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8 years ago

A Dormitory, a Dream, & a Distant Doppelganger

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My name is Lenny. If I was cooler like the rest of the guys on this floor I’m sure everyone would call me ‘Leo’, but I’m just a lanky freshman who can’t manage to make enough friends here at school. You know, they told me it would get better while I was picking up my textbooks off the floor a few days before graduation, but I still think about the assholes who used to bully me even as a high-school senior. I got good grades and managed to get myself a good scholarship to come here and study fine arts (I want to be an illustrator someday). Fuck it all, though, because when I came here I enrolled with assholes from their respective hometowns around the state.

Oh, and I was so excited to be moving into the Arts & Design community building on campus. I was assigned to live with artists, writers, and graphic design students from the entire university. As my luck would have it the building flooded in my wing and due to the massive influx of new students I had to move into a new location… They gave me three choices then. I could pay an extra few thousand dollars to move into the newest dormitory on campus (Crowne, which I don’t have the money for), hope for the best in the freshmen ‘Discovery’ dormitory (Laurel- it was already packed and would place me on the eight floor with no elevator), or move into Helena…

Helena was the second dorm ever made on campus and was still in commission. At first I thought all three of my options sucked but the school actually offered to waive my room expense so I would only pay for my meal plan on campus. They told me my scholarship covered this and Laurel would receive the same bonus. After I learned Helena’s dining hall was an up-scale buffet (well, at least for a college campus) and the rooms were a third bigger than anywhere else on campus, I took it. I ended up having to room with someone else but I didn’t care too much at the time. Kyle’s a really nice guy, actually, but that’s not the problem.

I remember telling my few friends from high school I was moving into the building and most of them expressed joy- the building was rather pretty for a dormitory and you even got a sink in your room. The lobby looked like it belonged in an old Jane Austen film- the molding covered everything and they had an antique grand piano donated by some big-shot in the 50s. There were only three floors and only one of them was designated for guys (the first floor was for students 21 and over and the top floor was for girls).

I was rather excited until Tanesha told me about the spooks in the halls. Everyone knew about the few weird stories around campus and how our school was known for strange occurrences and even paranormal activity. I don’t believe in any of that stuff… or I hadn’t, so I told her to not worry. We’d already sneaked into the library at night hoping to see the frosty janitor from 87’ on the roof and nothing had ever happened then. Nothing had happened these few nights after moving in. Nothing would ever happen at all.

I was an idiot. And at this point, I wish I was dealing with a ghost. Or a monster. I don’t know. Something tangible! Something I could maybe fight off, or fight back. God, I’m so fucking scared. I know it’s going to happen soon if I don’t move out of this building. I don’t want to disappear…

The first time I had the dream was about a week after moving in. Kyle (my roommate) may be a football player but he’s a nice guy and if anything I worried I might be taking advantage of his southern hospitality. He introduced me to his girlfriend and everything. The other guys aren’t too awful on this floor, either, albeit to a lesser extent. A lot of them are older and belong to fraternities from all around campus. They tend to be loud and annoying. A few of them are genuine shit-holes and they remind me of high school the most. They haven’t done anything terrible to me but they talk shit about women and pour ramen juice down the drinking fountains. I fucking hate that.

The dream is always the same. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes if I’m lucky- that way I don’t get to the worst part. At first I didn’t get very far in the dream, either. I just got a sense of dread from the beginning of the pattern. I would always wander the long hallways of the building in the dream before entering the poorly-lit bathroom. I have been losing sleep because of it, at this point.

I always wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. For some reason, Kyle’s out of the room. He tends to sleep over at his girl’s so I stress even more when I know he’ll be gone the following night. I stumble out of bed, dry like a bone and needing to use the bathroom. Bear with me, I know this sounds rather normal… I get up and open the door, the lights in the hall flickering on and off… on and off…

I’m usually in a graphic t-shirt with my favorite anime characters splattered on- that and basketball shorts so I don’t have to worry about being indecent in front of anyone. The dream is so real, I usually just wear the same thing. Most of the time I wouldn’t want my RA to talk to me (she’s really loud) but when I’m normally awake I pray she’ll stop me from going further down the corridor. She’s never doing her rounds in my dream. I simply drag my feet to the bathroom and go on about my business.

Then it happens. I finish and I decide to sit down. I’m half-asleep anyway, but I try to stay awake and hold myself up by placing my hands on the stall’s plastic walls. I can definitely feel my head tilt back and forth as if I’ve gone into a trance or something... that’s when I start to change.

I breathe in a long, heavy gasp and let out an even longer sigh of relief. It feels like coming out of a pool, as if I’ve never breathed before. My head then tilts backward so I can face the buzzing lamp above my stall, but my eyes close. I can feel the slight tingle run through the veins of my feet and upward. My hands slide up the walls slightly, feeling the coldness of the outside winds whisk through the frigid bathroom. The tingle makes my toes wiggle as I spread my legs apart a bit more.

At first it feels like my blood is pumping faster. I breathe a little heavier when the tingle runs through my groin… I hate how much I enjoy the sensation as it vibrates through my spindly legs. With a slight jerk my knees twitch and the tendons around them make me jitter for a quick second. I can’t explain it really well, but it’s like taking a deep breathe that you don’t let go of without choking. I breathe out just fine, but I do sense something else. The feeling pervades within me and I finally recognize that I’m… well…. that I’m getting bigger.

The pulse continues running up my root and I can’t help but moan. Nobody’s in the bathroom, I just moan softly enough to sense my cock twitching in my shorts. It starts running up my back, like warm water at this point massaging my under my skin. My stomach heats up along as I tilt my head to the side, my body slouching almost off of the toilet. The warmth starts becoming even hotter as I sense my head plunging into the sensation, my shoulders rolling back a bit to enjoy it too. The moment I feel it twitching through my arms I can tell my veins are pumping with warmth to my fingers.

At this point you must be thinking I enjoy this. I ultimately don’t… At least not when I’m awake. I don’t know why it feels so good when I’m in the dream. It just does. At first I wondered why I was so scared of getting to the bathroom if all I would do is wake up with a pair of sticky boxers in the morning. Kyle didn’t seem to notice so at least I wasn’t making noises in my sleep. Everything continued as normal and he even invited me to join the inter-mural volleyball team for our dorm. Due to my lack of coordination I had to decline.

There was just something inherently wrong with the dream, though. I knew that. It was as if I was being forced to experience such pleasure and that’s what really got to me. After I figured that out during my chemistry class I became determined to figure out the dream. I actually researched it and found that repetitive dreams often had to do with stress. I may be uncomfortable with myself and other people, but I didn’t think I was too stressed at the time so I went back to wondering what to do.

Things continued as normal and I only had the dream every once in a while. I had the dream barely at all. It was towards the end of September that I started having the dream every few days. I thought about going to the counseling center to talk to someone about it but I didn’t want to waste a professional’s time on something as silly as a wet-dream… especially if they might think it was stupid. In the end the dream continued to develop and I continued to feel the sensations more and more, to the point that I could sense more specific details and remember them in the waking hours of school. There was a point where I knew that the shadowy bathroom wasn’t just cold; a little bit of frost was blowing in from the open window. My dream was taking place in the upcoming months, and even though at first I didn’t realize it was warning me.

It was coming for me.

I was starting to lose more and more sleep. I don’t consider myself very strong but I’ve always done will in class so I avoided worrying about grades as the bags under my eyes got worse. My roommate started worrying, but I passed midterms fine and I think he must’ve talked to the dorm’s staff to check on me. They eventually had someone come to see if I needed help. I told them I wasn’t on drugs and that ultimately, I was fine. The nightmare kept developing, though.

My mind can’t help but remember it vividly. I would be in that bathroom stall, my head filling with some sort of energy… like water filling a pitcher I just felt myself becoming more and more full of it. That was when things started changing… I would feel the sensation of being full of this strange energy and it seemed to need expansion. And that was another thing I just didn’t understand.

Slowly, I’d feel my feet start to ache. My bones feel like they’re irritated and sore and I start feeling unable to breathe but instead, I just swallow more air. I in fact feel my blood pumping… rushing through me as my heart palpitates like an furnace full of too much kindling. Shit, that’s exactly what it feels like- I start sweating from how hot and fast my heart is going. It feels like it’s only getting bigger, too. Like all of me is getting bigger…

The sensation of my feet being aching spreads through me, and I stagger forward on my seat. I grunt and almost moan, as if I know what’s going to happen and as if I truly want it… I open my eyes to see my veins are thick and pulsing through my skin. Am I dying? Why does it continue? But I don’t ask these damn questions in my dream. I just welcome it. I feel my whole body tense up, like a giant cramp and I growl as my skin turns red with this strange… pump.

I’d been avoiding the bathroom on my floor for a while now, even when in daylight. I would have continued if the men’s bathroom downstairs wouldn’t have flooded a few weeks ago. I asked so many questions about the repairs and all I got was that they’d have to fix it the upcoming semester. The groans of the guys on floor 1 pissed me off only because their problems weren’t as big as mine.

Fuck, I hate that word. ‘Big’. I’m avoiding it, too. It’s a word that keeps creeping up on me. Not like a snake or a ghost, mind you. It’s definitely a hulking creature stalking me like its prey. I finally knew something was really wrong when I listened in on some of the bros as they got back from the gym.

“Yeah, I feel really great after today. Look at this pump!” the first one said, wearing a tank he had cut out himself from a t-shirt he got at the beginning of the semester.

“Damn, your arms look bigger already. No homo, hahah.” the other one commented in a chuckle. I thought it was all homo.

“Well they say that when you get a real, honest-to-god pump you’re actually looking into the future. You know, because your muscles are so full of blood or whatever.” Said the first.

“That shit’s kind of gross.” Laughed the second.

As if I needed this information (I suppose I did, but hopefully from a better source that would disprove my insanity), I recognized the feeling. It was the feeling of getting a ‘pump’. The only difference, however, was that in my dream it was continuing and I didn’t know what exactly would happen at the end of the ordeal.

I was determined to find out. I started researching dreams and finally contacted a private counselor via phone. It’s a nice service, I guess, and I could talk to her anonymously. She asked me how I felt about masculinity and other weird questions like my sexual orientation. I answered honestly when I told her I never really cared about being ‘masculine’ or muscular- I figured that’s what she was getting at. I just cared about my schooling and I didn’t really care to date anyone, man or woman. She eventually told me that maybe I had some kind of repressed sexual feelings, and that I could try exploring it a bit in a calm fashion.

I start squeezing my hands, feeling my fingers tighten as this pump fills me. I relish it, my head rolling forward as my back becomes heavier than I can handle. The pulsing sensation doesn’t diminish. It only makes me change. It feels so fucking good changing. I grunt and even moan when I feel my legs finally getting thicker. In the daylight I’m thin and my legs look like pale sticks of flesh. I don’t know why I love the sensation of them growing. I see shapes I’ve never really noticed on a body (mine, or others) as my legs get thicker… and thicker… and stronger… And the sensation only moves upward.

I just… it just keeps going. I feel my stomach tightening up and loosening, but only a little less than the wave that preceded it. I grunt as I feel my abdomen define itself, little bricks popping up through my burning-hot skin. I’m dripping in sweat as if I had any fat to lose to begin with and it hurts. Somehow I want it, I want the pain of this… growth? I just enjoy it so much as I feel my wrists shake and my hands clench up too tight. That’s when my pectorals start ballooning out. I usually buy shirts a size too big and I find myself quickly filling it in during this dream…

Nightmare. It’s a nightmare. I can’t let it be a good dream. I won’t.

I lost track when I hallucinated. I was walking down the normal street all students do here, and all while classes were ending. People go in all directions (we actually have a large record here on our campus for having the most busy pedestrian light in the state or whatever) and there’s no way you can get through on a bike. It was rather cold now, and I had already began dreading the first snow. I just remember walking through the crowds and hearing someone call my name. It sounded rather distant and I pretended not to hear just so I could get home faster. I’d just blame the distance to whoever would text me after the event.

Heading home, however, is a bit of a walk for those who live in Helena. It’s on the farthest corner of campus and nowhere near the rest of the halls. At night it’s completely isolated. The crowds disappeared at some point and I recognized someone was close by on the same path. I just kept going and payed no mind, but it wasn’t until I got to a main road that I turned to see things had already gone awry minutes ago.

There they stood- a hulking figure who had called out my name earlier. I recognized that they were staying about a block behind and they had been following me since I left class. I swallowed my breath and tried not to make eye-contact as I sped up my pace through traffic. They didn’t seem afraid, either. They were just eyeing me up, like a meal. I never took the time to see the features of this man in a black hood and hoped he wasn’t a hired thug. I almost ran into my building when I saw that he’d already disappeared.

I jacked off after the nightmare a few days ago. Kyle was out at his girl’s and even though my anxiety was killing me, I stayed here. Nowhere to go during the weekdays. I got to the point where I start growing… and fast. I woke up with a hard-on and my balls ached so badly. It felt like I’d not jacked off in weeks, seems like. God, I was so embarrassed. I still am. But, just. Growing. It feels so good in my nightmare. I don’t know what to do when my cock is just throbbing inside my shorts and I need a moment of calm…

Fuck. I just keep getting thicker. I finally understand why I groan in pain from the bone-aches. I think I hear a few bones pop, as if breaking and disjointing a bit. Maybe they’re just reframing so I can be taller. I can tell my feet are bigger simply by the cold surface of the tiled floor, meaning I’ve grown taller too. I’m already pretty tall, so god only knows how much taller I’m getting in this damn dream.

I know that whoever leaves that bathroom isn’t me. That’s what frightens me the most. He’s bigger. Cooler. Much stronger than me. But he isn’t me. What if he’s an asshole? Fuck. He’s really big, though. I’ve never cared about these things before. Why is this happening to me, of all people? What did I do to have this become my eldritch horror? I don’t want to disappear!

And yet, feeling my hands get thicker, calloused from deadlifting so damn much turns me on so bad now. Feeling my sweat drip off of my nose as I get water after a workout- something about it excites me. I’ve never cared about sports or eating extremely healthy. And fuck, somehow still it’s coming for me. What if I stop studying art? I got a letter with information on the business program here- of all fucking degrees, can you imagine?! This is his doing, I can tell! I’m going insane and it’s all HIS fault because he wants me to be bigger and muscular and I don’t know why!

It doesn’t matter. I haven’t gone to classes all week. I’m doing well enough that this won’t do anything for me, except get the board on my ass for skipping so much. I’ve told my teachers I’ll send the work in, I just can’t make it. I haven’t slept. It’s so cold. Everyone plans on going somewhere for the weekend and I’m stuck alone in this fucking place and-

And the dream finished, in full. Last night. I woke up and walked to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and pissed, then pulled up my pants. I looked up and closed my eyes as the weirdness filled me. Then I began to grow. Damn, every time it feels even more real. I feel my arms getting… thicker. Biceps that look like baseballs, and proceed to swell even bigger. Fuck- forearms that look like tree-branches from all the striations as I spread my legs. My cock actually grows, filling my tight underwear as I moan. I can feel my balls actually churning cum because I’m just that virile now… and damn, these basketball shorts just fill up with mass as I get thicker. I can’t think straight anymore, my quads just flex as I cross my clenched hands. Feeling my back pop and spread to the sides excites me so bad! I just gasp when I hear the first sounds of my shirt tearing down the middle!

I don’t hesitate, either. I just reach down to tug my shorts off- tearing them like paper, as I look down at my huge cock. It bobs up and down, looking like I pumped it full of air and left a cock-ring on it for days. I feel myself up, my fingers going through every ridge of muscle. Every little bump that forms around my abdomens makes me feel even wider. My waist must be tiny because I can’t really feel it at the side of my arms. My cock dribbles so much just tugging on my stretched out nips, too… I just keep slamming down onto my huge cock, dripping pre onto the floor and moaning like some kind of beast in the wild. I roar, claiming my new body as I flex my left arm up. The pleasure alone makes me feel more powerful than anything in the world could.

I haven’t’ slept. I don’t know if anyone will notice me disappearing, either. I keep having issues getting on social media, contacting people. I’m so isolated. I could’ve sworn I saw HIM walking the halls. He wants to take over my life. He wants me to be bigger. Be a different man. Keeps dangling it in front of me…

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe I’ll transfer into a cool business program. The guys there might not even be assholes. And we can fuck, too. No, wait. That’s not…. What I want. I need to sleep a little in the day and then not worry so much about night-time…

It doesn’t matter anymore. I was finally able to log in to my social media. I don’t exist anymore. All my profiles. All my pictures online. Even the ones just on my phone- they’re all of somebody else. Yeah, they look like me. He looks a lot like me. His jaw is just squarer… He’s almost as tall as a basketball player… I’ve grown thick hair all around my neck and keep it long on my head so it makes me look rugged… And I wear tight clothing so my pecs almost pop off my buttons… I look… really good. It’s time to down a glass of water, maybe, and wait for me to head to the bathroom. I think I see him… me… out in the courtyard waiting for me to give in. My window is open so I don’t fall asleep, but I think it’s time I closed it. It’s starting to snow.

The sensations I feel when I burst out of my clothes and walk over to the mirror are unmatched. I kind of want to see him staring back at me. We can flex together.

I can flex hard. Who knows, maybe this is a really good dream have, after all.


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11 months ago

Okay This Might Be Stupid: A Comparison of Adam Young and Aziraphale for Clarity Sake

Now I don't mean a comparison of their characters to say one was better than the others. It's more so a comparison of their personal relationships with Heaven and Hell. A comparison of how those relationships/connections formed their most impactful decisions with incredibly powerful beings.

Now...lets start with Adam Young and his relationship with Hell.

Okay This Might Be Stupid: A Comparison Of Adam Young And Aziraphale For Clarity Sake

...crickets

It doesn't exist. Adam Young had literally no relation to hell other than Satan being his biological father. He had his friends and his family and Hogback Woods. Nobody in Hell really came up to talk to him and Adam didn't KNOW he was the son of Satan either until he started coming into his power OR until the devil showed up.

Adam Young has no connection to hell aside from Biology, and Hell has no connection to him. Of course he was able to stand up to his Father and Heaven and Hell and his own Destiny.

Because he's so brave- I love Adam so much

Aziraphale and Crowleys talk with him gave him a bit more confidence

HELL HAS NO HOLD ON HIM

They couldn't sway him even if he wanted to. Beelzebub TRIED sure offering to him that he'd get to rule the world. But he didn't want it anymore. He was able to break away from what was written and make his own Destiny.

Okay This Might Be Stupid: A Comparison Of Adam Young And Aziraphale For Clarity Sake

Now...Aziraphale and Heaven.

Heaven has so much hold on Aziraphale- it's something else.

Emotionally, Physically, Mentally- Heaven is his foundation and fundamentals. They fed him the most rigid and incorrect ideas and lies and when he starts breaking from the mold they reprimand and belittle him until he's back into the shape they want him in.

They can watch him whenever they want. They already watch his miracles and got upset for having too many "frivolous" ones. They can pick and choose whatever they wish to do to/with him. He knew NOTHING of Jobs trials until the day it happened and the acted as though he was an idiot for not understanding.

HEAVEN has a hold on Aziraphale. Oh they have the strongest hold on Aziraphale- millions of years in the making. So strong that we can see the indent lines from their cold callous fists in Aziraphales words and ideals throughout history.

Okay This Might Be Stupid: A Comparison Of Adam Young And Aziraphale For Clarity Sake

So of course the Metatron could come down, manipulate Aziraphale, and get EXACTLY what he wanted for him. OF COURSE it's that easy for them to do.

When it's said Aziraphale had no choice- we don't mean the Metaton tied him down or beat his ass and screamed "GO TO HEAVEN! NOW!"

It means his going to Heaven was NEVER a choice to begin with. The Metatron did not come down from HEAVEN to ask a yes or no question. He wasn't gonna leave without a souvenir- the tartan wearing Angel made of the clay heaven can mold however they like.

Oftentimes when a parent asks you to do something- it is not a question. It is a statement- an order- formed as a question for MAYBE the sake of politeness. But there is no NO option.

When the METATRON comes down from Heaven and offered you the position of Supreme Archangel so perfectly and carefully gift wrapped and catered towards you there is no NO option. There is no version of that conversation where Aziraphale would have said no.

So...can we stop calling Aziraphale an idiot or an asshole or something for doing what was set in stone the moment the Metatron walked into the bookshop.

Okay This Might Be Stupid: A Comparison Of Adam Young And Aziraphale For Clarity Sake

TOODLEOO!


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11 months ago

People seem to gloss over everything in the conversation up until the kiss and Aziraphale saying "I forgive you". They keep talking about "what Aziraphale did to Crowley"

So...

Clearly energy and anger is going to the completely wrong place....

The part people seem to be mad about is the I guess rejection?

Okay...for the sake of this blog post let's all pretend that the rejection is the issue here..

Let's look at the Final Fifteen from the eyes of the people who think like this

Ahem...let's see if this sounds correct to you

People Seem To Gloss Over Everything In The Conversation Up Until The Kiss And Aziraphale Saying "I Forgive

[Start Scene]

This is Aziraphale and he used to work for the Heaven. Now that the Archangel Gabriel has gone off to pursue a life with his one true love, Heaven (who has FUNDAMENTAL ISSUES they refuse to acknowledge) is left without a Supreme Archangel to help carry out Heavens' big plans.

As it stands, since Aziraphale knows so much about Earth, he is Heavens most valuable asset and is best suited to be Supreme Archangel. The Metatron wants him no matter what because without him Heaven can't prevail. And he'd do anything necessary for Heavens Sake...

So the Metatron comes down and uses everything he knows about Aziraphale against him and every manipulation tactic he can to coerce and almost bribe Aziraphale into coming back.

So Aziraphale runs back to tell Crowley about this AMAZING opportunity-

Oh...Crowley is confessing...awwww

Why isn't Aziraphale wanting to stay with him?? Why does he want to go to Heaven?! It's not like anyone MANIPULATED him into wanting to go or something! (Sarcasm) Aziraphale WHY?! YOU'RE STARTING TO SEEM LIKE THE BAD GUY!

OH MY SOMEONE THEY KISSED!

....He said I forgive you... GRRRRR I HATE AZIRAPHALE 😡😡 HE NEEDS TO FLUTTER DOWN FROM HEAVEN RIGHT NOW AND DO THE APOLOGY DANCE BECAUSE HE HURT CROWLEEEEYY! AND MEEEEE! 😡😡😡😡

[End Scene]

People Seem To Gloss Over Everything In The Conversation Up Until The Kiss And Aziraphale Saying "I Forgive

....Do you see how this sounds incorrect?

Do you see how this doesn't make sense?

Aziraphale has been coerced and manipulated into returning to Heaven with the love of his life and what were focused on is him "rejecting" Crowley?

First of all- no.

He did not reject Crowley. He was pleading for Crowley to stay by his side in Heaven and make a difference with him. And Aziraphale was CERTAINLY not "choosing the Angel Crowley over the Demon Crowley" like people have been saying. Aziraphale has the HIGHEST perception of Crowley and sees him as kind! Aziraphale isn't saying "I want the old you" he's saying "I want to bring you back to the status you TRULY deserve since you are kinder and more caring than ANY other Angel I've seen."

Can we please stop acting like Aziraphale stomped Crowley out and, kicked him to the side, and then spat on him?

He was acting as he was puppeteered to act! And even then he didn't WANT to leave Crowley behind! Finally, we know Heaven is terrible but Aziraphale isn't going there to do things the way they're doing things! He's going there to MAKE. A. DIFFERENCE. To make things RIGHT! To stop earth from being nearly obliterated again! To stop Angels like the Archangels from acting like they're better than everyone else! To FIX THE FUNDAMENTAL ISSUES!

Step into Aziraphales shoes, use the dramatic irony* you've been gifted as an audience and THINK!

(*Dramatic Irony is when the audience knows something the characters dont just yet. The character being Aziraphale, what we know is that Metatron manipulated him)

And for SOMEONES sake stop saying he needs to "apology dance" because it's honestly ruining the dance as a whole! It's meant to be funny and a silly little thing between friends! A silly little teehee! Doing a stupid embarrassing dancing and singing a silly little song! Do not apply it to a situation where they need to COMMUNICATE!

People Seem To Gloss Over Everything In The Conversation Up Until The Kiss And Aziraphale Saying "I Forgive
I'm Pretty Sure It Was *checks Notes* The Metatron Who Ruined Everything And Did This To Crowley And

I'm pretty sure it was *checks notes* the Metatron who ruined everything and did this to Crowley and the fandom.

But by all means let's blame everything on the angel who has repeatedly risked his life to try to stop him and is now going back to heaven to try to bring about a universe where he and Crowley can be safe together.

I'm Pretty Sure It Was *checks Notes* The Metatron Who Ruined Everything And Did This To Crowley And

Also, hasn't the fandom repeatedly been over the fact that the apology dance is not an adequate substitute for real, open, healthy conversation and really shouldn't be used in serious situations where there are genuine hurt feelings happening?


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