go but it was much the same as before, never really changing. The in school suspensions kept coming and eventually I had grown so sick of the students, and then in turn the staff because of the suspensions and the way everybody looked at me, that I didn’t want to be at the school anymore. It was no fun being suspended inside of the school just to be chased by kids on bikes throwing knives and other things at you.

Back then we had dial up internet. I used to attempt to play Pokemon Crater, an old flash pokemon game on the internet. I would sit there for an age waiting for one frame to change just to see if I had encountered an imaginary pokemon. I had been given a gameboy and pokemon silver as a kid and played it to completion so this was my new fix.

Eventually I would stop going to school during the time of my in school suspensions and as I had hoped they changed my suspensions to proper, removed from the school suspensions. By this stage I was in grade six, and I started playing a new online game. I leave the name out in case people stumble upon this because my girlfriend is paranoid - and sometimes, rightly so, so even though I believe nobody from our lives will read this, I leave out the specifics out of love for her.

As I was saying, I began to play a new game. It allowed me to interact with all kinds of kids my age from all over the country and it was phenomenal. There were groups for everything everywhere and one of the first ones I participated in was a wrestling roleplay, where we would type words at each other and imitate wrestling moves and try to outsmart, or outsell the opponent to show we were uh.. knowledgeable about wrestling, I suppose. This specific ‘roleplay’ didn’t operate quite the same as others, it was more about selling the fight, making it believable, giving the other person their chance to do their stuff, whereas others were more about speed, tactics, outsmarting the other person by being the faster typer and better strategist.

I didn’t spend very long, maybe just a year in this wrestling group - we were the first group of the server to do it and we ended up as ‘hall of fame’ members for years to come, much like they induct real wrestlers into the hall of fame. It was a cool little thing for us and some of us still talked when it ended - in fact, one in particular will be mentioned later on in this story. His name was Chris, and I met him here.

The focus of the story now swaps to the game, with my life as the background details, the inbetween information, because to me that was much the reality I lived - my actual life took a backseat to my pretend life.

There was a brief period of time inbetween my time with the wrestling roleplayers and my next roleplaying group where I lied about my age, and tried to e-date girls for fun because I was lonely and I enjoyed the company. There’s really not much to talk about here, it’s pretty much as I’ve just summarized it.

It was around this time that, in real life during the school holidays I would go to Brisbane to visit my father. They were not phenomenal life experiences. He would take us to his latest girlfriends place and leave us watching movies beyond our years while he had sex and did drugs, he would drink, he would sit us in a room without food while he did his martial art training, he would make me personally go without food because as a result of the bullying and staying home all of the time I had grown chubby. I developed an incorrect understanding of my own body - I was just a chubby little kid, but I thought I was disgustingly obese or something. Him treating me like this just made me want to embrace the fat life more though - and I did.

That was essentially my school holidays over the course of the next few years - and the only moments of importance besides meeting my best friend, Tyson. However my story with Georgia continued despite the meeting of my now best friend and everything else is irrelevant, so I mention it now and only briefly so the rest can go uninterrupted.

Picking up where we left off in the game, I eventually moved out of my ‘social’ phase (lol) and joined a new roleplay group, this time for Naruto, a universe based around what was basically magic ninjas. This was the first time in my life I had been passionate about something. I studied the universe inside and out. I took notes - I recited them, I passed fake exams to move up ranks, I outsmarted everybody that I fought and I beat them, and eventually I became friends with the top dog, the leader of the whole roleplay who had made the rooms using his own stuff and built the system that governed all ranks and power. I got him banned by reporting him jokingly and we became friends by me apologizing and having a laugh about it. Through him I met Mitch, who would be another good friend in time but not yet. Eventually I made it to the top of the rank ladder - I was leader of my own village in the roleplay. I was the best in that village and one of the top 3 roleplayers in the entire scene. I had sincerely worked so hard for this and for one of the first times in my life I had felt incredibly happy. I had built this thing for myself through my own effort and dedication. The other people around me liked and respected me for it. I had my home away from home. I had my escape from reality.

Then the devil came.

Georgia, if you are reading this - you’re going to have to excuse my language, you know how I felt about you at the time.

This little cuntball of energy rolled into my escape from reality uninvited, unannounced, with an internet boyfriend at her side, 20 guys lined up waiting to lick the pixelated dust trail behind her footsteps, a parade of attention and affection and affirmation, and almost the entire roleplay being ready to bend their rules and change the ways we had to work and invest ourselves to get where we wanted to be - because of the power of the pussy. I fucking hated this creature more than anything else and to top it off, she spoke like you would expect an energetic teenage girl to talk when pretending to be a ninja: hehe LOL XD SHURIKEN JUTSU She drove me up the fucking wall. I genuinely hated this person. She had done nothing but pull apart the escape from reality I knew. The environment I had enjoyed began to turn to shit and eventually she got everything she wanted in one tenth the effort I had invested. Then to make things worse, a new founder of a new variation of the roleplay - so one removed from ours, joined and took her under his wing, automatically drawing like 50 cucks who must have believed if they sniffed hard enough they would smell the pussy through the net.

The devil was Georgia.

Although she did not personally destroy everything that made my escape from reality what it was, she set everything in motion and I hated her for it. So I left, I joined a new roleplay for Star Wars, and I repeated the same investment of my self for a year and I used that as my new escape from reality. In the mean time, Brandon, the previous founder, and Mitch, had become friends with Georgia. I had no connection with anybody but them from NRP so I didn’t really care. I remembered nothing but hate for her.

Here’s where my real life finally began to interfere again. I met a girl named Maddie. She was dating Nikita, an old friend, who had tried out for the band Tyson, Tyler [another friend] and I had formed. I was the singer, Tyson and Tyler the guitarists, and she was meant to be the drummer. She brought Maddie, her girlfriend along and the two became regulars at our music sessions. Eventually Nikita gave up on drumming as she wasn’t very good at it but Maddie seemed to hang around, or want to, too often. She had mental health issues and was dating an abusive girlfriend who cut herself and threatened her and blamed her for so many different things and I felt bad for her. And she fell for Tyson, my best friend. I told her to do right by Nikita despite their differences and break up with her properly before doing anything with Tyson. She didn’t listen. We lost Nikita as a friend as a result and Maddie dated Tyson for a few months, living with him, before her family eventually arranged for her to move to the coast with them. However, in the time where she lived with Tyson - his house being my #1 spot outside of on my game, I grew way too close with her and fell in baby love with her. One night after she was gone she was talking to me and asked me why I seemed so sad and In my sad moment of weakness I confessed that I had feelings for her and I was sad that she was gone. However rather than crucify me she confessed she had developed feelings for me too. At first it was nothing but given time it turned to something real. I told her to break everything off with Tyson properly before we took it any further - she promised. I moved to live close, in a new town 4 hours away and went to school there. On the school holidays, she came to visit me and I saw the girl I thought I loved for the first time since she had left town and it seemed perfect. That night I lost my virginity to her - and then right after our 2 hour session (I state the number proudly but it was more of an anxiousness and fear of not performing that kept me going so well), the first thing she says to me is that she just cheated on Tyson - that she had not broken up with him properly - and that the month before, when she visited him halfway between her new house and my old town, instead of get the clothes and belongings she had left behind and tell him it was over, she got it all and kissed him. She hadn’t even ended it with my best friend. So now I’ve lost my virginity to what I realize is a habitual cheater / generally unfaithful person and betrayed the trust of my best friend much worse than I thought I already had all in one night. And my life got flipped. However, I did make a new friend shortly after. Chris, from wrestling on my game, spoke to me on msn one day and I found out he actually lived where Maddie now lived - and went to the same school, so I asked him to take her into their friend group and look after her and he said yes. Eventually I would meet Chris when visiting Maddie, and many other friends I will mention through this.

I broke up with her a month later because she joined the slutty emo group at her new school, got into drugs and talked about one guy too much - and I just knew the type of person she was. I knew she had cheated. So I left her. I went back to my original town and eventually for Christmas I visited my dad on the coast. I had stopped playing my escape from reality game for the most part and rarely logged on at this stage - I was in the final two years of my schooling life after all. I visited my father for Christmas this year, and his new accountant happened to live on the coast that Maddie lived on. I thought nothing of it - then, by chance, she messaged me while I was there, completely unaware that I was and three hours later we were in her apartment blocks local pool having sex. And then relationship 2.0 started, I met some of the guys she had slept with in our time apart, she promised to change, I said I would work harder. I did, she didn’t. She didn’t make an effort to remove the other guys from her life - she flirted and let them flirt, and just generally made me uncomfortable. Then I met Sarah, new best friend, and Rhiannon, her other best friend [and also the chick thats like ay i heard u got a nice cok l0l but says it like one of the boys so u dont feel threatened like she’s gonna try to fuck u anyway random tangent back to the story]. Sarah was beautiful, she was funny, she was super nerdy, she was super nice and humble and was just kind of a follower at this stage of her life. She kind of just followed the other two. I pretty much connected with her instantly and we became awesome friends. It was as innocent as that to begin with. Then the unfaithfulness from Maddie continued, the abuse got worse, the lies got worse, and eventually on one of my school holiday visits to Maddie I found myself spending my very last night there at Sarah’s house, in her lounge room talking about how sad I was, talking about video games, just talking. I had told her that I was coming over to play games because I couldn’t sleep and she said no don’t do it you’ll get stabbed this late at night or something so to make her feel comfortable I literally ran the entire way there, nearly died having an asthma attack when I arrived and the cutie wrapped me in a blanket and gave me a warm drink like some sort of spiritual grandmother. Once we had played games and chatted shit about Maddie for long enough I said I had to go back, and she offered to walk with me part of the way back. We did nothing but talk and I explained to her that she was beautiful inside and out and that she should be stronger and not let people push her around and that she’s awesome and a rare breed of human being and she should be happy and proud of herself and only let herself get treated right and it was basically that same night I realized I had fallen out of love with Maddie and into love with Sarah. So I broke up with Maddie, I told Sarah how I felt (Maddie started shit talking Sarah and it made the decision to dump her easier) but Sarah took Maddie’s side thinking she was doing the right thing by her friend because she didn’t know or believe the nasty things Maddie said about her behind her back when I told her. So I dropped a toxic relationship and lost an amazing girl in one hit. But was that the last time I dated Maddie? Nope, ya boy’s fucking autistic. I ended up back on the coast at some stage and Sarah and I had began talking again as friends - we never moved past being friends after all, but I still had feelings for her and the spiteful hateful part of me wanted to show her how shit Maddie was. Sarah wanted to make it up to Maddie by getting me back with her. because Sarah was a knob and didn’t believe Maddie was a cunt. I went to the party as Sarah’s invite, Maddie brought her ex/my friend to this day [guy is cool and also got used] Jackson. Jackson wanted in with Maddie. I was the man to make it happen. Maddie wanted in with me. Sarah was the girl to make it happen. Maddie wanted me however and I wanted Sarah. It was fucked up. Long story short, after ignoring Maddie’s emotional breakdown in attempts to manipulate me into feeling bad and being with her, Sarah flipped at me, I realized there was no winning situation. I told Maddie to be with Jackson. She didn’t listen. I got shit faced then smoked a bunch of weed, got far too fucked up and ended up banging Maddie in the public toilets while of my face. Apparently banging in the toilets while off our faces means we’re dating again so yeah, enter relationship attempt #3. This one didn’t last long, I had graduated Grade 12 by now, I moved to the coast, attempted to work and do uni, had struggles where family members intentionally sabotaged my ability to get real payments, worked 9 hour shifts with 30 minute breaks with no music or food I could keep on location and 10 mins to and from home as a trolley pusher every day. I couldn’t keep up with my studies. My mother was helping me by paying my rent - but my food money and personal money got sucked up by the succubus herself Maddie and my entire life ended up being shaped to how she wanted me to be - and given that she was unfaithful she anted me to be a lot of different types of guys so my life was miserable as fuck. Eventually Tyson and Tyler visited, I got high, crashed Tyler’s car, had to move home because it literally ran me broke and I had to rely on my mother to help me pay off the rest of the fixes, repaired his car, drove home with a big bag of weed and just Tyler and myself (Tyson flew home, he lived elsewhere now), and we smoked up for the full 1500km drive. I had apologized and I thought him and I would remain friends, but we didn’t, he got involved with people who did harder drugs and I had no interest. So I had lost my girlfriend [good riddance], lost my home and the only place I had made real life friends who loved me as I loved them, lost my uni attempt, my job. Everything I had worked for was gone. I was the most miserable 18 year old you will ever see. That’s when I became close with Brandon and Mitch again, and through extension Georgia.

Brandon would tell me that the nudes her ex claimed to have leaked were real - that he had them, and wouldn’t show me, because he had to keep it secret since he believed she would ‘fuck him in a heartbeat’ and he wanted to cheat on his girlfriend by getting her to fly to visit him and putting moves on her. There was a lot of talk like this in the past and I only mention it now because as I grew to know this girl I realized how disgusting he had been all those years and it played a part later on.

So this was the first time Georgia really became a part of my life. I mean she had rolled in like a wrecking ball before, but I knew only hatred for her. Even at the beginning I simply tolerated her being there in our chats and I saw her as the little slut Brandon would manipulate and get his own ego rise by having around, like a trophy side chick or something. I didn’t care for her.

Then I got really drunk one night and out of sheer boredom, not interest, as I had nobody else to talk to - I sent Georgia a message. She was in another country with a boyfriend at the time, living there, so timezones allowed my drunk ass to be awake at 3am and be talking to her at primetime for her.

At first we talked about very little. I had decided she wasn’t horrible enough to ignore and decided to talk to her as a friend on the regular because it was so convenient for the way I handled myself at the time - drunk as fuck at 3am in the morning.

Now at this point in my life I had nothing going for me. I was miserable, I stayed at home all day.. I played video games, I watched anime, I was fat. You know the drill. But I began to change who I was as a person through talking to this girl. You see, she was in another country, young like me, a year younger in fact, scared and sad because her boyfriend had been unfaithful to her and she was living in a foreign land with him having to see him and his family every day. She too had a less than amazing, in fact horrible experience in her younger years that had left some trauma with her and I resonated with this girl so much. I remembered all of the years hating her and I suddenly felt so silly. This girl was me but with a vagina, basically.

But I didn’t love her yet - I just found purpose through her. I wanted to be there for her. So I was. Even when I wasn’t drunk I maintained my awful sleeping pattern intentionally so she would never have to feel too alone - I would sleep through the busiest parts of her days when I needed rest - and I would wake when the day became lonely, so she didn’t have to be too alone with her thoughts. My life slowly began to revolve around this girl.

Eventually I started to change things about myself in more extreme ways. I had begun to understand that I had feelings for this girl, that she would need time (if she ever wanted to be with me), and I would need to be better for her. I changed my diet, I walked every night, losing anywhere from 5-10kg a month for months on end, I worked and saved up some money. I got in shape to impress her, I got healthy to impress her, I quit smoking and drinking for a while to impress her [I’d cave on them both eventually for various reasons that in hindsight were never worth the damage I could have done to myself].

And eventually the time came. By this stage she knew how I felt about her. And when she knew, she became more involved with me than before, more supportive, happier at times.. and then she finally came back from across the ocean, back to the same country as me and all I could think was when the time is right I can finally meet this girl.

It was around Christmas time when this happened, because it was this same Christmas that I had decided to spend with Brandon and Mitch. For the week leading up to the trip, she had dropped out of my life almost completely. She told me she felt jet lagged and had so many people to catch up with. All she talked about was McDonalds coworkers who flirted with her on her facebook or in messages. It was a part of her life she had never revealed and I felt pretty second place to every guy she spoke about because she spoke so passionately about them. I felt sad for the first time in a long time but I also remembered all of the amazing things i’d achieved personally in pursuit of this girl that I had never driven myself to do before and I put the negative thoughts away. I loved her. That’s what I realized that Christmas. That I loved Georgia.

So I accepted that she’s settling back into normal life - it was reasonable and at the end of the day we were still officially just friends. It wasn’t my place, although I wanted it. So I went to Brandon’s for Christmas and met Mitch there. She talked to me more while I was there, and things started to seem normal again, she even said ‘no don’t worry about me, you go spend christmas with your friends’ on christmas - you know those moments where you stop and you think, did she just do a girlfriend thing? is there something there between us? like it just sounded so heartfelt and compassionate and sincere and I just thought wow I love this girl

And then she disappeared, for the better part of a month.

I can’t put into words how gut wrenching this was. This was the first time in my life I ever had a true breakdown due to my depression. Well, it was the first time that burned itself into my memory. I had done so much - changed, so much about myself just to maybe impress this girl - knowing we might not end up as more than friends, but loving her nontheless and having what I thought was the most amazing beautiful friendship with her.. and then she was just gone.

And when I finally heard back from her the girl I had fallen in love with was dead.

You see, during my christmas trip, I had spoken to Brandon about things that we regretted, sensitive topics we wanted to get off our chest - and understandably, one of mine was Sarah. I had no love for the girl, but she had confused me by coming back into my life and talking to me not long before the christmas trip. She just wanted her friend back. We had never been more, or attempted to. And we never have since.. so it wasn’t anything I thought weirdly of, but it did bring back the memories, and I thought I was confiding in a close friend when I vented my regrets about that period of time in my life - I did regret some moments. Why wouldn’t I? But that didn’t mean I had desire for the girl anymore. They had been long dead. All I knew in my heart was Georgia but Brandon knew that and he was jealous because Georgia had been his little pocket bitch for so long and he didn’t want anybody from his group of friends to be closer to her - especially not me, because he knew how I respected and cared for her, and he knew I knew the nasty things he had said about her in private to me. Things I had almost completely forgotten and would have never mentioned.

Instead of being a good friend, he acted on his own sadness and jealousy and pitifulness and lied to Georgia and told him I had Sarah as my back up girl.

And this was the first time what I believe was Georgia’s anxiety and fear tore us apart and damaged her. Because rather than confront me about it, me, the guy who had done nothing but work on himself in hopes that one day he might do well enough to simply impress her in the slightest, she believed Brandon, her ‘big brother figure’, and rather than address the issue with me, cast me out of her life.

And somehow in the month that I was gone she had forgotten all about our friendship and any feelings and came back a cold hearted, mean woman who wanted to only tell me how shit I was, that she had relationship interests and that Brandon had told her everything.

Naturally, I defended myself. Very passionately. I have never been angrier in my life bar the time my uncle tried to fight me and take his sadness out on me the night of my Grandfather’s passing. I blasted her for not having the stones to talk to me about it, for blindly believing everything he said, then laughed at her while telling her all of the cruel nasty things he had said about her and done behind her back all those years and told her I hoped she was happy with the shit decision she made. And that was the end of us. Not for good, but for that moment in my life the girl I knew and had began to fall for had died and your average, mean and hateful girl who would rather you know she’s getting new dick than let you try to be happy. Not that she ever specifically acted like that, I guess I just felt so hard done by that when she told me she had love interests that’s all I heard her say.

Anyway, the month leading up to this talk with her - the talk where I finally found out what went wrong, I had messaged her almost daily, basically begging her to tell me what was wrong, and she had the nerve to actually treat me like I’m stupid enough to believe the 180 in her behaviour and attitude towards me meant nothing was wrong and that she was ‘just so busy’. Georgia is good at many things but lying to me has never been one of them though she never ceases to try, always assuming I’m stupid enough to believe her. Nevertheless, I was relatively fine in this month, although sad and somewhat desperate. After the talk finally happened however I was broken. Everything I had done and in the end I walked away with no girl I love, nor the friends I originally had, who by chance happened to be all I had left in my life to begin with. I drank myself into the gutter, I used my last bit of money to pack my bags and catch a bus to the coast, where all of my friends I had met through my ex were, and I lived there, homeless, for the longest time.

I lived on park benches, in public toilets, broke, always hungry, always thirsty, always sore, always tired. I put myself through all of this because it meant more to me to be in the company of those friends than it did to be stuck in that miserable little town. I would occasionally crash at a friends place on the floor or on their couch, but I tried to do this as little as possible. A month or so in my friend Adam spoke to his mother about me and after some convincing [see, when I previously lived on the coast, I was also homeless for a short duration, then lived with Jackson and his family while trolley pushing before getting my own place, and during this time Jackson’s mother had innocently enough mistaken something on her credit card and assumed I had taken it and used her money - mind you I had never used one to pay for something before, I wouldn’t have known how for the life of me - but that gave me a bad rep as the families knew each other.] she had worked it out with her friend who needed somebody paying rent to help her cover costs that I could live there since I had just got a new job at McDonalds. She demanded I help her cover her phone bill, internet, and all matter of personal costs that no person renting a room should ever have to pay for, but I cared so little for myself short of wanting a room that I agreed. A week or so in, I sat in the loungeroom talking to her - she told me that she used to smoke weed with Adam’s older brothers, Hayden and Nathan, and I said oh yeah I’ve smoked with Adam, sometimes when our dealer doesn’t work out we call Nathan and he gets some for us through his dealer, and she went and told Adam’s mother that I had called Nathan my ‘dealer’ and the family just happened to have an uncle going to prison over dealing drugs at the time and it was an awful time for that fucked cunt to spin my words to try to get me in trouble [for god knows what reason, the help I offered would have saved her from her situation lol], the cunt was just fucked in the head I guess.

Anyway, that put me out of a home again pretty quickly. Then shortly after, while I was with my friend Josiah visiting his house [he occasionally gave me lifts to and from work], his mother found out I was homeless. It wasn’t an intentional thing, she asked me where I lived and I kind of just nonchalantly replied nowhere and then she said what do you mean nowhere and then I was just stuck in one of those odd situations where it was like ah man I shouldn’t have said shit, and I explained how I was technically homeless but it was ok that I had a job and I was sure I would manage to fix everything soon enough and there was no need to worry, but as it turns out Josiah’s mother is a beautiful soul and her response was pretty much ‘Is this true son?” - “Yes mum” - “Well no friend of my son is homeless if I can help it!” and bam I had a place to live. A normal place to live, with a normal family, that asked me for fucking nothing - $50 a week, it was crazy. I told them I could do more and they said nope don’t worry about it. So I had a place and a job and was living with a friend that became like a brother to me. Life suddenly wasn’t so bad. Josiah wanted to go to the Navy and was struggling with the motivation to get fit and pursue his goals so in my respect and appreciation for all he had done for me I pushed him and I helped him and I even resolved to go myself. I was genuinely going to go to the Navy because I had reached the conclusion that everything in my life so far was over and maybe I would find myself there.

And then Georgia came back. Now I don’t mean back in the full sense of the word. Georgia has been back once - briefly - at the start of our relationship for two months, in the entire time since then. I mean back in the true sense of what her and I were, and can be. But regardless of just how there she really was, she was there.

This time was different. She told me that she had realized that I was right about Brandon. She tried to laugh it off like it hadn’t hurt me so bad. I could tell she just wanted to talk again and despite how much I wanted to hate her all I saw was the chance that maybe that beautiful girl I fell in love with would come back. She asked me what I had been doing and I told her, although not in specifics, or why my life had turned out like this, because I didn’t want her to know I had gone downhill since she took Brandon’s side over mine, because the actions were still my own, as influenced by my sadness as I was. And that wasn’t ultimately her fault. I told her that I was planning to go to the Navy.

This is where she gave me one of the biggest slaps in the face she’s ever given me. She told me no, don’t go. Now we were both young and stupid in our own ways but as a woman with history with a man, you don’t beg him not to leave for the navy unless it means something. I felt that tug on my heart strings right away. That spark of belief that maybe there’s something here that her and I both want to bring back to life. I said I’d think about it. She pleaded with me not to go, that she wanted me here, that she wanted to meet me. I did the only reasonable thing a guy in my situation would do. I met the girl I had loved so badly. We only knew each other online, so we both had to bring a +1. Well, I didn’t, she did to feel safe. I could have taken both u bitches don’t forget that if you’re reading this Georgia. I’m just messing around of course. Uh.. yeah. anyway. I met her. I met the girl that had turned my life in so many directions. And I wasn’t wildly blown away by how perfectly beautiful she was or anything. Not that she isn’t beautiful - she is, incredibly so, but it wasn’t 100% this beautiful cliche meeting. I couldn’t stare the girl in the eyes. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, I didn’t eat the city food she ate, I made a fool of myself, I wasn’t even sure who I was eating with, if she still thought about me the same way, and it didn’t feel like she was all that interested if I’m perfectly honest. But I was so happy to have finally met this amazing beautiful woman that I actually didn’t hang onto those negative thoughts for once. I was so happy. I told her I wouldn’t go to the navy. I missed my appointment, which black listed my name and made me unavailable to attend again for a big period of time because I was ‘unreliable’. I gave up what I was working towards. She seemed happy. Then I asked her when I could see her again. When I could do our date over and not be so weird this time. It never happened. And she disappeared again. Just like before. The girl I loved had never really come back and after destroying my life when she left, to fixing it again.. I had ruined my chance at a career based off her desire that was never real to begin with and she was gone again. So again I was broken. But this time I was.. almost hateful. I didn’t know who the girl was anymore. I let it go. I hated her. She never cared about me, I told myself. She just wanted to fuck around with my life. She probably only met me to see if I was worth sleeping with. I told myself all kinds of things. And then I did something I’d never done in my life. I quit my job, I told my Dad to come and pick me up and for the first time since I was a young child I lived with the father I had hated all of my life and I tried to become as much like him as I could to forget the memory of her. You see, my dad was a womanizer and a man whore but he had a natural talent for it. He was such a manipulative person that he had developed like a subconscious art for getting laid. I wanted that. I trained with him, I worked the same job as him, I lived through the abuse of his own depression and sex addiction, having my head pinned to the floor while he choked me and told me I was weak, being insulted every day of my life because he saw my mother in me and he resented it, I lived through it all just so I could forget about Georgia, and everything else in my life. All I wanted was women and money. And before I had the chance to get either, months, maybe half a year into living with Dad, after I had quit smoking and been training and studied for the job he set up for me, Georgia comes back again.

This time I throw my money at her. I tell her to come visit me. I don’t want the fake bullshit game with her anymore. If she’s interested she needs to be interested. I’ll treat her like a princess if she treats me like a human being. I tried to mix all the things my dad did with my own self, and my new found positivity and energetic outlook on life being so much healthier and fit than I was before. I thought maybe if I can be so appealing that we don’t have to play the same games as before, if she just comes and spends time with me, real time, not like the time in the city, maybe then this girl will love me.

And I spent stupid amounts of money on her. She even said to me “You’ve spent more on me than any real boyfriend ever has” and all I could think was cool well do I get to be your boyfriend. She stayed the night on one of her two visits to me during this time. She took my bed, and messaged me to come close the blinds for her. Every part of me told me that she wanted sex and to go for it, but I told myself no, you have loved this girl so many times, for so long. All of those years were not spent just so you can get a pitiful one night stand. Ask her out. So I went in to close the blinds, and when I looked at her.. she seemed so genuinely disinterested. I realized in that moment that to her I was literally a slave closing the blinds. I wrote her a letter, on the bench outside of my room for her to read in the morning, asking her to go out with me. She said no. Well, she said maybe, but anything short of yes with Georgia had always meant no. There was no real maybe in her heart, not to me. My dad asked me if I got any. I got mad, because that’s not what I wanted, but also mad because in my head I thought no I didn’t, not that I wanted it to happen that way, but now I’m certain it never will anyway. All he did was make me feel shit. He must have noticed and in his own jaded way tried to make me feel better by saying she was probably a gold digger since I said she comes from a well off family and her dad spoils her. I never told him these things in an attempt to paint her a certain way. It was more my innocent ramblings as I thought about her and I, and our history and all I knew about her. I told him she wasn’t like that. I told her what she said, and she basically disappeared. Then my grandfather, the closest man I had ever had to a real father figure and my favourite family member passed away and her and I lost contact all together.

I wouldn’t talk to Georgia for most of the next year and a half. Right after she disappeared this time, I quit my job, packed up my bags and asked my father for the money I had earned and put into a joint savings account with him. Enraged that I wasn’t following his every order and doing everything the way he thought I should, he told me I had no savings, and so I was homeless again. This time I lived at an internet cafe, paying $50 a week for access with my job as a marketer in a small business on the second floor above a series of restaurants - a little, quiet job tucked away out of existence. I mattered to nobody. I wanted no help. I wanted to die. I did drugs and I drank a lot. I met Jack, Steven and Corey during this part of my life, friends I still have now, my stoner buddies. Eventually it became too much and I had to go back to home.

I got a job at the BP with my friend Peter who I had met in the small town near the coast when dating Maddie, who I had then hooked up with my older cousin who he now had a kid with. A lot to take in. I became friends Nik again (previously nikita from my childhood/maddies ex, now sex changed). and his girlfriend of like four years Leah. Soon after Peter hung himself and I drove past his house to see the ambulance there as I went to cover his shift, just to find out what had happened mid shift. Work there was never really the same. Not for me. I hated everybody. A new guy named Kevin started working there, him and I moved into a new place together so we both had our own place and we smoked weed in all of our spare time. Nik and Leah broke up and I let Leah manipulate me like an idiot. She told me Nik had always been paranoid that I’d take her like I took Maddie (literally not what happened) and that behind my back he hated me and he only used our friendship as a way to keep tabs on me and look like he didn’t care anymore and when I tried to talk to him about it, since she had been doing nothing but hanging around my house (hanging around kevin more than me, pretty sure she fucked him at some stage), he didn’t talk to me. And that was it. I believed her shit. I told her I would help her sort her life. She quit her job that was giving her like 8 hours a week so she could find a new one. I covered her expenses - her fuel, her food, her smokes, her bills, her new tyres on the car - then she began flirting and I honestly didn’t are about Nik by this stage because I had been convinced she was not lying about it by his actions and I fell for the trap and kept catering to her, talking to her about how she wanted to move and stuff and how I was gonna help her do it- just to find out she had been planning on leaving town literally the moment her car was fixed [which I was paying for] and cutting me from her life. So I got a tattoo on my right shoulder, a lilypad with ‘Upendi’ written on it. I got the tattoo for my sister, because Leah her and I watched the movie The Lion King 2 together and in the love scene they ride lilypads and sing the Upendi song [which means love]. But Leah’s nickname was also lily. See she didn’t know that I knew about her bullshit yet. So I told her I got it because ‘she liked the movie’ and because ‘I wouldn’t love again’ to make her feel bad and I told my sister it was just because she told me it was her favourite movie and I have love for my siblings. Although the ‘I don’t want to love again’ part did resonate with me, I literally inked my skin to spite that bitch. And I don’t regret it because the real meaning of the tattoo is beautiful and now I’m inspired to get one for all family members. Anyway, that was the end of that. I called my Dad [going back for round 3, or 4, or some shit] and said hey I want to come live with you, organized it, quit my job, and left. I spent a few months with him working odd jobs I could find, swapping here and there trying to find something better, getting high all of the time with my mates Jack, Corey and Steven and attempting to study a diploma in website development which by the way was fucking boring as shit I hated it lol. And enter Georgia, again. This time was different. The moment I saw her name pop up in my inbox, I didn’t open the message. I went to a brothel. I fucked some girl. I literally tried to push her out of my mind by being with another woman paid or not. But eventually I replied and we started talking again. But this time there was no spark. There was no life to it. She just messaged me because she was in a toxic relationship and I guess all males she had in her life were gone in one way or the other - or maybe she genuinely thought of me when she needed help, maybe because of when she was overseas and I supported her then.. I don’t know, she’s never told me, all I have is my own speculation as to why she chose to message me. But she did. And for the better part of the first month, I actually managed to crush feelings for her. They didn’t exist. I got high every day, I worked my job, I did my own thing, and I occasionally messaged my damaged female friend who needed relationship advice. And I didn’t really care about it that much, I just told her my honest take and left it at that.

I can’t remember what the trigger was, but one night she snapped. Maybe she hated how in control of myself I was being. Maybe she had been playing games with me all along and she hated not being the game master now. But she snapped and said ‘You know you love me. Admit it. Say you love me. Tell me you love me.’

And even though in my head I thought I’ll bet my life she’s playing some sick twisted game on me right now, after like two hours of her flirting with me and asking me to admit it, I caved, all the memories of the good times where she had made me happy, not miserable, came back, and I said I love you to her. In the end I had helped her get out of her toxic relationship with that guy, which I spent the next month doing, even after I found out she had cheated, something which almost made me delete her from my life on the spot, on a guy since I had been out of her life, because I had been so badly burned by crazy and unfaithful women, I still couldn’t make myself fall out of love with her. I wanted her. She hated my life with my dad. She knew he mistreated me again and that I was never happy. So for her sake, not for mine, I moved back home. But I hadn’t finished being caught up in my terrible memories from home yet. She gave up on me for a little while yet again.

Then she came back and I told her, I would move to a new place, where Tyson my best friend was. There I would get back in shape, be happy, work. She seemed happy about this - involved again but then basically the moment I made the move, she wasn’t there again, when I needed her. And I didn’t hate her for it. I was numb. I worked one day at the job I got, realized I was too physically unfit to work the ten hour shifts at a meat factory, that I should have taken the dominos job, was forced to leave my friends house because without that job I had no more time to use up living there freely. So I left without saying a word to them, early in the morning, I drove until I ran out of fuel and I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t answer calls from my mother for most of the following day, eventually answering to tell her that I didn’t care, that I wanted to sit in my car and I wanted to starve to death, that I had no more fuel, not to send me money, that I was over it all. And I meant every word of it. But she sent me the money anyway. And as much as I wanted to fill the car up and drive off a bridge, I was raised by this mother all on her own, and I love her too much to do that to her, or to my friend, who I had left without a word to, or my siblings who I loved.

So I made the drive home across state. At first I pretended to try, I signed up for uni, I failed my semesters, and wasted most of my year doing that. Fighting with my step dad. Letting my mother down. Setting a bad example for my brother. I stopped caring. I contemplated suicide again. I googled how to do it in the ways my scaredy cat ass could find painless. Overdose, easy for me because I like to indulge. Bullet, easy for me because we have guns in the house. Those were basically the two options I found and I contemplated them every day.

My lack of action - complete stillness in my bed, over indulging in food, feeling like I had given up on life, not having any goals, or desires left in my heart.. it turned me into a fat sad guy who sat at home doing nothing but playing games.. using memes and the friends I’ve made on voice comms as my new escape from reality. Doing the dishes made my legs ache from standing still. Not because I was morbidly obese, but because my body had grown so weak as well as getting bigger.

Then, one day, once again.. Georgia returned. And this was the first time Georgia ever surprised me. You see, when she returned this time, I said the most selfish, yet honest thing I have ever said to her. I said Georgia, I do not care about myself, I do not care about anything, I am a shell of the person I used to be, and I do not care. I do not want a fake friendship with you, I do not want the same thing we have had over and over again through these long painful years, I do not want it. The only thing that I have ever known I have truly wanted - and the only thing I can still tell you honestly that I want, is you, but not the you that you’ve given me for so long, the real Georgia, the girl I know and love. I want to love you and be loved. I will not be in your life any longer, short of being your partner. I said this because I sincerely believed she would leave as a result, but also because it was sincerely how I felt in my heart. I’m sure if she had said no that day I could have easily killed myself and finally got it over with because it would have been the most succinct ending to our story and I would have been ok with that.

But Georgia said yes to me. She said yes. She said let’s try. She said let’s be together. It sent me into shock. I didn’t believe her for at least a week. I was sure she was going to destroy my life any moment and break my heart into a thousand pieces but she didn’t. Even though I kept my defenses up for the entire first week. And to make things better, it was the girl I knew and loved again. She was back. She spoke to me, she communicated with me, she was excited to have me in her daily life, to let me know what was happening, to spend time playing games with me.

And for the first time in years I felt love and happiness more real than ever before. All along I had wanted this girl back, now she was back - and she was mine. She was my partner, my love, and she was beautiful, and energetic, and happy, and intimate, and compassionate, and understanding. It was like we had gone back in time and undone Brandon’s lies before they could take effect. Like everything was back to normal after all this time.

I played games with her every day. I spoke to her every day. I encouraged and supported her. Financially when she had no work, and even when she first got new work so she could spoil herself without setting herself immediately behind. I tried to understand her anxiety, what set her off, what made her happy and unhappy - it was a learning experience for me, she even threatened to leave a few times and I quickly learned what to do and what not to do. However I did not yet work. I still do not as I write this. I did not stick to a healthy routine. I did not exercise routinely. I made her promises and I wasn’t yet sticking to them. Although this was born out of laziness it was also born from pure happiness. I lived every day in a daze of love, catching up on love and happiness I felt I had been missing my entire adult life. I’m sure she noticed I wasn’t hitting my goals but she didn’t mention it. I was still me, and I was so supportive and helpful and just there for her to love her and never let her hurt. And she knew that.

But then I had a bad fight with my step father. He threatened to kick me out, said I was going to have to leave, and I was convinced. Georgia was stressed out and angry about how they treated me, but also angry at me, however she would not tell me that, instead she would internalize it and let it ruin us slowly, because that is what her anxiety does to her and she is as scared and as damaged as I am. I sent her the last of my money, and I asked her to buy my an internet dongle - so we would not lose the ability to communication, I promised to turn my car into a home and use my payment to get to a new town, keep data on the dongle, charge my phone through my car and never lose touch with her, so she would never have to worry. I had it all planned out. The only thing I did not account for in my costs was my antidepressants. The medication I had begun taking at her request so I could make bigger strides in getting back on my feet and out of my rut. They did help, I just failed to consider them in the big picture, as without a home, without my prescription from this town, without the stability, how would I afford life plus the medication weekly? I didn’t see how I could so I didn’t think to factor it in.

A week passed since the threat, I had gone a week without my medication. Georgia had grown somewhat distant at the beginning of the week, before my mood had begun to turn. She spoke to me less. She didn’t want to play our game with me anymore. She had found somebody else to play with. She needed the friend to help her because she felt she could not confide in me because of my situation. So she left me in the dark again when I needed her the most. But this time I lashed out in jealousy and anger. I accused her of not loving me. I told her she was running away from me again. That she was giving him my place. That she wanted nothing to do with me, that she was getting rid of me. I felt it in my heart too because I know exactly how she acts when she begins to, or has already left me. And I was in the wrong for lashing out the way I did, and it made me feel terrible. But she had started to go when I needed her the most - and after that, she was gone again, the way she usually was.

She assured me that we were still together. But she never spoke to me. And I saw her online, with him, and with other friends every day. I saw her see my messages, but never read or reply to them. I saw her gone. I messaged her frantically daily. She asked for space. I tried, and could last no longer than 2 days at a time without messaging her. She scoffed at this as if it was a weak effort. As if it was normal for her to want me to be able to not talk to her for so long. As if I wasn’t meant to miss and love her. As if I wasn’t meant to feel like she has abandoned me when I needed her and when I had trusted her. I had hurt her by lashing out but she had hurt me back in return and while my cruelty and rage was brief, her neglect and vagueness was never ending and it hurt me more than I had hurt in years because in my heart I believed she knew my situation, that she would not be like this solely because I had hit a low point because I had a rough few days without my medication, that surely she had always thought more of me during all of this and that it was less likely she would leave so easily and more likely that she no longer loved me..

So after a month of waiting, of begging, of staying distant, of caving and trying to connect, I made the decision to go. I removed her from my online contacts, on social media, on my phone, on the game we played.. I deleted her number, the photos, the conversations.. I blocked her on everything and I told her goodbye for good. Moments after I had finished doing this, my friend, Hayden, also friends with her on the game told me that her in game message was ‘Happy Girl’ and I cried because all I could wonder was how someone who claimed to be my partner, who claimed to love me, could be a happy girl in the company of this other man for a month while I suffer and cry out for her every day. And that’s when I decided I was going to hurt myself, bit by bit until I was ready to end it all. So that night I lined up as many of my antidepressants as my mind would let me take and I downed them all, quickly fell sick and passed out. I woke up the next day, more miserable than ever. I sat there. The day flew by me. At the end of the day, I lined up two weeks worth of anti depressants and a drink. And I sat there and began to google how much of it you needed to take before it became lethal. Because I wanted it to be lethal. Georgia and I were over. She had run away and disappeared like she always had and acted as if I was dumb enough to not see it. Especially when she had so easily given my spot to another person, when she had made me stare at her spending all hours of her day with him, every day, for a month when she knew how hard it was for me to trust, when she knew how depressed I was without her. The girl I loved knew me too well to do that and think it was innocent in my eyes. The girl I loved knew that I knew her too. So the only reasonable answer was: She doesn’t love me, she hasn’t this entire month, and her anxiety and fear of me killing myself is the only thing stopping her from leaving and being happy. So if I leave and kill myself where she will never see or know, then everything will be fine and she won’t get hurt.

And then Hayden, the same guy who broke my heart by telling me her league message was ‘Happy Girl’ after all my suffering, told me it had changed to ‘girl’ after the final message I sent. It shattered me. It broke my resolve. It gave me some faint hope that maybe she loved me. So I undid it all and I messaged her. And I told her the thing about the message. How it had given me hope. How I was so incredibly sad and desperate. How I needed her to tell me what she felt. That I needed her to come back if she loved me. That I was sorry. So much was said. Most of it my rambling, because I over think and I ramble when I’m depressed and she ignores it and hides when she’s anxious and depressed.

But she said she was here. That she would come back. Like she was admitting she had been gone after all this time, without actually saying ‘sorry for telling you that I wasn’t.’. But that didn’t matter and I just wanted her back.

That is the story so far.

Georgia has said she loves me, and she knows I love her. She said that she will come back. I don’t understand why it is so hard for her. Why she still leaves me in the dark, why she spends no time with me, why it feels like she’s hardly back at all. I try to be strong but every day I spend without the loving relationship we had breaks me down again and again. I do not know what to do anymore. I do not know how to get her to come back. To understand my pain. To understand her worth to me. To understand why I keep begging, even when it seems selfish. She is still not back. Not truly. I know it in my heart and she knows I do. And I need her back so desperately. I cannot fight my snappiness and disappointment and sadness when I am so painfully aware of how little she is trying to come back nor can I understand why she does not try like she did. It hurts me so much.

So I write this now. This explanation of the story of Georgia and Cody, intended only for my eyes and hers, unless some strange soul stumbles upon this post and invests the time to read. I keep most important details short of our names hidden for obvious reasons. I intend to use the rest of this page for daily entries. I want to record my depression. I want to record every emotional reaction I have to her, to what she says, to what she does, and I want to write it here. I no longer want to be vocal about it to her over the course of the day. I just want to tell her I love her. I cannot fight her on it anymore. So instead I record my pain here on the daily, so that I can show her, at the end of the day, or the end of the week.. whenever it may be, I want her to be able to come here and read the raw emotion poured onto this page. I want her to know I love her and I am trying to process this. I want her back. I just want her back so fucking badly. If there is a god I pray you guide my girls heart back to me. So yeah.. this was the story so far.. daily entries come next..

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