#rosa writes

[lucydacusgirl]

Not to post my own writing but do you ever think about how Claire looks at Cas and sees something her father was never able to become.... but also how she loves the person that took him from her...

[littlewetbeast]

When the feeling comes to him, Cas immediately knows who it is - Claire, many miles away, alone in her room. The yearning flares and flickers in his too-human chest. He brings up his cellphone and calls her that night. They speak together quietly, talking about nothing, until her voice loses the teary-thick edge and becomes mumbled with the need for sleep. Cas reaches out with his grace - the feeling is subdued now, simmering quietly, slowly ebbing away. After a skipped beat, Cas asks, “Is everything alright, Claire?” Claire pauses. For a moment, Cas worries he’s said something wrong. “I’m good now, Cas,” she says, finally. “Thanks for calling.” After they hang up, he texts her a flower emoji and a cat meme he finds on the internet. Claire texts back, u are so embarrassing, but reacts with a heart on the meme. After that, the longing abates. ** When he tells Dean about it, he whips around towards him, eyes wide. “You feel longing? Like - how?” “It’s... hard to describe,” Cas says. “It’s like hearing a silent prayer.” Dean nods slowly, swallows, then turns back to his laptop, suddenly engrossed in whatever is onscreen. After a minute, he opens his mouth, but whatever is on his mind, he never gets to say it - Sam enters the motel room before he can, carrying a large pizza, and tells them about the lead he accidentally stumbled upon. Cas sits with the feeling while they talk, only half-listening to their conversation. It lingers there, quietly, with an undercurrent of restlessness that he never manages to place. He doesn’t know how much Dean is aware of it. It never fully goes away, no matter how much they talk, no matter how many times Cas needles the thoughts and worries out of him, and it builds up like an ache, a constant reminder that he may never fully understand him. The longing remains, like a small wound that never heals up. He doesn’t tell Dean this, and they don’t talk about it again. ** It flickers again, and Cas looks up. Sam is looking down at his hands as he is leaning on the impala, worrying his lower lip. Cas walks around the car and settles next to him. He watches Dean inside the gas station, who he knows is taking an unnecessarily long time to avoid both of them. The car ride has become unbearably tense after a snappy argument between the brothers, about what Dean considered to be Sam’s needless recklessness on the case. Cas wasn’t sure if he had helped or made it worse by taking Sam’s side - in any case, they had both earned a cold shoulder from him. “Dean is an ass when he’s worried,” Cas says. Sam side-eyes him, then huffs out a laugh. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, he is.” The conversation drifts onto other things. Last week’s terrible movie choice, groceries they need to pick up, the book Sam is getting through. Finally, Sam goes quiet again. “You know,” Sam says, “I know you've said you struggle to understand humans, but you really have developed a sixth sense for when I need someone to talk to.” Cas doesn’t know what to say to that. Sam shoots him a smile, and claps him on the shoulder. “I’m just trying to say I appreciate it, man.” Cas smiles and says, carefully, “I’m glad I can help.” “You help by being there,” Sam says.  Cas wonders about that. For a second, he considers telling Sam - how his presence around Dean seems to make it worse, how he never seems to be able to say or do the right thing, and that no matter what he does, the yearning remains.  Sam is easier - always is. When Dean finally walks out of the gas station, still looking sullen, Sam’s shoulders are less tense than before, and the longing is gone. In the car, Sam and Cas continue their conversation about the book, and when they get home, Cas grabs Dean in the kitchen.  “What,” Dean says. Cas gives him a look. The longing simmers, quiet and restless. Dean heaves a sigh. “I’ll talk to him.” “Apologise,” Cas says. “Yeah, yeah,” Dean says, waving his hand dismissively. He glances back up at Cas, eyes flickering down his face. The feeling pulses in Cas’ chest, entangling with his own emotions, a swirl of heat that he quickly squashes down. By the end of the night, they are all on good terms again. Later, Dean insists on another movie after Sam has gone to bed. His leg rests against Cas’ thigh and doesn’t move away once, and Cas tries to avoid thinking about that - about the feel of him, the heat radiating from him, and the yearning still pulsing softly between them. ** It culminates in an argument, as things between them often do.  “You don’t get it,” Dean growls. “Dean,” Cas says, exasperated, anger rising in his chest, “You don’t talk to me, how am I supposed to get it if you don’t tell me?” The feeling is thrumming between them, hot and biting, and it flares angrily every time Cas speaks, as if his words keep fanning the flames. Cas had followed Dean to his room - determined to fix it, whatever it was, and is reminded with every second that he can’t. “Oh, spare me,” Dean snaps. “I know you use your angel psychic mind reading powers, don’t give me that crap!” “Dean. I can’t read your mind,” Cas says, running a hand down his face. “I told you, that’s not how it works!” “Come on. Every time I-” Dean swallows, tearing his eyes away from him. “You come to me, every time. I know you can tell. I don’t say anything, but you come. You know what I’m talking about.” Cas shakes his head. “Dean.” He steps forward, but Dean holds up a hand in the space between them, stopping him.  “I’m not precious, Cas,” he says - his voice breaks, betraying him. “You know how I feel and it’s - too much. I don’t want to be pitied.” “Dean,” Cas says, hopelessly. “I don’t understand what you are saying.”  Despite himself, Cas can feel his eyes water, emotions too large, too human, ones he has never managed to categorise or identify, feeling all of a sudden too much for his human body, the one which is supposed to belong to him now and yet feels so alien. ”I try, Dean,” Cas says. “But I don’t know what you need. Please,” he begs, “just tell me.” Dean looks up again, meeting his eyes, and the feeling expands, heady. His eyes are soft, unreadable, but the anger has gone. The air is thrumming, pulsing with it, almost impossible to breathe in. Dean steps forward, and then they are inches away from one another.  “You’re an idiot, Cas,” Dean says, and then his lips are on him. The air hums, the yearning expands - and then, as Cas grabs Dean’s shirt, sighing contently into the kiss, it finally settles, warm and sated in his chest.

[ofallthings-creative]

Stephen finds the area after a few more minutes of walking and he crouches to the nearest patch of land where the herbs are, smiling at the sight of the lively green blanketed by a very thin layer of snow. It always amazes him at how these plants survive on this mountain given its unnaturally cold climate. 

Life finds a way.

He is unearthing some of the herbs and gently placing them on the basket when he hears it. A crackle of the rocks coming from behind him that is not easily caused by the mere wind and Stephen slowly straightens his body, his mind bringing him back to the present. He then hears the raspy breaths of another person approaching him.

He’s not alone. 

--

Crepusculum Deorum: Chapter 6 - The Long & Winding Road <- Link here!

[miyabinopenguin]

Fandom: Inazuma Eleven. Title: I wish I could hate you... Ao3: LovelyRose95. Rating: T. Pairing: Kidou Yuuto x Fudou Akio. Characters: Fudou Akio, Kidou Yuuto & Kageyama Reiji [mentioned]. Additional Tags: Canon Divergence - Inazuma Eleven 3, Mister K Arc, Light Angst. Word Count: 341. Summary: Bitterness. Distrust. Betrayal. They were the only things that he got from Kidou, and yet, he could not stop worrying about him. Author's note: I wrote this prompt challenge in 2018. I really like it so I decided to translate it in English and correct some parts. Thank you so much to @zibiremu, I love you Patcito 💜✨.

Bitterness.

Distrust.

Betrayal.

They were the only things that he got from Kidou, and yet, he could not stop worrying about him. The pain in his chest grew with each passing minute, while he was judged by those eyes that his teammate kept hidden, and Fudou believed he would never see.

It would have been so easy to solve it with the truth, but he was well aware that it was impossible with Kidou. He knew it from the moment they crossed paths again, and he reconfirmed it when Kidou mistrusted him without a second thought. The mere mention of his ex-mentor made him assume the worst and deny any explanation before Fudou could even think about an argument against his accusations.

What was the point of explaining something to someone that would never understand? Of telling the truth if they'll never trust your words? Of loving someone who only thinks about the worst in you?

The answer was easy: There wasn't.

It was pointless explaining him that he wasn't working for Kageyama, and he actually wanted to show him on his whole face that he wasn't a second rate amateur. Because any kind of friendship they've tried to establish during these months, always broke down whenever Kidou doubted him. His reasons and explanations didn't matter if Kidou kept living in the past, looking at the shadow that Shin Teikoku left on his back.

"I wish I could hate you..." he whispered for himself, observing Kidou sneaking out of the dorms. He didn't need to ask, neither follow him to know where he was going. Fudou knew perfectly well that Kidou was returning to the Argentina zone to keep investigating about Kageyama.

"...but I can't."

Concerned about whatever was going on in the mind of the playmaker, Fudou grabbed his soccer ball and headed down to wherever Kidou was going. Knowing there were probably more accusations waiting, with ice cold stares, full with bitterness.

But he didn't care.

His only concern was to avoid letting Kidou fall in the darkness, again.

[smugglypuff]

/CRAWLS OUT FROM A 5 MONTH LONG WRITERS BLOCK

I LIVED BITCH

Title: Thaw [For Snotweek 2017]

Fandom: MGS

Pairing: Snake/Otacon; Otasune

Summary: Cuddling with Dave isn't all it's cracked up to be sometimes.

Hal rarely went to bed at a reasonable time.  One in the morning may not be listed as “reasonable” for most people, but following continuous all-nighters or staying awake until the sun came up the following day, he personally listed this as “reasonable.”  He had been unsuccessful in finding any leads or new information regarding their, his and Dave's, new goal.  

Their.

It was still all new to him.  Hal was so used to working alone, being isolated, but now, things were so different.  He had someone-- a friend, a partner, hell, a lover-- even after all this time, the thought still makes him blush a deep red.  It was an adjustment, one he didn't think he would have made so easily, but that was just it.  Dave being around felt so natural, like they've known each other their whole lives.  The engineer buried the side of his face into his pillow; he really needed sleep, he can think sappy thoughts later.

A few hours of rest passed before Hal heard the click of the apartment's front door.  Currently, they were in hideout number five-- a dingy studio apartment in the Midwest.  It was better than basement apartment on the west coast with no AC, or the shack in Alaska with no heat, but it was still colder than Hal would have liked, even under four blankets and the sparingly functional space heater.  Peaking his head out from under the covers, he reached for his glasses he set on top of his laptop in an attempt to identify the dark figure in the entry way.  Hal already knew the answer, he just wanted to see him.

“Just me,” Dave's gruff voice came through behind the thick scarf that Hal forced him to put on before leaving, “Go back to sleep, doc.”

Reluctantly, Hal's arm retreated back into the warmth of bed, his head falling back onto the pillow.  He turned on his side as Dave flicked on the too bright bathroom light and didn't bother closing the door.  A few moments passed, the apartment became dark again, and the side of the bed dipped under Dave's knees.  Hal relaxed, a sleepy sigh left his lips.  He had been waiting for this; after working all hours of the day, with little to no breaks or time to eat, this was all he wanted.  The soldier slid under the mismatched, multiple blankets, one arm under his own pillow while the other reached over to pull Hal closer, his bare legs entangled with Hal's and--

“Jesus Christ, Dave!”

Hal shot his legs out from under the covers before bringing them back up to his chest.

“What?”

“Your feet are freezing! God, do you even wear socks?”

“To bed?”

“In general?”

“They're not that cold,” Dave argued, trying to pull the other back towards him.

“No, oh my god, don't touch me if you're going to touch me with those things you call feet,” Hal huffed, swatting his hand away.

“Oh?” Dave raised an eyebrow, “You think that's bad?”

“Dave, I swear to god--”

Hal felt the sheets lift up behind him, followed by an eerie silence.

“David, I'm warning you--”

The soldier made no other comment, no noise, not even a smug chuckle.

“David--!”

The engineer nearly jumped out of skin when Dave's hands made contact with his bare skin.  A minimum amount of his strength kept Hal pinned down to bed as his near frozen feeling hands clamped onto the younger man's chest.  With little to no luck, Hal couldn't even wiggle himself out of the other's grip.

“Seriously?!”

“Bet you'd prefer my feet now, huh?”

Hal's free arm reached for his pillow, reeling it back to smack Dave weakly in the face with it, “You're such an asshole!”

With a full belly laugh, Dave maneuvered Hal flat on his back on the mattress, still keeping him pinned down for the most part.  One flash of that rarely seen smile, or rarely seen to anyone but him, and Hal felt dumbfounded, at least for a moment.  The soldier noticed, thinning his smile down to a sly smirk, before dipping down to meet the younger man's lips.  Another smack in the face with the pillow stopped him short.

“Jerk,” Hal huffed, a grin marked on his face still.

“Nerd,” Dave's muffled voice came behind the pillow.

Hal kept the pillow in place, blocking the marginal space between his and Dave's face, for a few moments before finally moving it again.  The same smirk was plastered all over the older man's face; Hal found it too contagious sometimes. His arms now freed from Dave's weight on top of him, he pulled him into a lazy hug.  

“Finally warmed up to me?”

“Shut up,” Hal feigned annoyance before crashing their lips together.

[littlewetbeast]

the fact that dean’s love language is gifts. how he grew up prioritising his little brother never going hungry at the detriment of himself, constantly moving from place to place with only what he could carry, how he is severely protective over the objects he keeps. the fact that he put together a mixtape for cas, which are a bitch to make and can take hours and hours to complete, because he wanted him to have a physical extension of him, a reminder of him. the fact that he would have given cas a cassette player with it, which cas wouldn’t know how to use, and how he probably had to step forward, flustered, putting the earbuds in for him, pressing play and watching cas’ face carefully as the song began, heart thumping loudly in his ears. how hurt he’d been when cas had tried to return it to him later, clearly not understanding the meaning of it, and maybe, he’d think to himself, it was because angels weren’t able to feel things that way, because that thought made it hurt less. how he probably couldn’t stop giving cas little gifts, despite it feeling heavily one-sided, simply because he could, because he wanted cas to have them, and because saying it out loud was out of the question. a book, a movie, a song, over and over, i love you, i love you, i love you.

[littlewetbeast]

alright so, i am putting a place for the left behind on a brief hiatus. it turns out that being at the last push to finish my exams and my undergrad, applying for scholarships for postgrad, taking an additional class, working part-time, and being the only one at home to care for my (still sick) dog and three cats, has predictably turned scheduled dates for fic posting into a stressor rather than a fun past-time :))) which is a surprise to absolutely no one but me. so i gotta find some way to take the load off, and this is it. i look forward to posting some stuff in may, including an extra short dean pov standalone! thanks so much for your support and patience ❤️

[littlewetbeast]

a place for the left behind, 5/?

Word count: 51k

Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/OC, Explicit Sexual Content, Human Castiel, Cas is finally shown some goddamn love and appreciation, Bamf Castiel, Jealous Dean, POV Castiel, Endgame Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining

He finally meets his eyes, and Dean watches him like he’s about to say something else—opening his mouth, then closing it again.

“Yeah,” he says finally. He hovers for a moment, then dips his head, and sets his mouth. “Good night.”

Dean leaves, his form losing its shape in the darkness. Castiel listens to his feet crunching the gravel until they meet the squeaky wooden steps of the porch, advertising every step he takes on the way.

“Whew,” Mel says, shaking her head. “What a guy.”

Castiel tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

Mel watches Castiel thoughtfully for one moment, then smiles—not mockingly or teasingly. “He likes you a lot,” she states.

His mind blanks as he locks his eyes onto the water bottle. It’s got a blue cap, still held in his hand, and a peeling, blue brand around its body that he doesn’t recognize.

Mel says, “I mean, you know that right? You’re friends?”

“Yes, we’re friends,” Castiel says, and screws the cap back on.

“Friends like each other,” Mel says slowly, but Castiel knows there is more she’s implying, and his body goes slack, leaden with exhaustion at the thought of it.

Read chapter 5 on AO3 / Read from the beginning