I Just Finished Supernatural, I Have No Idea What To Do With My Life Now. Help!

Snippet Sunday !!

What do you mean I'm finally writing for Children of the Sea again? To celebrate, here is a little snippet from the next chapter, without the names obviously so as not to spoil anything.

Publication date is tentatively set for December 25th. A little Christmas present.

"The ties that bound them together were forged in the heat of battle, sharp and broken metal melding to create the most powerful weapon of all. A crew, a family. Through blood, sweat, and tears. To the ends of the ocean."

DAY 10: Did It Hurt When You Fell From Heaven? (Like A Bitch)

Castiel is learning to be human. It hurts. In more ways than one.

Why is Castiel so hard to write? I have a lot to say about him and his character but he's so self-unaware that it's impossible to write. I love him but he's very frustrating. Fandom: Supernatural Character(s): Castiel Words Count: 1,317 Triggers Warnings: - Glaring Self-Esteem Issues - Minor Blood and Injuries (at the end) No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

The cashier sighed heavily and Castiel looked up long enough to offer a small, embarrassed smile before continuing to count the coins in his hand. The credit card Dean had given him had stopped working and was requiring Castiel to enter the PIN. But Castiel didn’t know the PIN, it was written on a post-it note and hidden in a book in his locker. He hadn’t had to enter the PIN in the few weeks since he’d left the Bunker and had simply used the “contactless payment” but now the “contactless payment” wasn’t working.

Embarrassed, Castiel set the money down in front of the cashier, the coins falling from his open hands like a waterfall and clanging against the metal counter. Behind him, the line continued to grow as the supermarket’s customers grew impatient in hushed tones.

“Is that enough?” Castiel asked.

“Dude, seriously?” complained the cashier.

With a glare, the cashier began counting the coins, much faster than Castiel could have. He was an angel (not anymore) , he had been an angel with all the knowledge of the world, past and present, but he couldn’t count a few coins.

Being human was much harder than he could have imagined. The world was both brighter and dimmer than it had been. He no longer heard the prayers of Humanity but heard the birds singing when dawn broke; he no longer saw the invisible forces of this world but saw animals forming in the clouds.

He also had to sleep and eat and wash and relieve himself and it never ended. It was exhausting .

The experience gave him a whole new appreciation for humanity—for Dean and Sam.

(Castiel didn’t know if he could do it.)

(Castiel didn’t know if he wanted to do it.)

A feminine hand rested gently on his shoulder and Castiel resisted the urge to fight or flee as his skin quivered from his shoulder to his heart (a blade cutting into his flesh, the buzz of a drill approaching his eye, the cracking of his bones under a punch) . Castiel calmed his pounding heart and turned, staring into deep green eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the stranger smiled. “Do you need help?”

“Oh no, it’s fine—”

“There’s not enough,” the cashier cut in impatiently. “Twenty dollars short.”

Humans only had two eyes, but Castiel could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on him, as heavy and terrible as the forces of Heaven. Castiel didn’t know until then that he could be embarrassed.

“Oh, I’ll go put some items back in then,” Castiel replied.

“I can take care of the difference,” the stranger intervened behind him.

Castiel didn’t have the chance to refuse, the cashier practically snatched the bill from the stranger’s hands and signaled Castiel to make room for the next customer. Castiel put his groceries in his bag and waited for the stranger, wanting to thank her and reimburse her.

“Thank you for your generosity, I can reimburse you if you so wish,” Castiel offered.

“It won't be necessary,” the stranger replied kindly. “You needed help and I was able to give it to you.  A little help and kindness can go a long way.”

(Castiel couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had blood—that of his enemies and that of his friends —on his hands.)

(Castiel couldn’t remember a time when he’d been kind .)

“But if you want, you can help me carry my groceries to my car. I hurt my wrist last week,” the stranger explained. “My girlfriend’s going to scold me again for moving heavy loads.”

“Of course,” Castiel replied, carefully taking the bags from the stranger’s hands.

“Thank you very much,” the stranger smiled. “My name is Claire, I’d shake your hand, but it looks like your hands are full.”

“Steve, nice to meet you,” Castiel said, his throat tightening inexplicably.

But the hardest thing about his new humanity was the guilt , the memory of all the people he’d hurt. How did humans function when they felt so much? On the best days, Castiel felt like he was going to shatter under the weight of his emotions.

“Are you new around here?” Claire asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“It’s only temporary,” Castiel replied, knowing he was lying to himself.

(A part of him hoped Dean would change his mind, that he could go back to the Winchesters. But now that he was no longer an angel, he was nothing more than a burden, someone they had to protect and who would slow them down.)

(He didn't want to cause them any more trouble than he already had.)

(Dean had already been kind enough to give him enough money for the first few months.)

"I hope you like it here then," Claire said pleasantly, opening the trunk of her car. "It's a quiet but nice town."

"Thanks," Castiel replied, putting the groceries in Claire's car. "Have a pleasant day."

"You too Steve,” Claire returned the sentiment. “It was nice meeting you."

Castiel greeted Claire and left the parking lot towards the gas station. He still had time before his shift but he didn't want to be late. This job was the last thing he had in addition to being his place to live. He couldn't afford to lose it.

The sun was warm against his skin and a cat was lounging on the hot tarmac outside the supermarket. Castiel crouched down to pet it, a small smile forming on his face. The cat was grumpy, not appreciative of being woken up, and its scowl reminded him of Dean. Castiel pulled out his phone to send Dean a picture but changed his mind at the last moment. He didn’t want to bother him.

(He didn’t want to know if Dean would answer him or not. Probably because he already knew the answer.)

Castiel straightened up, the heel of his shoe digging into his damaged skin. Even walking hurted and Castiel didn’t want to spend too much money on bandages to cover his blisters. He just hoped he hadn’t bled through his socks again. He couldn’t vanish the blood off his clothes with a wave of his hand anymore. 

(Humans were so fragile. Castiel wondered how they didn't die immediately.)

“Have a pleasant day,” Castiel said to the cat who curled up to resume its nap.

Castiel continued on his way, quickening his pace, and more than ever missed his wings. Not necessarily because he could cross the globe in a second if he wanted to—although that was very convenient—but because he couldn’t remember the last time he had flown just because he could.

(His wings had been clipped—by Heaven, by the Winchesters , by himself—long before his Fall.)

(His feet had not left the ground these days, not even in his dreams.)

(He had only himself to blame.)

.

He wasn’t the only one who thought that.

A sharp pain spread through his skull as a metal bar came down hard on the back of his head. Ears ringing in shock, Castiel dropped his groceries, his carton of tomato soup exploding as it hit the ground.

Castiel staggered, leaning on the wall to keep himself from falling. His head spun uncontrollably around him. He felt like he was falling off a building. But no one was there to catch him.

A warm liquid flowed from the back of his head to the back of his neck, his blood pulsing mercilessly in his temples. Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he fought back vomiting from the pain.

He couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t see anything.

The pain clouded his vision, turning the world into a series of blurry, indistinct shapes. Every sound seemed distorted, like a distant echo, as terror began to overtake the pain.

Green eyes glowing menacingly were the last thing Castiel saw before he lost consciousness.

Dean.

Fun fact, the story with the credit card at the beginning happened to me when I was eighteen and got my first credit card (the part where I forget my PIN after only using contactless payment for weeks, not the part where someone pays for my groceries). So Castiel is going to experience my embarrassment too. Poor Castiel, he discovers that being human sucks. You have to sleep and eat and even worse you Feel Emotions. And that's not the worst thing that will happen to him later. Speaking of later, I have ideas in mind but given the number of stories I have to write, I think I'll only write it if you're interested. (Or in several months but it's not sure.) Let me know what you think.

Eating is secondary. You know what's really important? Testing every possible combination of the picrew that @mischa-makowka made.

So, look at what I made during my discourse analysis class. Plus, I had this exact hairstyle today. I would have loved to use this as my profile picture but I really like my current one (baby luffy!) so I'm putting it here instead.

DAY 13: Till Death Do Us Part

The end of a crew. The end of a legend.

If you haven't seen the "Character Death" tag and you don't like when your favorite characters die, there's still time to turn around. The entire crew dies in this story, it's not a spoiler to say that. (And, the warnings will be put at the beginning of each chapter, in more or less gruesome ways.) I was looking for a poem to be the story's guideline but I couldn't find one that fit what I was looking for. And even though I don't really need it anymore, I decided to write it myself. The first real chapter will be coming tomorrow or in the next few days but in the meantime I left some clues on how each character dies if you want to decipher them. I originally wrote the poem in French and was unable to make it rhyme in English, to my great disappointment. So I left it for you in French with the translation for each line just below. Fandom : One Piece Character(s) : Mugiwara Kaizoku | Straw Hat Pirates Relationship(s) : Mugiwara Kaizoku | Straw Hat Pirates & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Straw Hat Pirates Words Count : 629 No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

À bord du navire des rêves,

(On board the ship of dreams,)

vivaient dix animaux

(lived ten animals)

Tous suivaient leur capitaine,

(All followed their captain,)

un singe avec comme couronne un chapeau.

(a monkey with a hat as a crown.)

Le tigre partit le premier, 

(The tiger left first,)

protégeant jusqu’au bout ses camarades.

(protecting his comrades until the end.)

Mais son dos resta intouché, 

(But his back remained untouched,)

marquant l'ultime preuve de sa bravade.

(marking the ultimate proof of his bravado.)

Le cheval solitaire fût le suivant,

(The lonely horse was next,)

son vieux squelette ne tenant plus le coup

(his old skeleton no longer holding up)

Ses amis ne le laissèrent pas seul un instant, 

(His friends did not leave him alone for a moment,)

tenant sa main jusqu’à son dernier pouls.

(holding his hand until his last pulse.)

La fin commença avec celle du caméléon,

(The end began with that of the chameleon,)

son courage inspirant le monde entier

(his courage inspiring the whole world)

Même devant la Mort il ne baissa pas le front,

(Even in the face of Death he did not lower his head,)

lançant sur la mer les navires par milliers.

(launching ships by the thousands into the sea.)

L’ironie n’échappa pas au canard,

(The irony did not escape the duck,)

quand ses yeux se fermèrent de leur plein gré.

(when his eyes closed of their own accord.)

Il aurait aimé que cela arrive un peu plus tard,

(He would have liked it to happen a little later,)

sombrer dans les bras de la mer dont il avait toujours rêvé. 

(to sink into the arms of the sea he had always dreamed of.)

Le taureau résista sans jamais faillir,

(The bull resisted without ever failing,)

quand se déchainèrent les sévices des enfers

(when the torments of hell were unleashed)

Il accueillit la fin avec un sourire,

(He greeted the end with a smile,)

tel était l’adage de l’homme de fer.

(such was the adage of the iron man.)

La chatte affronta sa fin sans ruser,

(The cat faced her end without guile,)

maîtrisant une dernière fois les éléments

(mastering the elements one last time)

Elle ne s’enfuit pas même si elle était effrayée,

(She did not run away even though she was frightened,)

libérant un pays entier du tourment.

(freeing an entire country from torment.)

Le petit renne choisit de rester,

(The little reindeer chose to stay,)

refusant de tourner son dos à ceux dans le besoin

(refusing to turn his back on those in need)

Face à la maladie il ne cessa d’essayer

(Faced with illness he never stopped trying)

et sa compassion causa sa fin.

(and his compassion caused his end.)

La seule grue qui avait réussi à fuir,

(The only crane that had managed to escape,)

finit par retourner à la maison

(ended up returning home)

Pour une fois elle ne pût pas courir,

(For once she could not run,)

et enfermée, elle se plia à la raison.

(and locked up, she bowed to reason.)

L’ours fût là quand personne ne pouvait plus l’être,

(The bear was there when no one could anymore,)

Guidant son capitaine jusqu’à la dernière minute

(Guiding his captain until the last minute)

Il ne laissa jamais sa peur paraître, 

(He never let his fear show,)

Continuant jusqu’au bout pour lui, la lutte.

(Continuing the fight to the end for him.)

Le singe resta le dernier,

(The monkey was the last to remain,)

Seul et froid au milieu de la nuit

(Alone and cold in the middle of the night)

Quand il partit, personne n'était là pour l’en empêcher,

(When he left, no one was there to stop him,)

et il prit le soleil avec lui.

(and he took the sun with him.)

the specific tragedy of marineford's events aside ace is just a wild character to watch. he's the coolest big brother on the seas. he's a fucking dork. he's hated himself his whole life. he goes around tits out all day every day. it's because he's tattooed his devotion to whitebeard on his back and wants everyone to see it. he can solo a buffalo with a metal pipe at age 10. he cannot shut up about luffy even when he's in jail waiting to die. he's narcoleptic. he's a serial dine-n-dasher. he's the patron saint of daddy issues. he learns manners specifically to thank shanks for saving luffy. he's kinda shit at them. he doesn't run from fights. he doesn't let himself run from fights. he doesn't think he CAN run from fights. he crashes a party on buggy's ship out of nowhere and steals the food. he infiltrates a marine base and doesn't even bother to hide the very recognizable tattoo on his arm. he steals THEIR food. he immediately blows his cover because he decks the shit out of someone for dissing his captainfather. he's still eating while he gives them the slip. he goes to kill kaido and bonds with his son instead. he knows how to make a kasa. he forgets he's fire and keeps accidentally burning them. the narrative doomed him and yet his love and the love for him refuses to die. the world loathes him on an existential level. he chooses to be kind to the people in it, even so.

conclusion: aside from the antlers, i'm really fucking close to my fantasy version, and i want to dye my hair again.

Picrew Timeeee

Irl vs Fantasy you

Open tags!

Im gonna be so real can yall actually talk about ways we can support trans women in the UK instead of giving all the attention to fucking JKR. I already know that Harry Poter sucks, I wanna know how to actually HELP people. Something something you have to love the oppressed more than you hate the oppressor

“Hey Lulu, I'm sorry it took me so long to come back,” Sabo, Fake-Sabo, Sabo said softly, all the affection in the world hidden in his words.

And suddenly Ace was ten years old again and he and Sabo were coming home from a hunt in the forest without Luffy and Luffy was crying because he thought they had abandoned him and Sabo was consoling him with kind words Ace wasn't capable of and all was right in the world.

The room was silent, everyone stared at Luffy and Sabo/Fake-Sabo, trusting Luffy's judgment.

“It doesn't matter, you're back”  Luffy replied, taking Sabo in his arms and smiling like the idiot he was.

Sabo, still chained, patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, his arm bent like a T-Rex.

“I'm back,” Sabo said and his words sounded like a promise.

“Forgive my vocabulary but what the fuck ?” Trafalgar asked, his sleeve still smoking. If he didn't want to kill Ace before, he definitely did now. Ace cowered before his glare.

“Ace, Ace, look, Sabo is still alive!” Luffy exclaimed, turning to Ace.

Ace approached Sabo cautiously, like someone would approach a wounded animal or a disappearing mirage. Only, he didn't know which of them was which. When he was close enough, Ace reached out his hand towards Sabo. Like a mirror reflection, Sabo copied his gesture until their fingers were only millimeters apart. Time stood still for a moment as Ace held his breath.

It was Sabo who took the first step towards, Ace making the first contact. Their fingers intertwined, hesitantly at first. He could feel the warmth of Sabo's hand under his leather gloves, surprising Ace who was expecting the cold touch of a ghost. It didn't take less for Ace to throw himself into Sabo's arms, crushing Luffy between them. Sabo staggered under the weight, and collapsed to the ground, his brothers in his arms. The red-haired woman took a step to the side to avoid being swept away with them.

Sabo was there, Sabo was really there.

Ace buried his face in Sabo's shoulder, covering his shirt with tears. Sabo laughed, still in disbelief, and the vibrations of his laughter resonated through Ace, warming his core all the way to his toes. Stuck between the two of them, Luffy stretched out his arms and wrapped them around his brothers, pulling them even closer to him. A missing part of him came together, completing a puzzle whose pieces he thought he had lost.

“Okay, can someone explain to me what's going on?” asked Trafalgar.

“I don't care, yesterday I had no brothers and today I have two,” said Luffy. “Ace and Sabo are there, that's all that matters to me.”

“I give up, you can all die for all I care. It doesn't concern me anymore,” declared Trafalgar, throwing his hands in the air, as he left the room.

At The Dawn of Time, ASL Reunion

@bartylily-microfics | april 2 | rainstorm | 828 words | warnings: none

After the Rain

Thunder rumbled in the distance the moment Lily stepped outside the library, dark clouds stretching across the summer sky. She quickened her pace, hoping to reach the bus stop before the rain started. The ozone in the air tingled her nose in the best way possible, sky and earth intermingling in her lungs. She loved that feeling just before the storm—before the world fractured in a burst of lightning. It was like standing on the edge of a building, never leaning too far to one side or the other.

Lily had lived her whole life like this, on the verge of explosion. But she had everything perfectly under control.

Flood poured from the sky. Raindrops hit her skin as she ran to the nearest awning, pulling her jacket over her head. It was just her luck that she chose to take a tote bag today, her computer and books were going to get wet. Lily leaned against the wall of a closed cafe, watching the rainstorm unravel before her eyes.

The streets were deserted, as always in August in their town, everyone having gone on vacation. Except for—

“Fancy seeing you here, Evans.” Barty's voice was dripping with sarcasm, a smirk tugging at his lips. He ran his hand through his wet hair, strands of green-dyed hair escaping through his fingers.

Lily kinda wanted to kick him. 

“What are you doing here, Crouch? I thought you would be on the French Riviera this time of year,” Lily retorted, more out of habit than anything else.

She and Barty weren't exactly friends, rather their friends were friends (and some of them were dating depending on the week) and they had known each other since elementary school. They had some sort of unofficial academic competition and Lily hated his guts most of the time.

Lily had accompanied him to throw eggs at his father's company at the beginning of the year. Barty had brought her food every night during exam periods.

“I bailed,” Barty shrugged as he sat down next to her, pressing his shoulder against hers. “There's no place I'd rather be than here.” 

Lily's laugh caught in her throat, shivering as her wet denim jacket clung to her skin, drops of water running down the back of her neck. Her half-undone braid fell pathetically over her shoulder, and she'd caught a glimpse of her smudged eyeliner in the window earlier. 

She looked as tired as she felt, and school didn't start for another week.

“So, Lils,” Barty drawled, “what are you doing here? It's pretty dead this time of year.”

“I just wanted to be ready for the start of the year. I really need this full scholarship to go to college.” Lily replied. Two years ago, she would have rather died than admit this to Barty Crouch Jr, but if anyone could understand the crushing weight of expectations, it was him.

There was no pity, compassion, or disapproval in his eyes as he smiled at her, just understanding and amused fondness. “Looks like we'll be continuing our little date nights this year too.”

“Looks like it,” Lily said, realizing with a flutter how close Barty's face was to hers. He had a new piercing above his eyebrow. 

“I missed you this summer,” Barty said, his eyes lingering on her lips. 

Lifting her head, Lily straightened up to kiss Barty on the cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. She stared straight ahead, watching puddles form on the road, the occasional car driving through them and sending drops flying into the air, as she whispered. “Me too.”

The rain beat against the roof reassuringly and comfortingly as Barty put an arm around her shoulders. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sticking one between his lips. His lighter flickered before lighting, the end of his cigarette igniting and Barty inhaled, throwing his head back. The tattoo on his throat stretched over his Adam's apple, disappearing beneath his white t-shirt.

“How’s your sister?” Barty asked, smoke escaping from his lips. 

“How's your father?” Lily retorted, playing with the rings on Barty's fingers.

The laughter they shared was bitter. Barty offered her his cigarette and Lily blew the smoke in his face playfully. Barty pinched her ribs and Lily doubled over, a laugh ripping out of her. 

“You should laugh more often,” Barty breathed into her ear, his lips grazing her skin.

Lily sighed contentedly, leaning into Barty's chest, a blissful smile illuminating her face. She stole the cigarette from Barty's hand again, letting it burn between her lips.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Crouch,” Lily said light-heartedly. 

"I wouldn't dare," Barty grinned lazily, tucking a strand of Lily's hair behind her ear. He flicked her dangling earring with his fingertip. “New earrings?” 

Lily shook her head affectionately, stealing another cigarette from Barty's pocket. Together they watched the rain fall and the sun rise behind the clouds, a rainbow forming above the buildings. 

Rouge meets Roger a few months after she enters to the New World. He's funny, flirts with her endlessly, but more importantly, he has a ship. So she flirts back, lets him buy her a drink or two, and at the end of the night, she steals his ship. And his straw hat for good measure.

Roger chases her to the docks, his crew behind him, and by the time he gets there, Rouge has already cast off. Roger's fingers almost close around her wrist, a ghostly touch. The wind rushes through her sails, and Rouge blows Roger a kiss as she laughs away from the island.

A few weeks later, Rouge has all but forgotten about Roger, except for the fact that she's living on his ship. She could sell it and buy one more suited to her needs — a smaller one for starters, living alone on a ship that big feels like a ghost ship — but something's stopping her. There's life everywhere she looks, memories, of Roger and his crew. She almost feels bad for stealing it, not just the ship but what it represents.

But Rouge lives her life without regrets and it's not like she's going to turn back now.

Life goes on and so does Rouge.

Roger catches up with her the next day.

Rouge wanders the streets of the city, restocking her supplies to leave. The island was pleasant enough, with long sandy beaches, but adventure awaits. The air pressure increases as she exits a store and Rouge swallows to clear her aching ears, watching the clouds for any sign of a storm.

The danger does not come from the sky.

The crowd parts around him instinctively, and Rouge stares into his gray eyes. That's where the real storm is, dangerous and beautiful. Roger smiles, Rouge starts running.

They run through the city, between market stalls and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Rouge almost lets Roger catch up with her once or twice before running out of his reach again. Adrenaline and joy flow through her veins, giving her wings. But when she reaches the port to set sail again, his crew is already there, aboard her ship.

Rouge stops abruptly and Roger lands next to her, laughing cheerfully. Jolly Roger, they call him. The pirate who laughs all the time, even when his sails are red with blood. Rouge wonders if she made a mistake.

"It's been a long time since I've had this much fun," Roger says, and there's a sort of breathless happiness to him that makes his eyes sparkle.

Rouge, who expected self-righteous anger and sharp steel, drops her hand from her dagger in surprise. His first mate scolds Roger, telling him that they had already lost their ship once because of him but Roger continues to laugh.

Rouge sees her opportunity. "Do you want to keep this going?"

The glint of interest in Roger's eyes tells her she's already won. The first mate throws his hands up in exasperation.

"What do you propose?"

"A little challenge, if I can keep your hat for twenty-four hours, you let me go and pay my bill at the bar. If not, I'll give you everything back and I'll even work for you while I pay off my debt."

Roger crosses his arms in front of him, smirking. "But I already got my ship back."

"I'll steal it again then," Rouge replies, matching his smile.

Roger's smile, if that's possible, widens further. His crew groans in frustration behind him, as if they already know what their captain is going to do. The first mate pulls out a bottle of rum and settles down on deck.

"On one condition, I get my hat back no matter what the outcome."

"You think I can win?" Rouge asks, raising an eyebrow. She knows she's going to win, but it's surprising that Roger accepts, thinking she has a chance.

"I wouldn't dream of underestimating you. I know what you're capable of, my flower," Roger replied grandiloquently, bowing to her.

"If that's it," Rouge whispers in his ear, making him shiver. "The twenty-four hours start now."

And she runs away again.

I love Roger and Rouge so much 😭😭😭

Please send me your headcanons for them or send prompts for me to share them! I haven’t written these two for a while and I want to spread my love again

(You can send for Shakky/Rayleigh or even other ships too!)