#and charlie screaming at the world ''TELL ME I MATTER!!!''

[simptasia]

why didn't charlie call claire "luv". why didn't he throw out a casual luv at his friends. he's a northerner what else is he good for

#i dunno if americans understand this but #being from the north makes charlie so great #it just suits him so well. like it adds to his character #suffering is part of his cultural identity. did you know that? #suffering. and kicking and screaming for validation. begging an unkind world for recognition #a deep desperate ache to be useful!!! to add something. anything. to this world #in a culture revolving around manual labour he was obsessed with making art #do you get that?? do you understand what im saying?? #being from manchester adds texture to charlie #(for those who don't know: manchester is an industrial hell city that near every manc wants to escape) #it's an american show (and a lot of americans don't even get the north south thing anyways) so they obvs never touch on it #but its there. subtextually. woven in thru dom's beautiful husky accent. the brick dust in his veins #and charlie screaming at the world ''TELL ME I MATTER!!!'' #[looks at the tags] whoa what happened here #been thinking about north vs south england classism AND abc's lost lately so i latched onto charlie. also i love charlie #on the topic of classism: charles widmore would be disgusted that his grandson was named after charlie. and i adoooore that #so yeah the last sentence of my post was a joke. i respect the fuck outta northerners #but also charlie shoulda said luv <3

[venusacrossthestars]

Carnival

Summary: You love your boyfriend and you love the edits of your boyfriend that are all over TikTok, however your dirty little secret is soon shared.

Pairing- Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

wc-923

warnings- not proofread, at all. Carnival by Kayne West is the song in question, one sexual innuendo at the end, swearing and FLUFF

f1 masterlist

You were no stranger to TikTok and the editing trends that made their rounds. You have seen your fair share of edits or both real and fictional men. You have even come across a few of your boyfriend and they were, well a sight to see. The first time you liked one with your main account, that had sent the comments and the poor editor into a frenzy. 

You wanted to interact with the fan base, especially the ones on TikTok without acting liked a crazed girlfriend who thirsted over her boyfriend publicly. So you did what any sane person would do and you made a fan account for your own boyfriend, you never posted anything just liking edits and commenting on how wonderful the edit was. 

Charles had no idea and to be honest you didn’t really want him finding out. This was your dirty little secret, something you only looked at when Charles wasn’t home. How was it that these editors were so talented. Putting together a bunch of random clips, the coloring, the transitions, the song choice, all of it was beautiful. 

The song of choice at the moment was Carnival and you weren’t complaining. Your entire saves was filled with edits of Charles to this song. You have probably seen hundreds and you ate it up everytime. 

It was a random wednesday and Charles was off doing his workout and you had thought that there was no better time than to open TikTok and go scroll through your saves. Too lost in your own little world you failed to notice the front door open a close, signaling that Charles was home. 

The only thing that Charles could hear throughout the apartment was a song he wasn’t familiar with. ‘Go Go, go, go, go Head so good, she a honor roll She'll ride the dick like a carnival’. What the hell were you watching? 

Coming up behind you Charles could see his own pictures flash across the screen to the song. He watched as you scrolled down and to his surprise it was another video of himself to the same song. 

“What are you watching?” Charles ask. 

You nearly screamed at Charles’ voice, not expecting him to be back so soon. You turned off your phone and flung it across the couch, “You’re home early!” 

“No, No, No. We aren’t changing the subject. What were you watching?” 

“Nothing…” you say sheepishly. 

Charles raises an eyebrow at your tone, “Are you sure?” 

“Mhmm,” you hum out, “Absolutely sure.” 

Charles moves next to you on the couch and grabs your phone. You go to reach for it but Charles is quick to grab it back. “I think I know what you were doing.” 

“Charles,” you groan out “Give me my phone please.” 

Charles continues to hold it out of reach, no matter how you move or where you move to, he is one step ahead. “Not until you tell me who that handsome man was on your screen.” 

“Charlie, stopppp.” You groan out, “It’s embarrassing.” 

“Then I’ll just have to keep this,” he says, pocketing your phone. 

“Fine! I was watching edits of you!” 

Charles giggles out at your admission and you hide your face in your hands, heat creeping up your neck. 

“I want to see,” Charles says, “show me your favorites.” 

“Wow, someones is a little vain.” 

“I’m not the one who was watching edits of their significant other.” Charles teases. 

“Well now I don’t want to.” 

“Mon amour, please.” Charles begs and you turn away from him. You won’t fall victim to his pleading eyes this time.

“Mon amour. Mon cheri. Please my love. I’m not making fun of you I swear.” 

You could never hold your resolve to Charles’ pleading, “Fine, can I have my phone?” 

Charles hands you your phone and you are quick to unlock it. You exit the edit you were currently watching to scroll back up to the top of your saves. 

“I made a separate account to like and comment. One time I liked with my personal account and I think I nearly sent the editor into a early grave. I wanted to interact with the fans but I thought you might think its strange for your girlfriend to be liking thirst edits of you.” 

“I think it’s adorable,” Charles says, pinching your cheeks. You swat his hands away in embarrassment. “But y’know you can thirst over me anytime, right?” 

“Of course I do, it’s just these edits do something to me. I can’t explain it.” 

“Well let me see.” 

“Fine,” you scroll down to where you know the edit is, “This one has been real popular lately. There are more to this song, the one that was playing when you walked in earlier, I really like them.” 

You hold your phone to at an angle so that Charles can see the edit play out. He sits in silence for the whole thing and once it loops you pause it and wait Charles reaction. 

“Wow,” he pauses, trying to think of what to say next, “people really make edits of me to songs like this.” 

“Yes and I don’t blame them. You are very sexy.” 

“I can see why you watch them. If there were edits of you I’d be watching them all the time. Can I see another?” 

“Sure.” You scroll down to another Carnival edit and you watch as Charles is encaptured by himself. 

“Well the song got one thing right-you do ride dick like a carnival.” Charles chuckles out. 

“CHARLES!” 

taglist- (crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you)

@arieslost @spookystitchery @tpwkstiles @oliveswiftly @morgonjinn @herondalism @softieekayy @deprxssed-loser @noreri @boiohboii @im-on-a-hellavator @captainchickadee @whatever7justchillin @outerudeth @jscircuit @loveyatopluto @saiteliites @asparklysoul @missmontiopath @helanahaadock @froggybij @slaygirlbossworld @vee2004dee @tennisloversblog @slvtforredheads @senna13sworld @hellobeauty-06 @jaxx-7 @anastasiamoony @reguluscrystals @gr1mes-cc @yoooooooogiiiiiiii @sharlsworld @janeholt3 @valtkitty @wondergirl101ks @georgeparisole @m4dyl @janegxi @amberpanda99 @itsmeimthedissapointment @jah0700 @non-binaryandy @sarahskomal @anedpev @xqwiser @apllo-axolotl @h34rts4maisey @anonymousjo @megsmclaren @charizznorizz @decadentlightchaos @adelinemack @bwormie @bonbonvz @hoodshair @bunbun9396 @fangirlika @vex-et-soleil @sillylittlegooselings @hlhclh @stvrlec16 @omgsuperstarg @luanasrta @its-cat-eyes @taytaythirteen @marekmybeloved @rqlstefanny @nickxcorpse @olivyamarvelgirl @violyn20 @emisaxols @thesouistone @hangmandruigandmav @embonbon

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #cl16 #ferrari

[writersmacchiato]

Charlie Dalton? Got into a real dps mood after watching the movie lol

part time lover, full time friend (anyone else but you by the moldy peaches)

. . .

charlie dalton.

you had known him for years. there wasn't a part of you; for better or worse, that he hadn't seen. and you had seen him, for him, those moments that were so fleeting because he kept his true self so hidden from others, from you.

it was only natural that you developed feelings that veered toward the more romantic sort. of course, you were content to only be part of his life as a friend. it was easier that way.

and it was only natural that charlie ruined the content delusional world you lived in when he kissed you at a party.

full of liquor, feeling like you might be sick any minute, that all vanished when charlie placed that gentle kiss to your lips. full and sure of himself.

his thumb swiping over your cheek in a tender moment that twisted your heart painfully because...

because it was one thing to dream and fantasize about what it would be like to have this moment with charlie. to love him. to have him. but now that you had a small taste, it made the longing harder to bear.

especially when it happened again. and again. and again. until you came to expect it at least once when you attended a party with him.

it was only a matter of when, not if, your heart would give out - unable to take any more of this torture.

. .

charlie was a coward.

he knew it with every sweet kiss he bestowed upon you, it would be easier if they were passionate, lust-filled. an easy excuse. but it was never like that with you.

you were safe, you were comfort, you were home.

so of course he fell in love with you. he just couldn't tell you that because it was selfish, you deserved better than him.

he couldn't help, though, the careful way he touched you after a kiss. wanting the moment to linger, waiting for his heart to steady, hoping you would say something this time.

instead he pulls away, and instead of taking the risk, acts like the friend he's been for years until he can't resist his heart's pull to you.

. .

you're waiting for the train, shivering from the wind that is blowing through the open station. charlie leans against you, arm offering warmth, and maybe something else. you don't know anymore.

the train is late, the attendant had said so, but you didn't mind much.

conversation had been flowing for a while but dropped off into silence. and you didn't mind that either.

it was exhausting talking to charlie like there wasn't a giant elephant in every moment with him, screaming 'i love you i love you i love you'.

the train whistles and you look down the tracks to watch it approach, but you sigh when it's the wrong one. more waiting. passengers get on and off.

it leaves the station and there is a sudden darkness that takes over the area. you can see a few splatters of stars in the sky.

you turn to charlie, he's been too quiet, but when you turn he kisses you softly. a barely there peck.

completely sober, not an ounce of inebriation, looking at you with a look that sets your heart racing.

"can you forgive me for being a fool?"

you kiss him somehow, it's clumsy, you're smiling too much. and you almost knock charlie off balance, but he remains firm. returning the kiss with force.

"i think i can."

full time friend made into a full time lover.

#charlie dalton x reader #dead poets society x reader #dps x reader #dps imagine #charlie dalton #dead poets society #dps #dead poets society imagine #charlie dalton imagine #cam's ask game <3 #<<<< that will be my tag for the ask game !! #i hope you enjoy this!!

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 1

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 1: new haven, new me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Who...who are you?" the woman asked into the darkness, voice quivering as if she were cold. I encircled her, my sharp claws tapping the stone pavement and tail dragging behind. I was distorting the noises to make it seem like I was everywhere.

"I go by many names," I said sweetly, "Python. Snake Demon. Dragon Demon. All which fit me perfectly." I let the shadows melt away from me, revealing my Demon form to the scared Human.

I wore my usual outside attire: dark grey dress pants, black and silver clasp belt, black turtle neck, and a dark maroon blazer. It was topped off with the necklace of Alastor's crest. It became the crest of the Hazbin Haven guard command.

"What do you want?" she half demanded. Her face was coated in cuts and bruises and her leg was bent at an awkward angle from attempting to jump roofs.

I knelt down, my face inches from hers, and placed a daring claw under her chin. "Where is Blackwater's factory?"

Her scared demeanor faded, replaced by a look of anger and determination. "You'll need to kill me, then. Blackwater's legacy will live on in all of us."

"What a shame," I said as I stood back up, "I was gracing you with the opportunity to live. No matter, I'll take your soul and examine your memories." I gripped her soul half a second after she yelled. Her cries were no longer heard in the physical world, reaching my ears and mine only. The other souls I was holding onto were frantic for a new soul's energy. She could see their pitch black, wide, screaming faces.

Then I let go. Her soul fell back into her body and she stared up at the night sky, face as pale as a ghost. Her chest heaved with each breath while her hands gripped at the stone to ground herself.

"Last opportunity," I said, standing above her with my hands in my pants pockets. "Where is the factory?"

"I don't know." Her voice shook. "I'm not...I'm not allowed...to know."

"Then who does?"

"The trucks. They drop it off."

"When is the next shipment coming?" I then asked.

"Next month."

"Who's in charge now?"

"I don't know." I grabbed her soul and she freaked. "It is! It is! Since Blackwater died everything is need-to-know!"

I was silent. I continued to stare into her wide eyes, waiting. Leaving someone in silence usually elicited them to talk more. 

"I get the shipments and I'm just told to sell them. I swear!" She was telling the truth and my disappointment was overwhelming. I swallowed despite the tightness in my throat. I turned the emotion into anger as I leaned over.

"Tell me something useful if you wish to keep your soul in your body." I stared down, eyes brightening and teeth glinting in fake light. Her eyes widened in response.

"I-I-I don't know. I uh...there's...um..." I gave her a few minutes to think. The fear was clouding her judgement and ability to think so I let her ease up just enough to think. "Shipments don't all arrive at the same time to every location. There's probably some shipments still on their way."

"Where are the other sellers?"

She bit her lip. "I also don't know that, either."

I let out an annoyed sigh and straightened up. I knew who I needed to talk with but I hated interacting with him.

I looked down at the women shaking on the cold ground. She had given me the most she could provide. It didn't seem right to take her soul, but now she was a liability.

I stepped over so my feet were on either side and bent at the hip so I was close to her face. "This conversation didn't happen. If someone even suspects me I will return to harvest your soul. Slowly."

Mouth agape and shivering, she nodded. Alcine covered my whole body and I faded into the dark alley, hiding away in the forest on the outskirts of the busy town. Once I manifested, I teleported back home.

I took the long way around the house to give myself time to shed this version of me. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my arms and tail as if ridding the personality from my very body. I stepped up on the new porch, eyes glancing at the almost finished portion in front of the living room window, and quietly entered the house.

Reagan had made them all dinner and likely left something for me in the fridge. Not feeling very hungry, I used my magic to keep my steps quiet as I went to my room. I changed out of the dark clothes and put on shin-length loose pants and a white short sleeve. I stretched out my sense to see if any of them were still awake. Fortunately, they were not.

I climbed into bed and pulled the heavy covers up to my chin. I kept my dreams away as I slipped into sleep.

The following morning, I was woken to the sound of Nym and Thatcher yelling at each other. Reagan and Lucas must have had an early morning because it was Husker's voice I heard trying to scold them for being loud.

I dressed in my usual 'home' attire, which were simple black dress pants and a light colored top. Today was a thin sweater since we were nearing my favorite season: Fall

My claws tapped on the wood as I walked down the staircase. The rambunctious pair were arguing over the family wristlet. Each member of this family wore a leather wristlet or bracelet that had our crest: a combination of Alastor's crest and my own (the symbol left in the ground when I teleport). Reagan wore a bracelet like I did but the younger pair wanted leather wristlets like Husker. They looked up to the furry uncle. Sometimes too much if someone asked me.

The siblings were sitting at the kitchen counter with Husker on the other side, claws digging into the surface with frustration. Breakfast lay untouched in front of them.

Nym had really short, hazel brown hair and a few freckels on her nose. Her brother, Thatcher, had even shorter hair, typical of boys his age, but his face was coated in the same freckles. His face was usually set in a glare from dealing with his sister while Nym had a wide grin.

"They're the exact same," Husker growled, snatching both items away, mixing them behind his back, then tossing them back into the angry little hands.

"Mine's smaller!" Nym slammed her hands on the counter, half standing on her chair, "he's got buffy wrists."

"Hah! You admit I'm stronger than you!" Thatcher sneered in her face. She shoved his face away, nearly causing him to fall back off his chair.

"Big wrists don't mean you're stronger. Just a bunch of fat."

"Be nice," I spoke softly as I stepped into the kitchen. They went very quiet and settled into their seats.

"I just want my band," Nym looked pointedly to Thatcher.

"And you should have it. However," I took both wristlets from them and held them up to my eye level, "since we cannot decipher the difference, whichever I give will be yours and you need to do something to it that distinguishes it from the other. Understood?"

The two of them nodded silently. It had taken the first full year of parenting them to understand they listened best when spoken to like an adult. Sometimes I could get away with a more adolescent sentence if I put in a few elegant, advanced words for them.

I covered the bracelets in shadows and fizzled them into each of their palms. Nym immediately began to burn her initials into the leather as carefully as she could. The two of them were Slight Humans with a gift of Fire. Their magic was one of the reasons they had been given to me.

"Good morning," Husker sighed, pouring alcohol into his cup.

"Guess you didn't sleep well." We touched foreheads in our usual greeting before I made a plate for myself. Every other day he would come up to eat breakfast with us. It was the only time we had to spend with each other.

"Angel had a bad nightmare last night," was all he gave me.

Nym and Thatcher rattled off about school yesterday since I was gone for the evening. I pretended to listen but my mind was somewhere else. My peripherals could see the calendar hanging off the cabinet behind them. A weight settled in my chest.

Husker was the one to notice the time. He had to be on guard duty and the littles had to be at school. I ushered the two of them out, gently attempting to step on the back of their feet to elicit laughter and urgency. They ran out the door and practically flew down the short hill. I watched them enter the haven and follow the street to the schoolhouse.

"You should come to the dance tomorrow evening," Husker said as he closed the door behind him. Once a month, Charlie hosted a formal dance for the town. It helped people meet each other and gave us a nice event to attend. The first half was for the adults before the later hours were given to the teenagers and their crazy music.

"I don't think so," I said, "I'm hunting for Blackwater still."

"It could do you some good to let loose and dance. I know you love it."

"I do but..." I looked down at my back foot claws. "I still have to do my ritual too."

"It's been seven years now. Maybe you don't need to anymore."

"It's past seven years," I glanced sideways at him, "almost eight by tomorrow. I should be doing my ritual now more than ever."

"You really don't think he's coming back?" Husker asked gently. He had been incredibly understanding and empathetic towards my situation. He was still under Alastor's service and was never treated nearly as kindly as me, but he still offered comfort for my bruised heart.

"You said last time was seven years. It's almost eight. He may not return for another sixty years for all I know. Demons live for centuries."

"I still think you should dance to at least one song. Either before or after your ritual. Think about it." He placed a kind hand on my shoulder before flapping off the porch. I stared after him, watching his figure shrink into a black dot in the sky. I reached inside the front door and opened the drawer of the small decoration table. I withdrew my phone and sent a text message to Vox asking to meet with him.

I sat on the porch chair and closed my eyes. I reached out with my magic and felt the haven. I had read all of Alastor's books in the library and his office since the time of his disappearance. From my readings and sessions with Lucifer, my magic had grown in ways I couldn't imagine.

The souls danced around each other or cluttered together in homes, stores, schoolrooms, and more. I could sense a couple fishermen heading out to sea for the day. The children burned the brightest and a several people found their soulmate here, the thread connecting the pair clearly visible to my eyes. Althea was the only other person in the haven that could see soulmate connections.

My thread came only a few inches off my chest before it faded into nothing.

I stayed in this limbo. I wasn't truly present in my body but not entirely gone into the magic field. It was a comfortable place, a quiet place, that I could lose myself for hours in. There were few things that gave me rest and this was one of them.

The sun had reached its highest point when I finally withdrew back to my physical body. I opened my eyes and saw movement in the corner of my vision. I turned to see Alastor standing with his cane in hand and the other arm tucked neatly behind his back. It wasn't actually him, though. The hurt came back as hard as it had when he first disappeared. 

I drew a deep breath in and let it out, annoyed at how shaky it was when I did. I stood from the porch chair and walked up--walked through--him to the unfinished part of the porch. His figure fizzled into nothing, leaving me feeling cold and alone. I picked up a floorboard and started nailing it into place. 

I had gotten three floorboards down before the tears made it impossible to see the nails. I dropped the hammer and sat back on my heels, shoulders haunched and claws puncturing the new wood. I peeled one off and covered my wet face as I attempted to get control over my erratic breathing.

Where are you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Act Three babyyyyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open #hazbin husk

[vladajwrites]

Razor’s Edge

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Summary; Reader moves to Woodsboro for her senior year of high school. This story take place in the setting of the Scream 4 movie. This story is dedicated to all of the girls living through the current Rory Culkin revival. I love and see you. <3

Also available to be read on AO3 here

It's imperative for me to mention MAJOR trigger warnings for this story; blood, violence, sexual content, alcohol usage, and mentions of abusive situations and suicide. I will add and edit tw's as needed.

WC; 5,043

Notes;

Part 3 should be available soon. Thank you for any and all support! It truly means the world to me. Check post comments after reading chapter for additional statements.

As you had anticipated, Irina was truly overjoyed to learn how your first day of school had gone. She asked so many questions; the conversation went well into the night after she had returned home from work. 

“Could you see yourself becoming friends with any of the other students?” Irina asked from the kitchen table as you cleared remnants of dinner from the counter. 

You set a plate down in the sink and contemplated her question. Thinking back on the people you met over the course of the day, a few names came to mind. Kirby seemed kind. You had exchanged numbers after film club had ended. Her other friend, Jill, seemed a fine enough person as well, though a bit more reserved. 

You thought back to any of the other conversations you had throughout the day. Robbie’s awkward invitation played over, albeit a brave gesture, it didn’t seem like likely grounds for a friendship. Your thoughts then shifted to Robbie’s counterpart. 

Charlie seemed to keep much more to himself. It felt special to have someone, practically a stranger, come to your defense in any sort of situation. Charlie could be a friend, possibly. A half smile slipped up your lips. What did you know, though? Maybe it wasn’t really a possibility at all.

“I don’t know, maybe. I think it’s too soon to tell.” You spoke over your shoulder, holding your hand under the kitchen faucet, waiting for the water to warm. 

“Hmm,” Irina began, you peered over at her. Her bottom lip caught between her teeth, concealing a knowing smile. “Well, I have hope for you. Don’t count anybody out just yet.” 

You nodded, loading glasses and silverware into the dishwasher. 

If it were meant to happen, you figured it would. The only real matter of importance to you at the moment was pushing through your classes, giving yourself an opportunity to move you forward in life. It wouldn’t be long until college applications and standardized testing would be consume most of your free time and thoughts. 

The next few weeks passed by as most did when beginning a new school year. The teachers, thankfully, kept most assignments and quizzes simple to build back the tolerance towards regular class work that had been lost over the summer break. 

As you had also expected, the introductions and sudden interest other students had towards you started to fizzle out as they fell back into their usual routines. Although Kirby had become a welcomed energy in your space. She went out of her way to speak to you in classes you shared. She had even recently began to invite you to join her and her small circle to leave campus during your lunch period. It felt nice to be included, even if you had yet to be around them outside of school hours. 

Charlie had continued to walk with you to film club most days. The two of you shared very little actual conversations. Most moments were filled with a comfortable silence. 

You really began to pick up on things in the club. You’d write yourself small lists of the movies mentioned during that hour and return home to watch as many as possible while you worked on your homework. It was nice to have things to fill your time, distractions to push any memories away from before your return to Woodsboro.

The air had started to chill and change as September crept its way to the present day. It was a cloudy Friday, nearly two full weeks had passed since that first day of school. You were walking your usual route towards room 120A, Charlie in step beside you. Just before you were able to make it through the classroom doors, you heard your name called from the opposite end of the hallway.

You looked up to find Scotty Anderson gawking his way towards you. ‘Shit,’ you rolled your eyes. You had done a pretty good job of avoiding him and his group since the sports equipment bag debacle. You glanced over at Charlie. His frame was unusually rigid, no discernable emotion in his expression. 

You sucked in your cheeks, debating on just turning into the classroom. It was better to just get this over with than put it off; you decided. 

You took a few steps forwards, meeting Scotty in the middle of the hallway. You held both hands in front of you, tapping your foot as you thought of what he could have to say to you.

“Hey, I know we haven’t had the opportunity to speak.” Scotty began, moving the same bag of equipment up onto his shoulder. “I just wanted to apologize for running into you the other day. Definitely not cool.” It was clear in his tone he didn’t actually mean a word of what he had just said. 

You nodded, biting the tip of your tongue. You never expected an apology, and after as much time had passed, you really didn’t care to have one. You were more confused about why he had apologized now, after days had passed. 

“It’s fine man, don’t worry about it.” You replied, turning on your heel to head back towards the classroom. Scotty’s hand gripped its way around your upper arm, spinning you back towards him. You were visibly taken aback by the sudden motion and intrusion into your personal space. 

“Look, let me make it up to you. Give me your number, I’ll take you out sometime, show you around Woodsboro.” He practically demanded, a sly cocky grin plastered across his face. He was just plainly handsome, the athletic and popular type you imagined some girls would go for. You might’ve given him a chance too, if things hadn’t started out the way they had. He was still somehow able to make his chances even worse though as he continued to talk. You weren’t the least bit interested. 

You glanced over your shoulder. Charlie was still standing in the doorway, his eyes flashed quickly between you and Scotty. A disgusted frown clung to his lips as he watched the situation unfolding before him. 

You looked back up at Scotty, shaking your arm out of his grasp. “No thank you,” you replied, barely above a whisper. 

His eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d never heard those words before. “What?” His mouth hung agape. 

“I said no. I’m just not interested.” You replied, this time more sternly. 

Scotty scoffed, surely attempting to conceal his bruised ego. He stomped his way down the hallway like a toddler. “Ugly bitch.” You could hear him mutter as he grew further away. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your shocked laughter. You turned back around. Charlie was gone from his spot. A stupid smile plastered on your face as you entered film club. If Anderson truly felt that way, he would’ve never made an attempt to come onto you in the first place. You found your seat next to Kirby and looked up at Charlie, believing he’d be laughing with you too over the situation, only he didn’t seem amused at all. He wouldn’t even look up to meet your eyes. 

His cold shouldered treatment continued into the next week as well. You figured things would just be as they were before as the last bell rang that following Monday. Before you had the chance to grab your things, Charlie had brushed past you, disappearing into the crowd of students in the hall. 

You weren’t sure why it hurt your feelings so much. He didn’t owe you anything. You were perfectly capable of making it to the club without him. But still, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as the next few days unfolded in the same way. He’d barely look at you, let alone speak to you. You were trying to wrap your head around why he was acting this way. You had done anything wrong to your knowledge, but then again, maybe you had. You couldn’t bring yourself to push the matter, though. You had no idea what to say to him. 

That following Friday, during your second to last period, your biology teacher announced the outline for the first heavily graded project of the semester. It was a group project. He’d assign the groups and specific topics each trio would be required to present. The classroom mumbled and huffed at the announcement. 

You listened carefully as the teacher made his way down the list of students he held in his hands. You glanced around the room as the group of prospective partners grew smaller. You hoped you would be paired with people you at least vaguely knew.

The teacher then called your name. Your head snapped to meet his finger dragging across the list he held in his right hand. You waited intently for the next names to be called. 

“You’ll be in a group with Mercer and Walker. Your topic is genetic pedigree.” You sunk down in your seat. Eyes flashing towards Robbie, who gave you a smile and thumbs up. You couldn’t bring yourself to look towards Charlie, who sat beside him. 

You dropped your head into your hands, letting your hair cover your face. You knew you’d have to muster the courage to say something to Charlie. The project was important, and you didn’t want any made-up qualms to affect the way you all worked together. 

As class concluded, Robbie stopped you in the Hallway. You watched Charlie walk past without looking behind him or waiting for his friend. You followed his frame carefully until losing him as he turned down the hall. 

“Hey, if it’s alright, could I grab your number?” Robbie asked. You’d nearly forgotten he was standing there. “For the project, of course. We’ll have to work on it outside of school, and just if you- or I, have any questions..” You watched as his cheeks turned a soft shade of red. 

You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile and nodded. “Of course Robbie, yeah, that makes sense.” 

“Awesome!” He sighed in relief, handing you his cellphone to type in your contact information. “See you in film club?”

You nodded again, watching Robbie turn on his heels and vanish into the crowd of students headed towards their next class. 

Your last class of the day felt like torment, the minutes passed by so incredibly slowly. It seemed as though the second hand on the clock was frozen in place as you waited and listened for each tick it made. 

You could feel eyes stuck to you as you sat, unfurling the hem of your sweater. You glanced behind you. Charlie met your eyes, he was mimicking your own movements, heel tapping on the floor below him. 

He looked absolutely miserable, pained even. He looked down at the ground as your eyes lingered for just a moment longer. You suddenly felt incredibly guilty. Maybe there was something going on with him completely outside of school, outside of you, and you had been so entirely selfish to believe his change in demeanor was a direct result of anything you had done. 

You sat at your desk now braiding, unbraiding, and rebraiding the same three strands of hair near the front of your face. How could you have not attempted to reach out to him sooner? You felt like an absolutely sorry excuse for an acquaintance, let alone a friend. 

You had your belongings packed and together before the final bell rang, you’d make sure to catch him this time. As soon as the clock rang to dismiss the class, you were up from your seat, headed to the doorway to catch him in the hall. 

He was quick to step past you, head fixated on the crowd in front of him. You worked faster, grabbing the strap of his backpack and pulling him through the doorway of an empty adjoining classroom. 

He looked shocked as he spun to face you, his mouth held agape, before snapping his lips into a tight line.

“What is wrong with you?” You asked, surprised even by your own hasty actions. As soon as the words left your lips, you regretted them. What’s wrong with you? Really? There wasn’t a better way for you to ask what was going on? You silently scolded yourself. 

“What?” He asked, taking an immediately defensive tone, understandably so. 

“I mean, what is going on with you? Is everything okay? You’ve gone through quite the effort to act like I don’t exist this past week.” You replied, amending your original question. 

He looked you over, scoffing. You brought your hands up over your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious. 

“Look, if it’s attention you’re looking to get from somebody, don’t bother me about it.” He spoke just above a whisper, as if he could barely get his own words out. 

His words made your eyes prick up. You felt your body heat flush as your jaw grew increasingly tense. What was wrong with him? His glare faltered for a moment, his hands dropping to his sides.

“I just mean…” He paused before continuing, “you’ve got Anderson. I don’t understand why you’d want me around.” 

Your eyes widened in shock, realizing he hadn’t stuck around till the end of the conversation you had with Scotty the week prior. This was really the reason he had become so cold towards you? It was ridiculous. He was so-

You couldn’t hold back the astonished laughter, the absolute nerve. Charlie’s expression morphed into confusion. He seemed almost hurt to have you laughing in his face. Good. 

“You really thought I wanted anything to do with that asshole? I didn’t even give him my number.” You exclaimed, throwing your hands back towards your thighs. 

Charlie’s face bore the full front of sudden guilt. Your hurt turned to anger. He could’ve asked, but he just assumed. Even then, what issue could he possibly take with you speaking to or seeing another man? 

You took a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. Charlie took a deep breath, eyes glancing between you and the pointer finger you now dug into his chest. 

“I thought you were a friend, you fucking prick.” You whispered just beside his ear. You could feel his heartbeat wildly pound against your finger, could nearly hear it from the proximity you shared. Or maybe that was your own heart you were hearing. You couldn’t have been sure. 

Before giving him a chance to respond, you stormed your way out of the room. Making a beeline to your car. 

Fuck. Fuck that stupid fucking film club. And fuck Charlie Walker. 

You sped home, slamming the front door behind you. You rushed up the stairs, hearing your aunt call your name from the living room. You stopped in your tracks, shouting down to her, “I’m fine, I promise. Just need a moment alone.” 

You waited for a second to hear her response. You were surprised she was home from work so early. After a few moments, Irina responded, “Okay.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced, but knew better than to pry. 

You shut your bedroom door, falling flat onto your bed. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered. You didn’t need him around. 

An hour passed by, and then another before you heard your phone ringer buzz twice.

You scrambled for your phone, which was still in your bag on the ground beside your bed where you had thrown it earlier. 

Two text messages from an unknown number flashed on the screen.

“Hey, didn’t see you in film club. Everything good?” Your heart skipped in your chest. Could it be-? Your question was answered by the second message. “Robbie btw.”

You sighed, rolling onto your back, holding the phone above your face. You thought for a moment before responding. “Wasn’t feeling well, all good, though.” You added Robbie’s name to his contact info before setting the phone down beside you. 

Another minute passed before your phone buzzed again. “Cool. Would you be down to meet up later to start on our project?” Robbie’s message read.

You thought about it for a moment. The idea didn’t seem particularly great, but it would be nice to just get it all over with. You responded with a simple, “Sure.”

Almost instantly, a new message was sent. You opened it to find another phone number beside Robbies. In a new group chat Robbie asked, “Where and what time do you guys wanna meet up?” The other number had to be Charlies. You rolled your eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Your fingers hovered above the keyboard as you thought up a response. You knew Irina would be more than happy to host, and it’d save you a trip from going elsewhere in town.

“My place, 7pm?” You replied. 

“We’ll be there.” Robbie responded. 

You sent your address to the pair and locked your phone, shoving it in your back pocket. 

You figured it was time to face your aunt, let her know people would be coming by the house later. You called out to her, hearing her reply from her bedroom. You stopped in her doorway, watching her pack clothing into a small black suitcase.

“Where are you going?” You asked, walking up beside her. 

She looked up from her work. “I have a few meetings in Sacramento this weekend. I fly out tomorrow morning. I should be back by Monday though.” You nodded your head in response. She was always so busy, always had places to be. 

“I’m sorry for slamming the door earlier.” You said quietly, picking up a t-shirt on the bed and folding it over for her. 

Your aunt looked over at you, waiting to see if you’d continue. 

“I’m okay. I just-” You paused, trying to find the right words. The entire thing wasn’t really worth getting into or being upset about, as you thought about it.

Irina’s eyebrow raised. “Boy troubles?” She said half-jokingly.

You smiled then, handing her the folded shirt. Yes, to put it plainly, just boy troubles.

“You know what I think about men,” Irina began.

“Better off without them.” You answered in unison, laughing with one another. 

You stopped in the doorway, hand wrapped around the frame as you left Irina’s bedroom. “Oh, by the way, I’m having a few people over in a couple of hours to work on a project for school. If that’s okay, of course.” 

Irina peered over her shoulder, a wide grin on her face. “Of course. Let me know if you kids need anything.” 

It was hard to keep your nerves in check as the next few hours passed by. It would be fine, you reminded yourself over and over again. It wasn’t going to just be you and Charlie. Robbie would serve as a much needed buffer. 

You heard your phone buzz on your nightstand; you picked it up quickly, reading the message aloud. “Pulling up now.” You quickly made your way down the stairs, kicking a pair of your shoes further down the entryway.

You swung the front door open without recalling whether you had heard a knock yet. You were met by Robbie and Charlie on the front porch. Charlie’s head was towards the ground, his hands in his pocket. Robbie looked around himself, mouth agape. 

“You were totally right dude,” Robbie said, elbowing his friend in the side. “This was her house.” 

“What?” You asked from the doorway, not sure you had heard him right. Robbie looked flustered, as if he were surprised to see you standing there. 

“Oh. I meant Charlie recognized you on the first day.” Robbie tried to clear the confusion by simply adding to it. You looked between the pair. Robbie immediately cowered in response to Charlie’s shocked glare. 

You waited for Robbie to continue. You couldn’t possibly understand what he meant by that. To your knowledge, you had never met either of them before that first day of school. 

“Charlie’d make me ride circles down your street for hours. He said you had to be the same girl we saw when we were kids. We totally thought you just died one day after you stopped appearing in the window every summer.” Robbie said laughing, pointing at the sun bay window. 

You were frozen in place; the air seemed to be sucked out around you as you thought hard back on those memories. Certain things suddenly started to click and piece themselves together in your mind. You glanced over at Charlie. He was looking at you almost pathetically, knowing there was nothing he could have done to stop Robbie from spilling any of that information. 

Robbie began a string of ‘I’s and Um’s’ as he noticed your expression. You willed yourself to pull it together for a moment; lesson the deafening, horrible ringing in your ears.

“Oh, I think I remember you two, actually.” You stated. You had always had a distinct memory that fell in line with Robbie’s sentiment. You weren’t sure you’d have ever been able to place them both in that memory without Robbie’s over-share. You’d let yourself process this information at a later time. You watched as both boys relaxed a bit more into themselves, awkward glances still passed between the three of you.

“Would you guys like to come in?” You stepped aside, motioning towards the entryway. 

“Please.” Robbie replied and stepped past you. 

Charlie nodded, following behind him. You caught and held his gaze for a moment as he slipped in so close beside you. 

“We can just hang out in the living room, if that’s cool.” You said, motioning towards the living room couch. The two men followed suit. You took a seat on the sofa, Robbie sat on the opposite end, while Charlie took a seat on the floor by the coffee table in front of you. 

It was quiet for a moment as everyone pulled out their laptops, notebooks, and pens. You weren’t sure who would be the first one to break the silence. To be completely honest, you didn’t mind it. You were terrified that Robbie would somehow dig himself another hole, and you had absolutely nothing to say to Charlie. You hoped you’d be able to just get the majority of the project finished tonight so that the remaining meetings would be minimal. 

Just then, you heard your aunt’s light footsteps coming from down the stairs. You sighed a heavy sigh of relief as she entered the living room. She wore a bright smile on her face as the boys rose to their feet to greet her. 

“Robbie Mercer.” He held out a hand to her. “Good to meet you, Robbie.” She replied in her usual sing-song voice.

Her smile faltered for a moment as she turned to shake Charlie’s hand as well. “Charlie Walker, thanks for allowing us over.” Charlie said, giving her a courteous smile. 

You looked between your aunt and Charlie, watching the corner of her lips twitch into a small frown before she replied. She looked almost off kilter. You took careful notice of your aunt’s unusual etiquette. “Anytime, Charlie.” She replied, placing her left hand over their conjoined right hands. 

The gesture didn’t seem to phase Charlie much. 

“If there’s anything I can get for you all, please don’t be afraid to ask.” Irina spoke before heading back up the stairs. The three of you responded in a short chorus of ‘thank you’s.’ 

The next few hours went by as well as you could have hoped for them to go. Once you were all busy at work, the awkwardness slowly dispelled itself. It was nearly midnight, and you were all beginning to experience the early stages of screen fatigue from your work. You all mutually decided to try to wrap everything up tomorrow. 

As you led the two out, Robbie spoke over his shoulder. “I honestly think it’ll only take another day to finish this. Maybe one more after that for revision.” You and Charlie both nodded. “But, honestly, if I have looked at another fucking punnet square after this project, I think I’ll kill myself.” 

You laughed as you turned the door handle. 

The boys filed onto the porch. Robbie was quick to make his way towards his car that was parked halfway in the driveway and halfway onto the street. He stopped after realizing Charlie was still standing on the porch. You glanced between the pair.

“You coming man?” Robbie asked, fishing for his keys in his back pocket.

You watched Charlie, waiting for his response. 

“Nah, I feel like walking.” He responded. 

Robbie cocked an eyebrow, looking at his friend. He seemed slightly surprised, but didn’t bother trying to convince him to come along. 

“Alright, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Robbie said, as he opened his driver’s side door. You watched him pull all the way down the street before turning around to face the closed front door. Your hand had just started turning the handle when you heard Charlie speak up.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” You turned your face, dropping the handle. 

You really had almost no interest in anything he had to say at all, at this point. 

“Make it quick.” You replied, stepping in front of him. Your words clearly hurt him, and he did little to hide his grimace. 

“Look, I’m sorry.” He started softly, eyes flickering between your own. You sucked in your bottom lip, leaning on your hip as you crossed your arms in front of you. You scanned his face in search of sincerity. 

“It’s fine, Charlie. It’s done with.” You replied.

He took a step closer to you. You fought the urge to take another back, to keep just a bit more distance from him. You held your ground.

“No, I’m being serious. It was horrible for me to just assume…” his voice trailed off for a moment. He glanced behind you at the window bay to your left. He met your eyes again. “And the whole attention thing. I never really felt that way. Regretted it as soon as I said it.” His hand flexed at his side as he shook his head. 

“Okay.” You replied breathlessly. It was all you wanted him to say. You both stood there for a moment. The sound of crickets filled the air. There always seemed to be something filling in the lapse of conversation you had with Charlie, in a way you had never noticed with anyone else before. 

You were the one to speak up. “I can give you a ride home if you’d like.” 

A small smile crept up his lips as he followed your gesture towards your car parked in the driveway. 

“It’s alright. Thank you for the offer. I just live on the next street over.” He motioned towards the road. 

“It’s really not any trouble…” you began. You weren’t sure why you felt such a need to insist. 

He reached up then. His thumb ran across the small braid in your hair that had been forgotten about and left to slowly unravel since last period. You left out a breath of surprise at the sudden contact. He was so incredibly close. That pounding in your heart returned rapidly as your hands dropped to your side. 

Your eyes darted wildly across the features of his face. His eyes were stuck on those strands of hair between his fingers. 

There were no more crickets, no rushing blood, just silence. 

He had pulled away before you could process the proximity. He was headed down the front porch steps in a matter of seconds. “Goodnight, I’ll see you here tomorrow.” He called, turning over his shoulder to say goodbye. 

You refused to let yourself watch him make his way down the street. Your feet carried you mindlessly up the stairs until collapsing you onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, reaching for the disheveled braid. Your fingers traced themselves along the same spot he had. You had just about pulled the braid apart when your aunt called your name from the doorway. 

You shot up in bed to face her, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Didn’t mean to surprise you,” Irina began. Her face was splotchy and red in ways that it never was. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye, in case I didn’t get the chance to before I left in the morning.”

You nodded in response. You rose onto your feet, walking over to give her a hug. You pulled away as she began to speak up again. “He looks so much like him.” Irina seemed to say more to herself than you. 

“Hmm?” You urged her to explain what she meant. 

“The Walker boy. He looks so much like his father had at that age.” She began trailing off, looking at the wall behind you before meeting your eyes again.

“You knew his father?” You asked. This shouldn’t have been surprising information to you, Irina seemed to know everybody who had spent any amount of considerable time in Woodsboro. 

Irina nodded. 

“Just be kind to him, if you can be.” She said so softly, you barely caught her last words. This took you aback. You were sure your confusion was apparent on your face. “It’s only been a few years since he passed. I’m sure it’s been difficult for Charlie.”

Her amending statement made your heart sink low into your chest. A resounding buzz quickly filled the space between your ears. 

“I am.” You replied. You thought you were, at least. 

Irina nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response. She turned to make her way to her own bedroom at the end of the hall. Just before she disappeared through the door, you called out to her.

“How? How did he die?” You asked. You immediately felt bad for even asking. It wasn’t necessarily anything you needed to know. 

You could tell, even from where you stood, that your aunt’s eyes began to well with tears. “Suicide,” she whispered without looking back at you. It only took a single moment before Irina stepped into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood stuck in the hallway. It was a horribly long night. 

#fanfiction #fanfic #charlie walker #charlie walker fanfic #charlie walker fanfiction #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x y/n #scream 4 fanfic #charlie walker smut #rory culkin fanfic #rory culkin fanfiction

[sorencd]

hellooo can you write a fic about todd comforting reader after a fight w her parents please? thank youu

ARMS TONITE— i fellll in your arms toniighhtt

todd x reader drabble , idk how long this is , angst/fluff , im like so sorry this took so long tho lol

todd was always the person you’d run to when you know you couldn’t keep the tears in anymore. sometimes, when you’re having a bad day, a hug from him was all it took for you to have a smile on your face again. a gentle squeeze of reassurance from him was all you needed to gain a bit more confidence in whatever problem you were facing. his glance, always full of love, was all you needed to get throughout the day.

and today, you needed all of it at once. your hands, resting behind his back, squeezed and gripped his sweater as you poured your heart out. tears that had sorrow and disdain laced in them fell on the soft fabric beneath your chin, painting it with wet patches, but it was never a problem for todd.

“i just don’t understand, n-no matter how many times i tell them i’m not comfortable yet when it comes to talking to them about how i feel, they always take it as a sign to be offended?” you furrowed your eyebrows, furiously wiping your tears away in a moment of anger.

“they’re just so… hard sometimes, but i love them so much, i love them too much. i love them to the point that they could scream at me like i’m some annoying bothersome street dog and i’d still look at them with love.”

now you were full on crying, snot and everything. and todd just held you, in his arms, in his warm comfort, just being there for you. he understood where you were coming from. and he wanted you to know he’s there, listening. he rubbed circles on your back and gave you time to speak your mind, todd knew how much unsaid feelings and emotions you were bottling up.

“and it always hurts. that every time i have to conform to what they said and agree that they’re right. and they have this… talent. the ability to move on like it was nothing to them so i’m forced to just do the same. it’s tiring, you know?”

your voice was so small, barely even above a whisper. you were amazed at yourself for being able to form a coherent sentence with your choked sobs. and it hurt todd. it pained him— seeing you cry, seeing your face so full of dejection, cheeks all red and tear-stained, eyes puffy from relentlessly crying and a vice-grip on his back.

“yeah… parents are sometimes too much. i-i sometimes too just wanna run away from it all, not have some dumb responsibility looming behind me or-or when i’m mad at them too for getting shouted at because of the littlest things. i understand where you’re coming from, (y/n).”

you parted from where your face hid on the crook of his neck begrudgingly and rubbed the back of your hand against your eye, trying to wipe off the tears as todd pushed away and stray hair that was blocking your vision.

“thanks for listening, todd.”

“of course, i’ll always listen, i’ll sound like a broken record at this point, but i’m so glad that i’m one of the trusted people you tell all of this to-“

“the only person i tell all of this to.”

he softly laughed, “the only person you tell all of this to, and i just want you to know, i’ll always be here for you, okay? even if i’m… fighting off charlie or on the other side of the world, i’ll always find a way to be here, to wipe your face dry and make you smile.”

“you’re really so sappy sometimes. will you ever not be?”

“i love you too, (y/n).”

#todd anderson x reader #todd anderson #dead poets society x reader

[a-french-coconut]

Drew Tanaka (Part 2)

On August 18th, the Empire State Building turns blue and the Titan Army accepts its defeat. Victories cries can be heard throughout all Manhattan because they won and Drew savors the sight of Lacy, Mitchell, Heloise and Thomas hugging each other, basking in the fact that they all survived. They celebrate with the other demigods they encounter as all the survivors, some carrying their dead, head back to the Plaza Hotel, the hastily designed headquarters. When they arrive, the hall is full of injured demigods and packed in a corner lay the shrouds. The mix of golden, silver, grey and all the other would have been a beautiful sight if it wasn’t for the friends and siblings laying behind them. 

The world goes silent when Drew glimpses a pink shroud in the mass. She freezes, air stop circulating and her heart skips a few beats.

It’s a mistake. It’s a mistake. None of her siblings died, she made of sure of it. 

Lacy, Thomas, Heloise and Mitchell are all here with her and Silena is with Cla—

She is proven right when she hears whispers of the girl warrior dragging a drakon behind her. Her cries of rage and grief echo in city

the stubborn daughter of war loves Silena as much as she does.

There is only one reason for Clarisse’s grief

Drew runs to the shrouds and lift off the pink veil. A deafening scream tear her throat as Silena’s acid-burnt eyes meet hers. 

The room is spinning (they all survived). 

Her throat hurts, her head hurts, everything hurts. 

Someone is taking her away from her sister and telling to “shut the fuck up Tanaka, you’re going to make someone deaf.”. She looks up to find Clarisse holding her and looking at her with the most sympathy the daughter of war can muster for someone who isn’t Will Solace or Silena. How can she stand while Drew feels like she’ll throw up if she even tries ? 

“How ?” 

Silena never liked when Drew used charmspeak on someone for her own benefits (what does it matter now ? she’ll never reprimand her again). 

Drew has to refrain herself from cursing Clarisse when she finds out Silena is dead because of the stupid pride of the girl. Her sister led the Ares campers knowing full well she could not kill the drakon. 

Why, Why would her sister kill herself ? 

“She felt guilty for Beckendorf’s death.” 

Clarisse answers the question Drew had not realized she had verbalized, eyes still glazed in pink. Why the Hades would her sister feel responsible for—

The realization comes with a pang of pain right in her heart, as if someone just stabbed her (maybe someone did). 

“Charlie is— oh Drew I… it’s all my fault but he told me he—"

(Hey there was someone before Beckendorf remember ? The tall boy with a scar on his face ? The one Silena used to gush about until—, until… wait no what am I saying ? Silena only loved Charles) 

Her brain feels like Athena is going to come out from it. Memories of Silena and Luke Castellan laughing and whispering behind the cabins flash brightly and darkens just as fast. Why did she only remember now ? 

Her eyes wander to Silena and the answer is painfully clear : because the one who charmspoke her into forgetting is dead and so is her magic. 

There’s a traitor. 

someone told him they were coming.

There’s a traitor, there’s a fucking traitor who wants them all dead, they killed Beckendorf, they probably killed Lee and Castor and they will kill everyone else if Drew doesn’t find who it is. 

There’s a scorching inferno in her heart. She never suspected she could hate someone she doesn’t know with such passion. 

Silena is the sister Drew loves and adores. 

Silena is the traitor. 

The only thing she hears is her heart pounding. 

Everything is too much, too much thinking, too much feelings, too much people around, telling her intelligible nonsense about “a hero’s death… Silena did the right thing at the end…”.

Drew wants to scream at them to shut up because the last thing she wants is to think about Silena Beauregard. 

She has never been the kind to cry in front of people and she’s not going to begin now, certainly not for a murderer sister. She’ll deal with this later, alone in her cabin’s bathroom. She’ll just have to wait until her siblings are taken to dinner (by who darling?) and join them later (you’re the oldest now honey), babbling some excuse about fixing her makeup. 

I’m the oldest.

I’m the new head counsellor. 

Drew wonders how much shock she can take before crumbling. She reached her limits apparently because tears are threatening to spill. She gets up, pushes away Clarisse, Will who has come to see if she was alright, and her crying siblings. As soon as she gets out of the Hotel, she lets her tears fall. 

            The ride back to Camp is even worse than going to Manhattan. Everyone has a vacant seat next to them, everyone is tired from the three constant days of battle and tensions are high. She can see Kayla shooting daggers with her eyes at the Ares Cabin, not one meeting her glare, the daughter of Apollo holds a bow tightly clutched in her arms while Will snores loudly on her elbow. Travis and Connor are seated together, murmuring and sometimes glancing at her. She refuses to meet their eyes despite knowing that those two are very well experienced in discovering that your older sibling is a cold-hearted child killer. 

Thinking of Silena transforms her heart in a turmoil of emotions. When she came back in the hotel after her little breakdown Drew went straight to her sister’s body and lifted off the shroud entirely, revealing in a macabre beauty the ravages done on her sister. Her face has been the most altered by the acid but some has trickled down her arms and torso, creating a pattern on the skin. Drew found what she wanted on her sister’s left wrist. 

A single charm bracelet, a little silver gleaming scythe.  

The object burns through her jacket’s pocket. She is well aware that she should not have taken it but she could not, for a reason she cannot explain, bring herself to let it on Silena, fated to burn alongside her sister. 

As the oldest and closest sister to Silena, Drew should have been the one to deliver one final speech about her but she has given the honor to Clarisse instead. She doesn’t trust herself not to break down in front of everyone and besides, what does she have to say about Silena ?

She braided my hair ? Talked with me about Sasha ? Killed Sasha ? Conspired with Luke to invade Camp and then felt guilty when she blew up her boyfriend ?

She smiles bitterly and she knows she made the right choice. 

When she leads her siblings to the Aphrodite Cabin, Drew has no other choice then talk with them about Silena and how it will be Clarisse who will deliver the speech. As expected, Lacy breaks down in tears at the mere mention of their sister, Mitchell frowns but otherwise stays silent but Heloise and Thomas protest. 

“Why aren’t you doing it ?” 

Because I know you don’t share my opinion about Silena, none of camp does. 

She heard the whispers on the way back. 

“A hero” 

“Sacrificed herself, so noble” 

“I hope she goes to Elysium.” 

“She was just manipulated by Castellan, poor girl having her heart twisted like that” 

She hasn’t heard anyone calling her a traitor or even just a little resentment and Drew is smart enough to know that her opinion won’t be appreciated or valued. 

Instead of telling the truth to her brothers and sisters, Drew just shrugs and tell them she always felt Silena liked Clarisse more than her. 

A first wall builds around her heart, hiding her truth from the others. 

Despite her hatred towards the traitor, Drew still loves Silena and allows herself to cry in public when they burn her body. Clarisse painted her sister as a noble hero dying for the right cause, realizing she had been manipulated by Luke and giving her life to right her wrongs. In her eyes and therefore the campers’ eyes, Silena Beauregard is hero. 

In Drew’s eyes, Silena Beauregard is a girl with kind rotting blues eyes and a scythe charm on her arms, standing on Lee’s, Castor’s, Michael’s bodies (and so many more) looking at her with a bright bloodied smile, a brush in one hand and a dagger in the other. 

In Drew’s eyes, Silena Beauregard is a girl with blood on her hands, an apathetic smile and the most beautiful laugh she has ever heard. 

In Drew’s eyes, Silena Beauregard is the person she loved and hates the most. 

She doesn’t stay at the campfire for long, warns Heloise she’s going back to the cabin and that she’s in charge to bring the rest before curfew. The minute she hits her bed, Drew falls asleep. 

She’s in the strawberry’s fields. The fruit’s sweet scent fills the air, birds are chirping somewhere over her head, the sky is a bright blue, the sun heating her skin in a way that makes her sleepy. 

It’s peaceful. 

“Drew, sweetheart!” 

Of course. Even in her dreams Silena will haunt her. 

She turns around expecting to see a horrible corpse but her sister is alive, her blue eyes alight, her smile wide. She’s just her Silena, not the traitor she became. 

“Oh darling, they’re always been the same !” 

Her sister laughs, a terrible shrilling noise and advances towards her. 

Drew can’t move. 

“Sooo, how did it went with Sasha ? You guys had fun ?” 

Silena smiles as if she wasn’t the one who told Luke the camp’s weaknesses and killed the boy in doing so. Her now bloody hands leave red patches on the grass. 

“I never intended for him to die Drew.” 

 Tears fall from Silena’s face and Drew believes her. 

It’s too confusing to hate and grief someone at the same time. Especially with the passion Drew feels when she thinks of Silena. 

Leave me alone please. 

Silena stills right in front of her. Her pink shroud rests on her shoulders as a cape and her face slowly gets eaten away by the acid falling from the sky. She leans towards her and murmurs in her ear. 

“Never.”

Drew opens her eyes and stumbles as quickly and quietly as she can to the bathroom. Once she is in there, she slides down on the cold floor. She can hear the birds chirping in the real world this time, meaning it must be around five in the morning. 

The tears sliding down her face bring her a weird comfort. They’re the physical representation of her grief and it feels nice to grief Silena here when she doesn’t allow herself to do it outside. Already enough people mourn Silena. 

She knows her refusal to do the speech gave away a little of her true feelings towards her sister. She felt the judgmental glares from the others all day long and it had been infuriating. 

Why isn’t she allowed to deem Silena a traitor but all the others can make Luke the villain ? Her sacrificial ending is enough but his isn’t ? 

Why could they not let her feel the way she wants to ? How dare they assume they knew better emotions than the daughter of Love herself ? 

Drew lets out a small maniac giggle. She can’t wait to see their reactions when the next time someone dare paint Silena all in white, she’ll make it black. 

From the other side of the door, one of her siblings stirs up from their bed. They are going to want to use the bathroom and they will not see the mess she is. Drew gets up, sits in front of the mirror and while she applies her makeup carefully, she swears she will not let anyone get as close to heart as Silena did.

A second wall shelters her heart from the world.

part 3 posted !

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #drew tanaka #silena beauregard #aphrodite cabin #camp half blood

[shallowseeker]

Hey shall, what's your favourite/fun headcanons on why cas keeps getting resurrected at first I tought it was cause god/chuck liked him (like remember when ppl in the destiel fandom talked about how chuck ships them... good times) Then yea, that just didn't turn out to be true lol

Ohh, this is fun. I have some nice uplifting ones and one very evil one. I could probably come up with a ton of these, and I'm not feeling super eloquent this week, but have my mental popcorn instead:

CHUCK/NETWORK NEEDED CAS -> Popularity ...and it bit Chuck in the ass because he accidentally allowed Cas to grow more and more powerful, even when he (and the writers) worked so hard to weaken him and kill him off. I don't have the exact quotes, but I know there are numerous instances that imply the writers worked hard to weaken Cas.

When the writers have to work to make Cas weaker, and to make Dean and Sam stronger, it shows that Cas is the bigger threat, in terms of cosmic power.

Emotional consequences: Because Cas is important to Dean, Cas is often resurrected specifically because Dean loses hope without him. After his first death, Cas literarily functions as The Lost Husband/The Animal Bridegroom/The Artificial Husband for Dean specifically. Unlike characters like Sam's Amelia (season 8), Dean is obsessed with clinging to his loved ones, saying to CAS: "I did not leave you!" and to NAOMI through CAS: "Take it! But you're gonna have to kill me first. Come on, you coward. Do it. Do it!" In his insistance to look for Cas in Purgatory and keep not giving up on Cas, he sets himself apart from his many mirrors. He's a lot like the human consort in many of the “supernatural spouse” tales, brave and insistent in his trials, even when death separates him from his lover. NOTE: Amelia Novak also becomes a heroine in this regard when she decided to go looking for her "lost husband," Jimmy Novak but becoming ensnared and dies in season 10. ANYWAY, Dean and Cas tend to die when the other isn't around, and they both get so depressed it makes for pretty abysmal watching. Chuck doesn't like Cas, but he needs Cas because Dean needs Cas. Dean won't behave unless he has Cas with him. DEAN from 13x03: "This life, hunting, monsters, there’s no joy in it. There’s nothing but pain, horror and death." And DEAN from 13x05: BILLIE: Maybe you’re not that guy anymore, they guy who saves the world, the guy who always thinks he’ll win no matter what. You have changed. And you tell people it’s not a big deal. You tell people you’ll work through it but you know you won’t, you can’t and that scares the hell out of you. Or… am I wrong? DEAN: What do you want me to say? Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.

///

TETHERED TO A BROTHER or TWIN -> Functions as a thrown lifeline; i.e. one shield must fall before the other can

Not Cas-specific, but so long as your "tethered" twin is alive you cannot die. We see this with Amara and Chuck, that taking out Chuck requires killing Amara. This appears often in SPN, like with Charlie and There's No Place Like Home and the Wizard. It makes you wonder if Michael and Lucifer are similar. If you squint, Chuck does not seem able to kill Michael in 15x19 until after Lucifer has been killed. Makes you wonder if that was his intent on having them kill each other all along. That by having one kill the other, he could finally take out the son-rivals, as in the style of archetypical God-father who, because of their immortality, sees sons as threat to power. So what does that mean for Cas? Not sure, but he could be tethered to an angel that's still living. Maybe jack himself? (Or Dean's soul, for that matter.) It's assumed that Jack wakes up Cas, but there's juicy potential for it to have been Dean doing it all along, something Jack tapped into when Dean was screaming in grief during the Sam fight: DEAN: He manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t! [JACK looks distressed outside the room.] JACK: Castiel. [JACK’S eyes glow gold.]

///

MANY OF CHUCK'S REBELLIOUS CHILDREN ARE ACTUALLY CURSED TO BE RISING-AND-DYING GODS

As to quote Gabriel, "they are like cancer," he has to eradicate them, as they represent wars of old which are no longer needed. I know the rising-and-dying deity motif is something of a modern configuration, but since it appears in Remember the Titans, you have to wonder if this is a nature intrinsic to Cas himself. As angels are unable to sleep, they are unable to die. From 8x16: ZEUS: Tell me, has Prometheus experienced the child's death yet? [HAYLEY gives a nod.] How did he take it? Did he hurt? [HAYLEY nods again.] Good. ...I never get tired of watching you die. [ZEUS, holding SHANE up, says it right into his ear.] Your boy is going on the mountain. (Interestingly, the mountain forward-references to the episode Moriah.) From 14x08: COSMIC ENTITY: Stop interrupting! Start paying attention. I'm taking him. And where I'm taking you is worse than Hell… because at least Hell is something. Ohh. Ohh, God, they look scared. Does that hurt you? Good… because I want it to. In this interpretation, the Shadow is a higher God, and it has cursed Castiel for helping humanity the same way Prometheus helped humanity. It uses similar linguistics!

///

EVIL CAS/SHADOW MEANING -> God's most trusted double agent

Cas is resurrected by Chuck because he's secretly an intractable agent of Chuck, God's most trusted, analogues to how Ruby was "the best of those sons of bitches." This would take on a Christian overtone, that Chuck and Jack are the same person. Evil interpretation where Cas having been an agent of Fate all along. With this shadow meaning, "Cas helped" from 15x20 becomes especially ominous. But there's also "it's not the bait, it's the fish, I think they're beginning to anticipate me" from 15x06 right after Dean accuses him of being "the something that always goes wrong." There's something eerie in the idea that Chuck and Jack are in fact the same person, and Castiel is loyal to Him above all. "This lie won't hurt them," from Gimme Shelter etc etc. This would make Dean, like Sally in "Last Call" the real symbolic fish. If hunting is recklessness, fishing is patience, and Cas/God/Jack were being patient and fishing Dean's soul all along, baiting him with Love. Cas as a honey trap is a frightening thought, honestly, and although I don't prefer this shadow interpretation, it IS scary if someone wanted to explore it or have Dean simply fear this possibility, you know? Dean has an inherent fear of large powers, like Godstiel, and Jack's power, and he's right to fear it. At the end of the story, Cas and Jack are the only main characters still alive, so there's a real possibility that it is Cas who won the long game, not Chuck.

edit - there’s also cas has a soul theory, that he cannot sleep in the empty the sand way jack becomes aware of heaven in byzantium

#asks #cas and mortality #cas stuff #immortality

[around1302]

I. BIRTHDAY BLUES

SPARE PARTS: a series (1/20)

AVIVA STADIUM, DUBLIN

(W) strong language, alcohol & drug use

CHARLIE’S POV

“You know what your fuckin’ issue is?”

“Oh yeah? Tell me now, Charlie, right before we play to 50,000 people.”

“51,700, actually.”

“Bite me, princess.”

Harry, as always, was late. Twenty fucking minutes late. I thought, naively, that maybe he would surprise me. That this time, on the first show of our world stadium tour, he would actually rock up at the agreed-upon time. But no, twenty minutes after we were meant to be on stage, he rolled in as cool and collected as ever while I'd been pacing anxiously.

I had jumped up from my place by the covered speaker, promptly whacked him on his ridiculously polka-dotted shoulder, and began the earache for the rest of them (who all, by habit at this point, groaned and covered said ears).

“You guys ready?” A crew member interrupts us seconds from an actual fistfight and begins lifting the crimson curtain, one we’d all have about ten seconds to mentally prepare behind before a screen would be lifted and we’d be on display to (I am correct) 51,700 awaiting fans.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Niall answers, adjusting his guitar strap, “you guys think you can keep it in your pants for the next ninety minutes?”

Overlapping grumbles of disgust from Harry and I echo the small backstage as Louis thrusts his palm in the middle of us all. I roll my eyes but can’t help the small tug of my lips as the ritual begins. Liam follows, sticking his trusty drum sticks in his pocket to slap his palm atop Louis’. Niall joins, Harry’s ring-clad hand eventually makes its appearance, and I reluctantly top the pile.

“Spare Parts on three, yeah?” Louis asks, as if that wasn’t obvious by now.

“On three,” Liam affirms regardless.

“One,”

“Two,”

“Spare Parts!”

“Okay, you’re up,” Clipboard-Man lifts the heavy red curtain, making the screams suddenly louder, realer, scarier, “break a leg.”

“We’ll try not to,” I smile, trying not to let the nerves wobble my bottom lip as I barge past Harry to get to the front, not caring to turn for his reaction.

I know that for the next ninety minutes it will be all fake smiles and even faker laughs with my singing partner, so as he takes up his position beside me, I decide to steal one last scowl and a hissed, “this isn’t over,” before the screen suddenly lifts and there they are.

51 and fucking 700.

“Ire-land!” Niall shouts into the mic attached to his face, throwing his hands in the air as we all shakily step out and try not to pass out in front of the overwhelming crowd. We all knew going in that this was really Niall’s gig, and so he was more than happy to take the reigns for our first show.

You can barely see a person for the bright lights beaming back at the five of us, but by the edge of the stage you can just about see signs and fuck can you hear them. The cheers for us is something I can never get used to, no matter how long we’ve been doing it for. I imagine myself being old and gray and wrinkled and still surprised if I’m stopped in the street.

“It’s good to be home!” Niall’s met by the sounds of thousands of – apparently dying – fans, “Ireland, we have a special treat for you tonight.”

I stand with my arm leant against Louis, my usual safe haven, and laser my focus on the back of Harry’s head as he anxiously messes with his hair, just so I don’t have to watch the crowd.

“You good, Char?” Louis pulls down his mic and whispers, moving his bass out of my way. I send him an over-exaggerated (and unconvincing) nod, trying my hardest not to let the nerves crumble me into a dusty pile atop that stage.

Gigs? Fine. An arena tour? Done. But a stadium tour? A world stadium tour? I’m realising (in probably the worst place) just how new and terrifying this territory is.

“Today is a very special day for us,” Harry continues, turning around and glaring at me with wide, scolding eyes. I quickly take the hint, sucking in the last of my confidence to step forward to him, “because six years ago today, we were formed as a band.”

The crowd rips into cheers heard deafeningly even through my earpiece, and despite the plummeting feeling I have deep in my chest, I feel an aura of safety. Despite there being a lot, lot more of them than I’m used to – they’re here for us. They paid, they showed up, they’re screaming for us.

“We want to thank you all,” I boom, my voice leaving me firmer than I expected, “so much, from the bottom of all our hearts. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you guys.”

“We love you!” A fan yelps out amongst the screams.

“We love you more,” Harry quickly shoots back, ever the moment-stealer, “and to show you how much we love you,” he glances back at Niall, who begins to play a few opening cords of Teenage Dirtbag, “we’re going to play the very first song we ever sang together.”

Liam kicks in with the drums as I continue.

“Six years ago, we were nothing but strangers thrown together, and now we’re up here as a family,” I glance at Harry, a look that is met with a knowing – mocking – smirk. I try not to scowl, “thank you, Ireland. We love you. This is Teenage Dirtbag!”

Harry and I share an always oddly reassuring look as our earpieces give us the count-in and the opening notes of our first song begin.

Despite our off-stage hatred, on-stage we always seem to mesh. Maybe it’s because Harry Styles is so drastically different to Harry that he’s actually bearable, or maybe we’re just equally as terrified. Either way, as I begin to shakily sing her part, I don’t miss the way Harry watches me from the sidelines until I stand stronger in my voice and melt into Charlie Greene.

“I think last night was our best show yet.”

“You say that every show, Liam.”

“What? It’s true.”

“Will you guys shush,” scolding brogue suddenly emerges from the corner, “she’ll be here any minute.”

Cryptically, I kind of hope it all backfires. Amelia walks in too early, or she hates the balloons, or has the date wrong. As my hamstrings burn within their crouched position behind some seating, my eyes boring into the plushy velvet till I’m sure I hate the colour yellow, I wish that under some power of some God that Niall doesn’t win this one.

Call me petty, but I’m damn well allowed to be. It was me plaiting her hair and gossiping about our classmates and being her shoulder to cry on for the most part of our lives. I was supposed to be the one who bought all the pink glittery vodka out, and ensure the only music playing from the jukebox will be Red (TV) and, and… well, fuck.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. They’re perfect.

I hate this.

“Do you want to make it any less obvious you’re bitter about this whole thing?”

“Shut up, Louis,” I grumble, not bothering to meet his eye. I already know it’s going to be judgmental, “I’m the worst friend in the world, I’m allowed to be pissed.”

“Maybe, but suck it up for one night, yeah?”

I flag him in the dark, our eyes so adjusted at this point he sees clear as day and flases me a sarcastic grin right back. He’s right – I do need to suck it up, but with how busy I’ve been lately with the new album and tour preparations, I should have at least planned my best friend’s 22nd to make up for the lost time. She’s been excited for this day since we were twelve and replayed Taylor Swift dancing in heart glasses and a (questionable) fedora a trillion times.

Niall had organised everyone to be at Malibu’s for half seven before getting Zayn to shoot Amelia a text to meet at eight. According to her, this was going to be a semi-normal Friday night at our usual; she’d be hanging out with Zayn as the rest of us are ‘still in Ireland.’ Except, we’d all be jumping out of the darkness when the door chimes open. The last person to arrive did so about ten minutes ago, omitting, of course, one exception…

The usual exception.

where are u ??

Sent 19:35

seriously, where are u

Sent 19:40

dude.

Sent 19:46

this isn’t funny, this is lia’s day

Sent 19:50

HELLO??

Sent 19:55

i genuinely hope u get crushed in traffic

Sent 19:59

To be late to everything is one thing, but to be late to a surprise party for not only my best friend but a subsequent good friend of the whole band is taking the piss. Amelia’s due any minute, and–

A rectangle of light flows into the room, the door chimes – fuck, it’s showtime, and I’m riddled with frustation while I should be tingling with pre-emptive happiness for my friend. Anticipation straightens my spine as Niall flicks the light on by the door and we all jump out popping glittery confetti and yelling jovial surprises to…, not Amelia. Harry barely looks up from his phone as everyone murmurs collective confusion and groans of annoyance at the wasted string now adorning the bar floor.

“God, you’re a fucking idiot, H,” Niall grabs his arm, yanking him to the side as his eyes flicker around the room, seemingly taking this all in as if this is news. Niall turns to us, presumably to tell everyone to get back in place and forget the fact all the party poppers are ruined, but not a few moments later the actual birthday girl appears in the doorway. Everyone yells surprise again, this time a little weaker.

I wish I could see her face, but I’m too busy hoping the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ is true as I glare at Harry. In his (teeny tiny) defence, he looks genuinely confused, and we’re all running on two hours of sleep and a whole bunch of heat exhaustion. But, the several texts I sent and the fact this has been discussed in endless amounts in the past few weeks feed him little sympathy from me.

“Sorry, Lia,” Niall starts, “this was meant to be a surprise party, but–”

“You threw me a party? You’re here?”

“Yes, but–”

“Baby!” Amelia squeals, jumping into her boyfriend’s arms. I half roll my eyes, of course, she doesn’t care she’s walked into an awkwardly bright ‘surprise’ where the guests are uncomfortably half crouched behind furniture and the bar. She’s human fucking sunshine, she has no idea Harry just ruined it all – lest if she does, she doesn’t care. Niall waves to everyone from behind Amelia’s embrace to get on with the party, so the jukebox kicks in and people start to crawl their way to all the pink vodka sitting atop the polished bar.

Louis, Liam and I are finally able to stretch our legs, and Harry’s attention shifts back to his phone. It takes everything in me not to follow him and beat the everliving shit out of that motherfu–

“Charlie! You’re here too!”

My violent thoughts are cut off by Amelia suddenly before me, beaming and looking kind of surprised. A little offended, I engulf her in a hug, trying not to spiral into why my best friend seems shocked I’m at her birthday party. She just thought we’d be in Ireland, that’s all. Nothing to do with me. Or my schedule. Or my not being there lately.

We pull from each other, my mouth opening to wish her a happy birthday, say anything, but Louis pulls her into a hug and my distracted eyes catch Harry behind her. The rage that fills me at just the sight of his back is so familiar at this point, I live day and night with the feeling. I realise Amelia’s busy enough with the tens of people who came to celebrate her, so slinking away to the bar is easy enough.

"Your phone seems to be working fine, then."

I take up the sticky leather stool beside him, making him jump a little as he’s entirely engrossed in his device. God, he’s like a toddler. Harry sighs, setting his apparent lifeline face down atop the bar before tilting in his chair to face me, our denim-covered knees bashing together in the process.

"What are you talking about?"

My tongue pokes at my cheek to stop myself from biting his head off.

"I texted you. Like a million times."

"Ah,” he lifts his chin, “I had you blocked years ago, princess."

Why doesn't that surprise me? I roll my eyes and turn to face the racks of liquor, eyeing which bottle I'd most like to drown in first. A Harry-shaped blob moves in my peripheral, propping it’s elbow on the wood and leaning it’s head against it’s palm.

"I'm kidding. I was driving, I picked Amelia up.

"You picked her up?!” And I thought I couldn’t get angrier.

"That's what 'I picked up Amelia' means, yes."

I scramble for words, for sanity. "Why?"

"Her studio was on the way and I had time to kill."

He’s un-fucking-believable, “you couldn't have at least let her walk in first?"

At this point, I genuinely can't tell if Harry really forgot this was meant to be a surprise or if he’s just that self-centred. Probably a healthy mix of both.

"Apparently not. Now, this is lovely," he straightens, grabs his phone and nods to someone behind the bar. I follow his gaze, seeing (predictably) Rachel waiting beside the staff exit, bottom lip between her teeth, a joint between her fingers, "but I'm going to talk to people I actually like."

I let his little comment slide, settling for a scoff and a grumble beneath my breath as he disappears behind the bar. Slinging his arm around Rachel, Harry takes the joint from her and the two of them enter the smoking area together.

"Hey, stranger."

I snap out of my frustration-fuelled daze, blinking back to a reality where Zayn’s standing before me – all kind whiskey eyes and awaiting smiles and inky marks peaking from his usual black shirt. I grin, the type of happiness I only ever get from him distracting me and pulling me back to Earth.

"Z, hey!"

"What're you drinking?" He slings a towel over his shoulder, leaning his forearms against the bar as he becomes close. Dangerously close. Close enough for me to smell his sagey aftershave and spilt liquor. I hum, avoiding his eye to browse the racks again.

We met Zayn years ago when trying to discover bars that wouldn��t be swamped with paps, and all became fast friends with him when he offered us discounted drinks for tattoo practice. And, low and behold, three years down the line, we're all borderline alcoholics with shitty tattoos.

Him and the pap-less element of Malibu’s keeps us the dive bar’s most loyal customers, because fuck me if the drinks aren’t bad. Zayn’s one of the best people I know – terrible bartender, though. The worse. He's always said bartending is just a way to make ends meet while he works on his art, and I believe him, but God I hope he meets those ends soon. I'm always cautious when ordering from him, and as much as I'd love to get absolutely wasted tonight, alcohol poisoning's probably not the way to go.

"Tequila?"

"Right up," he winks, turning to grab some Don from the top rack. While he's getting my shots ready, I notice Harry’s return: Rachel-less and a little more rugged than before. He coughs as he sulks behind me and takes his seat back up, brushing his long locks back and behind his ears. I squint my eyes as I study him; he messes with his hair, then coughs again, then adjusts the buttons on his shirt, and then messes with his hair one last time.

Zayn lays out three shots accompanied by three limes and three pots of salt, and after Harry has ordered himself a whiskey I can't help myself.

"Five minutes has to be a record."

He sighs, nodding thanks toward Zayn after he sets down the glass and leaves to serve another customer.

"Try not to sound too jealous, Charlie."

I scoff, preparing myself for my first shot, “what of? A five-minute snog?"

"Eugh," Harry splutters. I pause while lining up a line of salt on the back of my hand.

"What?"

"That word."

I pique, "what word? Snog?"

He shudders, bringing his glass up to his lips. “Don’t say it again."

"God, you're twelve," I take a deep breath – I'm terrible at shots – lick the salt, shoot the shot, and suck the lime till the bitterness overpowers the petrol-like burning stops it’s Hellish trail down my throat, "what would you call it then?" The question leaves me a little rougher than I intended, and Harry’s low chuckle at my struggle seems to prolong the recovery time.

"I don't know," he clears his throat, "how about we do it then you tell me?"

I pause, once again, mid-line. He full-on belly laughs, now.

"You're disgusting," this one seems to go down harsher, but something in me tells me it's because Harry just put that image in my head.

"Least I'm not bagging free drinks from my ex."

I shake my head, my eyes squeezed shut while I juggle recovering and coming back with something witty.

"They're not free," fumbled the witty thing, seemingly, “and he’s not my ex.”

I push the two empty glasses aside, mentally preparing myself for my third and final shot. The good thing about my alcohol tolerance is that it is worryingly low. These shots will do me for the next few hours; enough to have me dancing on tables, not enough to make my head bang any more than it usually does in the show we have tomorrow.

“Right,” he gives me a look behind the whiskey glass, the rim just brushing his bottom lip as his arched brows raise, “just someone you used to frequently bang and cried about, what was it… five times one night?”

"Whatever," I’m sick of this salt now, "at least I have somewhat of an ex," I coat my tongue with the bitter crystals, asking a muffled, "how long was your relationship, again?"

Harry swallowed the last of his whiskey, "five minutes, according to you.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #spare parts series #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles smut #1d series #1d smut #ot5 #1d ot5 #one direction ot5 #one direction series #harry styles series #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst

[frosty-the-killer-doll]

What do you think Cisco and Killer Frost’s dynamic is like? If you don’t mind me asking

canon-wise it makes me scream.

their screentime together tampers off in later seasons, even before cisco leaves. i'll forever be pissed about how they did a big shot of everyone at frost's funeral and cisco wasn't there, wasn't even fucking mentioned in that episode. frost only got to say goodbye to cisco in a text message before he left and she died. as if they were never close, like they were barely friends at all. cisco comes to like frost so much that a point of one episode is caitlin's jealousy about her friends seemingly liking frost more than her, and you're not even going to mention cisco at the funeral for one of his closet friends? the funeral of his best friend's other half? what if i killed you?

they were friends, canonically, and it mattered for a long time.

so much of frost's introductory season focuses on cisco's reaction to it. how cisco is watching his best friend slip through his fingers, bit by bit, having to see caitlin's warm heart go cold. seeing caitlin as this "cold, vicious killer" (caitlin's words) was already a fear of his from his earth-2 adventures, a fear caitlin later joins him in, even though she says herself that "killer frost will never exist on this earth." caitlin didn't know it then, but she was lying. frost already existed inside caitlin long before flashpoint made her known. 

so cisco and caitlin have met this bizzaro version of what cait could've been, that caitlin has it in her to be this selfish victimizer that eats and eats away at warmth, to be a willing weapon in the arsenal of someone terrible enough to make plural worlds tremble under them, to make a tender act like kissing into an assaulting coldness, to kill. maybe it was just that caitlin snow that could do that, they think, maybe it wouldn't happen to this caitlin because she doesn't have a charlie and she's not a meta and she lost her ronnie first and, and, and.

but then the powers come, and caitlin can't hold frost back anymore. frost isn't just watching from behind caitlin's eyes anymore. she knows team flash as well as caitlin and she's never loved them like caitlin, so she has all the advantage and none of the hesitation, caitlin herself is the only hesitation.

but, eventually, when that necklace gets ripped off her? caitlin stops hesitating. she would've rather died than risk becoming killer frost, everyone knew it, she said it, and her friends still did this to her. she doesn't know it was all her dad's doing, she thinks her friends willingly broke her again. so she stops hesitating. she knows she can fight frost's influence, her control, the cold. but she doesn't want to be the one that fights anymore.

IT'S JUST. when it comes to frost and how cisco perceives her at first, i keep thinking of... almost an alzheimers allegory? but frost isn't exactly forgetting caitlin, she's more... coloring all of caitlin's perceptions in an entirely different light. forcing cisco to see caitlin in that entirely different light, in a way he hates. he isn't fighting for frost at all in s3, he's fighting for caitlin, singular, unknowing that she was never truly singular, unknowing that the cure he eventually whips up in the finale wouldn't make frost go away because frost has been a piece of caitlin for almost as long as caitlin has been caitlin. he wants a version of caitlin that doesn't exist, but they don't know that- only frost is privy to that information, and she never shares it, even before she goes dormant in s4.

frost knew she wasn't made of dark matter, she wasn't born out of flashpoint, and she didn't tell (savitar knew, and he never spoke of it bc of how blurred caitlin and frost were when they worked together). why? because she could use barry's guilt and caitlin's anger to her advantage, yes. but maybe also because she was afraid that since she had been apart of caitlin for so long, them loving caitlin wholeheartedly meant always loving frost a little, too. 

cisco loved frost for years before he ever met her, and he didn't know it. 

but he doesn't see her as frost, he sees right through frost herself, he only sees caitlin, he only wants caitlin. he's never had 'just caitlin,' but nobody knows that, and, hey, frost's never had 'just caitlin' either, so can you really blame cisco? at least, that's their s3 dynamic; he'll try to fight frost as little as possible, he will protect frost as much as he can,  but only in an effort to get rid of frost completely. he doesn't want to accept that frost is part of who caitlin is now, that frost was always this secret hidden under caitlin's skin, that frost and caitlin were as individual as they were inseparable.

ALSO i really hate how julian is made the center of so many moments that should've been about frost and cisco like i don't think cisco would've disrespected caitlin by ripping off the necklace himself but. "i don't love you, julian. i never loved any of you" should've been directed at cisco first and foremost. julian mattering so little in the grand scheme of caitlin, frost and cisco's narratives really brings the importance of them down.

cisco starts to understand that loving frost is simply another way to love a piece of caitlin in s4. and he loves everything about caitlin, every piece that's just her and every piece that's shared the way her entire body/mind is shared. caitlin has always been a little blunt, but frost's got all that with none of the tact; that means no aftercare and no sugar-coding with her bluntness. caitlin is a sweet syrup shot in frost's black coffee.

frost is straight-forward, loud, fun, emotional, rude. first in s4, she's a weapon that cisco can bring out of caitlin; then she's caitlin's mean roommate; and then, finally, she's frost. she stops hinging entirely on caitlin in his mind. (this happens way quicker for ralph, but ralph didn't really know cait well before frost came out, so.) i think it's mostly when frost disappears that cements frost as a complete individual woman in cisco's head, albeit she's a complete individual woman that's inside another complete individual woman (haha, gay); what with cisco helping caitlin find her again, by doing tests on caitlin, never expecting an apology from caitlin for risking cynthia's life when cait used the cold gun on devoe in an attempt to trigger frost out, and finding out frost was caitlin's ulterior motive in convincing team flash to bring in amunet black. 

they're FRIENDSSSSS let them be FRIENDSSSSS why wasn't cisco at the funeral of his FRIENDDDD

cisco calls himself basically caitlin's brother, and frost is caitlin's significant other and soul sister all wrapped up into one, so it's almost a "meet the in-laws" situation happening simultaneously on both their sides. as the series goes on, frost becomes someone cisco can come to for direct honesty and cisco becomes a teasing, encouraging safe space for frost's insecurities. it's delicious and canon should've focused more on it !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#frosty answers #arrowverse asks #snow posting #caitlin snow #killer frost #cisco ramon #arrowverse #the flash #the flash cw #cw the flash

[zestialmorde]

🕸️Zestial Headcannons and Blog Lore🕸️

One month + 100 follower special! Will be linked on the pinned post and will (loosely) be followed. Also will be maintained if needed

Friends of the Blog

🕷️ weapons-maker-carmilla (she/her)

🕸️Carmilla! Amazing friend! Mod is also awesome.

🕷️ witchyroman (she/her)

🕸️Ramona! Witch, troublemaker, cat?

Zestial Lore

Mod Ships with: Carmilla, Vox

Soul Count: Alot dont worry about it

Domain: Doomsday (retired), Intel (current)

Powers

🕷️ Can summon items (but only items he owns)

🕷️ teleportation

🕷️ webs (like alastors tentecles, not actually webs more like ropes)

Zestial's Personality

🕷️ He's pretty nice to everyone on the blog but more just because he's bemused no one's scared of him

🕷️ Sadist. Revels in the screams and panic. (why him and Alastor get along so well)

🕷️ Also just a little guy. He's a complex person

🕷️ Unaware of most 'Modern' things IE bands, brands, (mortal) world events.

🕷️ Gossip! He wants it all!! Other blog drama tell him. He hardly cares if he knows the person or not.

🕷️ Lacks empathy for those he's not close to. Especially sinners who've lost their soul (very much thinks its your fault)

🕷️Sapiosexual: He's attracted to smart people (Carmilla and Vox)

🕷️ Hates nicknames. Thinks they're tacky. Only lets those closest to him use any nickname for him, and will not use your nickname if he knows your real name (aka Charlie is only Princess Charlotte... Let's be glad he doesn't know Vaggie)

🕷️ Surprisingly good with children

🕷️ Enjoys reading in his free time

Likes

🕷️ rain

🕷️ gossip

🕷️ theater

🕷️ tea (hemlock specically) *hemlock is a poisonous plant*

🕷️ Carmilla and co (platonic?)

🕷️ Most animals

🕷️ mozzarella sticks

🕷️ reading

Dislikes

🕷️ unpreparedness

🕷️ people who think they're better than everyone else

🕷️ winter

🕷️ coffee

🕷️ nicknames

🕷️ Shakespeare

Zestial's Life before Death

🕷️ Farmer in England 16th-17th century

🕷️ Poor like Poor poor

🕷️ Barely survived the Winters (why he hates winter)

🕷️ Cannibalism?

🕷️ Was really smart despite his situation, like was the only person around who could read and write

🕷️ Hates Shakespeare

🕷️ Knew he was smarter than everyone else but in like that annoying way.

🕷️ God complex (aka why he killed people he didnt think it mattered)

🕷️ Lots of siblings. He was on the older side (not the oldest maybe 2nd or 3rd oldest)

Opinions on other characters

copy pasting from various asks

🕸️Charlie: Princess Charlotte entertains... bold notions, yet she exhibits commendable dedication in pursuing them, a trait not commonly found among many. 7/10

🕸️Vaggie: I possess only a partial understanding, gleaned from Carmilla's accounts, yet she appears to serve as a capable protector for the princess. 8/10

🕸️Alastor: A notable Ally, but too... pretentious for my tastes at times. He is rather enjoyable when he lets himself relax with a bottle of wine however! 9/10

🕸️Husk: A lesser overlord who let his greed consume him. Hell's favored Icarrus. 3/10

🕸️Angel dust: If I'm not mistaken this is Valentino's.... favored companion? I suppose I feel primarily pity for him. 5/10

🕸️Niffty: A delightful little mischief-maker indeed! Her antics bring forth an entertaining chaos to behold. 10/10

🕸️Cherri bomb: I've merely glimpsed her during her skirmishes for territory. She strikes me as rather... loud, wouldn't you say? 6/10

🕸️Sir Pentious: I am not acquainted with this individual; perhaps they hold too little significance? ?/10

The Vees, collectively, exhibit a deplorable lack of regard for the intricate dynamics among all overlords. Instead, they resort to unsavory tactics to achieve their objectives. Untrustworthy individuals indeed. They brazenly attempt to alter a game that has been in play since long before their inception.

Starting with Velvette, I find her demeanor to be disagreeable. She lacks understanding of respect yet insists upon receiving it in return. Like a child accustomed to always getting her way, she initiates conflicts without the capacity to see them through, presuming upon others' tolerance. One day, her recklessness will surely have consequences, though it astonishes me that it has not already.

Regarding Valentino, I shall not expend much effort. He is a vile individual, lacking any appreciation for the delicate craft of torture and debauchery. He masquerades as a paragon of masculinity, yet would a true man have to stoop to the depths of drugging others to satisfy his desires?

As for Vox, I surmise that among the three, he is the... least objectionable. Although, admittedly, that is not saying much. His arrogance may very well prove to be his undoing. Nonetheless, he does exhibit some semblance of competence as a leader... if only he were surrounded by better associates to lead.

Surely, my sentiments toward Carmilla require no elaboration. She holds the esteemed position of my foremost confidante, and I am perpetually grateful to have her by my side in the afterlife. As Oddette whimsically puts it, we are "besties for the resties."

Alastor... Ah, Alastor certainly made a splash upon his demise. He exudes power and cunning, traits one certainly desires in an ally. It is quite intriguing to learn of his endeavors, though he tends to keep his various schemes close to the chest. Speaking openly of one's plans often leads to their downfall, after all.

And then there's Rosie! Surprisingly, we engage in frequent conversations. She always has a new variety of tea for me to sample, and she takes pleasure in exchanging gossip about our fellow overlords. She exudes charm in her own unique way, making her a valuable friend.

And as for Zeezi... well, Zeezi is unmistakably herself. A tad boisterous and a bit too reminiscent of Velvette, if thou were to ask me. Nonetheless, Zeezi possesses the invaluable trait of knowing when to temper her words, a quality I deem commendable.

#Zestial dictates #hazbin hotel ask blog #hazbin hotel roleplay #hazbin hotel rp #hazbin rp #hazbin roleplay #hazbin hotel rp blog #hazbin hotel askblog #zestial #roleplay #ask blog #ask me anything #inbox #hazbin zestial #zestial morde #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel 2024

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU [28] DEAL

Daryl Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

Summary: Rick has to solve a problem that interrupts their peace.

Warnings: language, death

Song: ?????

A/N: Hello. Now chapters will be published on Wednesdays. See you soon, and enjoy!

Five, unknown men were standing and looking at them in horror, for which they couldn't really blame them. They stormed into a locked room and cut a man's leg off, like some freaks.

"Who the hell are you?" asked a man with tattoos and a prison uniform taken off his shoulder, so it was lower on his hips.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl asked.

"He's bleeding out!" screamed Rick, trying to bring focus back on important matters. "We gotta go back. Come around here. Put pressure on the knee. Hard! Push, push!"

Charlie moved her eyes from her friends back to the prisoners.

"Why don't you come on out of there?" said Daryl and T-Dog put a metallic bar in between the handles, so they could have free hands just in case they were needed. "Slow and steady."

"What happened to him?" asked the man with long hair.

"He got bit," Charlie said.

"Bit?" he asked and pulled out his gun from behind his pants.

Charlie took out her gun and pointed at the man, T-Dog following her moves. "Easy now."

"Nobody needs to get hurt," Daryl said.

"You have medical supplies?" Glenn asked, passing the prisoners. He ignored completely the thing that someone was pointing a gun at him, he entered some room, trying to find whatever he needed.

"Woah, where do you think you're going? Who the hell are you people anyway?" asked the man holding a gun, which didn't really bother Glenn.

"Don't look like no rescue team." said another one.

Charlie looked at the five men with eyes that were radiating something like compassion. She was them once, waiting to be rescued for something that could have been three weeks or months. One of many things that she had learned during the end of the world was not waiting for a rescue, there was nobody able to save you. That's why she decided to be the one breaking their bubble."If a rescue team is what you're waiting for, don't."

"Come on, we gotta go," said Rick, somehow ignoring the presence of the prisoners.

"Holy Jesus." whispered one of them.

"Are you crazy?" the other said. "Don't open that!"

"We got this," Charlie said and moved away from the prisoners, ready to kill the Walkers.

Naively she thought that the men they met somewhere in the prison would be just a distant memory once they came back to their block, but she was wrong. "That's far enough," Daryl said to the prisoners, who apparently walked right behind them.

"Cellblock C." the one with tattoos inhaled deeply as if the air around here smelled like home. "Cell 4...That's mine, gringo. Let me in."

"Today's your lucky day, fellas," said Daryl. "You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go."

He wanted them gone right this instant. They couldn't be trusted, they were in prison at the end of the day. Daryl didn't want them around their cellblock and around Charlie, the best for them was not even looking at her.

"What you got going on in there?" asked the prisoner.

"It's none of your concern," Daryl answered.

"Don't be telling me what's my concern."

Charlie clicked her gun, signaling that she was ready to shoot. That would be something new to kill a living and breathing person, but she had a feeling that it was either them or the prisoners.

"Chill, man." said a tall guy. "Dude's leg is messed up. Besides, we're free now. Why are we still in here?"

"The man's got a point." Dixon once again was faster and opened his mouth before Charlie even made up her mind.

"Yeah," nodded another man. "And I have to check on my old lady."

Reed sighed heavily because there was probably no chance that there still was some old lady to check. If she was still where he left her she would probably be ready to eat him alive."A group of civilians breaking into a prison you got no business being in..." interrupted a man with tattoos that was getting on Charlie's nerves more and more. "Got me thinking there ain't no place for us to go."

"Why don't you go find out?" Charlie asked, narrowing her eyes at the guy.

"Why don't you just kneel for me, girl?" he snapped at her immediately. "You like to run your mouth I see."

Daryl all tensed up at the man's words, he was ready to kill him really. He saw that Charlie didn't feel comfortable - how would she be? If she didn't hold a gun, she would probably dig her nails into the inside of her palms, like she used to do. Charlie on the other hand was burning. She was angry and she was holding a gun, so she was in charge now. She wasn't an innocent girl who needed a knight in shining armor, and she knew that pulling that trigger would be easier than one could suppose. "Why don't I just put a bullet in your dick?"

"I would like to see you trying, princess."

"Maybe we'll just be going now." one of the prisoners gulped.

"Hey, we ain't leaving." protested the tatted man.

"You ain't coming in either," Charlie said.

"This is my house, my rules. I go where I damn well please," he argued.

"There ain't nothing for you." she spat.

"Why don't you go back to your own sandbox?" he said. "Maybe I would let you stay princess. We could have fun."

Charlie wanted to throw up at the gaze she felt on her body. The man was rather handsome, but still, he was creeping the shit out of her and making her feel dirty just by imagining what he would do to her if they had met in different conditions. That's why without thinking and without blinking she just fired her gun. A bullet didn't even graze the man but flew extremely close to his crotch.

"Hey!" Rick screamed, making everyone turn their attention towards him. "Everyone relax. There's no need for this."

"How many are in there?"

"Too many for you to handle." Rick lied.

Yeah. Especially, Lori, they wouldn't handle a pregnant lady who would probably give birth to a baby by sneezing any moment soon. Oh, there was also Carl. The man who was probably twice Carl's height would never handle him. And Beth would beat them with the power of love and a song...Charlie had to admit that they were pathetic.

"You guys robbed a bank or something?" the prisoner asked. "Why don't you take him to a hospital?"

They exchanged glances, searching for a person who was going to break it to the man. Charlie felt no remorse for them, so she decided to be the one kicking a puppy. "How long have you been locked in that cafeteria?

"Going on like 10 months."

"A riot broke out." said another man. "Never seen anything like it."

"Attica in speed, man," said Axel. Charlie sent him a skeptical stare. He was acting as if they were friends and they weren't, they were pointing guns at each other.

"Ever heard about dudes going cannibal, dying, coming back to life?" asked the tall man. "Crazy."

"One guard looked out for us, and locked us up in the cafeteria." said prisoner. "Told us to sit tight, threw me this piece, said he'd be right back."

"Yeah, and that was 292 days ago."

"Minus 94 according to my calcula..." Axel opened his mouth.

"Shut up!" the tattooed man snapped.

"We were thinking that the Army or the National Guard should be showing up any day now." added another man.

"There is no Army," Charlie said.

"What do you mean?"

"There's no government, no hospitals, no police. It's all gone." Rick confirmed.

"For real?"

"You see us laughing? What kind of question is that?" Charlie snapped at Axel.

"We're serious," said Rick.

"What about my moms?" asked the tall guy.

"My kids? And my old lady?" gasped another man. He stepped forward in their direction. "Yo, you got a cell phone or something that we can call our families?"

Charlie was looking at them and decided that those men were more pathetic than her group. The group was pathetic, but the prisoners seemed to be even more hopeless. Archer next to her opened his mouth in annoyance."You just don't get it, do you?"

"No phones, no computers. Nothing," she said, and then she looked at the guy with long hair. "Nada."

"As far as we can see, at least half the population has been wiped out." Rick cleared. "Probably more."

"Ain't no way." one of them said, still not believing.

"See for yourself," Charlie said, lowering her gun.

The bright sun hit their faces as they opened the doors to the prison, so the five men could see with their own eyes how the world looked like now. There were still bodies of the Walkers that were killed yesterday as they didn't have time to burn them and clear the courtyard yet.

"Good Lord. They're all dead." observed the man.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see these fences." said the other one, ignoring the fact that most of their fellow prisoners were dead now.

"You never said..." said the man with long hair. "How the hell did you get in here in the first place?"

"Cut a hole in that fence over there by that guard tower," Charlie said, crossing arms on her chest.

"That easy, huh?"

"Where there's a will, there's a way," said Daryl, driving the man's attention away from Charlie.

"Easy for you to say."

Charlie was looking with disgust as one of the prisoners was poking the dead body as if he wasn't a human before. The man could talk with him before the world collapsed, and now was acting as if it was some kind of dead bug. When he noticed her eyes on him, he asked. "So what is this, like a disease?"

She didn't want to answer him, even though he looked friendly. Charlie was disgusted by them and just wished they were gone already. That's why Rick was the one to answer. "Yeah, and we're all infected."

"What do you mean infected?" Axel asked. "Like AIDS or something?"

"If I was to kill you, shoot an arrow in your chest, you'd come back as one of these things," Daryl explained. "It's gonna happen to all of us."

"Ain't no way these Robin Hood cats are responsible for killing all these freaks. Must be 50 bodies out here." the guy with tattoos whose name was Tomas apparently, murmured under his nose. "Where'd you come from?"

"Atlanta," Rick said.

"Where are you headed?"

"For now, nowhere." the leader answered Tomas's question again.

"I guess you can take that area down there near the water." he pointed at the bridge and small pond that were just behind the fence. "Should be comfortable."

"We're using that field for crops," Grimes said.

"We'll help you move your gear out." ignored his words Tomas.

"That won't be necessary," Rick said. "We took out these Walkers. This prison is ours.

"Slow down, cowboy," he said and furrowed his brows. "You snatched the locks off our doors."

"We'll give you new locks if that's how you want it." Charlie rolled her eyes.

"This is our prison," Tomas said annoyed. "We were here first."

"Locked in a broom closet?" Charlie murmured, for what she earned an angry look.

"We took it, set you free. It's ours." Rick said. "We spilled blood."

"We're moving back into our cellblock." the prisoner still tried to reason.

"You'll have to get your own."

"It's mine," Tomas said. "I've still got personal artifacts in there. That's about as mine as it gets."

"Cell 4 was yours?" Charlie asked. "Then there's nothing that belongs to you. Not anymore."

"Woah," Tomas said, ready to fight.

"Maybe let's try to make this work out so everybody wins."

"I don't see that happening." protested Tomas who seemed to be a leader.

"Neither do I." Charlie nodded.

"I ain't going back in that cafeteria for one more minute."

"There are other cell blocks," said Rick.

"You could leave." Daryl shrugged. "Try your luck out on the road."

"If these three pussies can do all this, the least we can do is take out another cell block," Tomas said.

"With what?"

"Atlanta here will spot us some real weapons," he answered to his friend who seemed surprised by the sudden change. "Won't you, boss?"

"How stocked is that cafeteria?" the ex-sheriff deputy asked. "It must have plenty of food. Five guys lasting almost a year?"

"I'm sure as hell don't look like anybody's been starving." Daryl nodded.

"There's only a little left," they answered.

"We'll take half," Rick said and it wasn't like a question. "In exchange, we'll help clear out a cellblock."

"Didn't you hear him?" asked one of the prisoners. "There's only a little left."

"But you got more food than you got choices." Rick shrugged. "You pay, we'll play. We'll clear out a block for you, then you keep to it."

Charlie knew something was not right. The sudden change in the man's behavior was suspicious. Besides, she didn't trust him at all, he was in prison for a reason. As far as she could remember, they didn't lock people here for being good and decent.

"All right."

"But let's be clear...If we see you out here anywhere near our people, if I so much as even catch a whiff of your scent, I will kill you." Rick warned him.

"Deal."

Waiting was the worst part of life. Even before all of this she absolutely hated waiting, it was making her anxious. It could be just waiting for her friends to come or waiting for a package, she hated that. But now in times when you never knew if your friends were still alive when they left for food, waiting got even worse. What was really shaking her up was the thought that Daryl was gone with some psychos and Hershel was probably dying in a cell.

"Food's here." Charlie's head snapped up as she heard T-Dog's voice.

She stood up and saw how two men were entering their cellblock. After Carl's question, they found out that T was carrying canned beef, corn, and canned cans how he put it. The boy was running after him, wanting to help and Charlie headed after them.

"Is everything all right?" she asked and T looked behind her at Rick.

"I don't trust those guys," he whispered. "I'm not sure we should let them have even a cell around here."

"What?"

"The big guy, Axel, and Oscar they seem fine, but the one with tats?" T furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm not sure, man."

"Where's Daryl? You left him with them?" she whisper-screamed at the man. "I'm going with you."

"Hey, hey, hey." T-Dog touched her shoulders. "First of all, he's a big boy and can handle stuff. Besides, if I came back there with you he would kill me."

"They're dangerous."

"He knows that. He volunteered to go with Rick, he knows the risk," he said. "That's why he didn't want you there."

That's how she ended up waiting some more...Waiting for Daryl and waiting for Hershel to wake up. She couldn't bear the sight of Beth trying to act as if nothing was going on and the sight of Maggie's puffy eyes. But Daryl robbed her of the ability to do something else. If he had let her go with them she wouldn't have to worry about Daryl as he would be close, and her mind would have been occupied. But she was in a cellblock C, leaning her back on a doorframe to Hershel's cell, standing in front of Glenn. He was fiddling with metal chains to the clock Hershel owned and she was looking at the doors, wishing and prying that they would show up in a second. That he would show up.

She noticed that Glenn looked up and focused his haze behind her. Charlie looked in that direction and saw Carl walking towards them with a bag. He could barely walk with how big the thing he carried was. In his other hand, he carried his gun.

"I thought you were organizing the food," she said.

"Even better." he smiled at her and she sighed as she knew that smile. He entered the cell and dropped the bag, showing what was inside. "Check it out."

"Where did you get this?" Carol gasped.

"From the infirmary?" he said. "There wasn't much left, but I cleared it out.

Yet again her feeling was correct. From the moment she heard Keep an eye on Carl, she knew that would be just a burden and sooner or later he would get her in trouble. And of course, he did!

Charlie wasn't sure if she was mad at him for going there all by himself or not taking her. That would be a hundred times better for her head.

"You went by yourself?" Lori asked.

"Yeah," Carl answered proudly.

"Are you crazy?" Lori opened her eyes wider at the answer and then she looked at Charlie. "You were supposed to keep an eye on him."

"I was," Charlie argued. "I turned just for a second, I swear!" she tried to explain herself, but then she realized that Lori wasn't in a place to judge her. "You think it's easy? He's not a baby anymore. Next time just put a chip around his ankle, that would help."

"Don't argue," Carl said. "It's no big deal. I killed two Walkers."

"You did what?!" Charlie gasped.

"You..." Lori looked away from her son. "All right, do you see this? This was with the whole group."

"We needed supplies, so I got them."

"I appreciate that, but..."

"Then got off my back!" he yelled.

"Carl!" Charlie said and placed her hand on his shoulder. "She's your mother. You can't talk to her like that."

"Listen, I think it's great that you wanna help..." but Lori didn't get to finish as Carl just ran out of the cell. Charlie didn't want to hear his mother blaming her for what she should have done, so she just followed the boy's lead.

"That was not cool Carl," she said, standing in the doors to his cell.

"I know. You already told me." he rolled his eyes. "I shouldn't talk to my mom like that."

"Well, yeah." she nodded. "But I meant the thing that you didn't tell me about going to the infirmary."

"What?"

"Next time, you want to do something extremely risky that also involves killing Walkers, you should tell me." she smiled at him slightly. "We could be a team," she added. "Now come on. You ought to apologize to your mom."

He sighed and smiled back at her.

The door opened and something very heavy dropped from her heart. All the tension she had just disappeared when her eyes met with Daryl and his barely noticeable smile.

"Hershel stopped breathing," said Carl to his father. "Mom saved him."

"You all right?" Charlie ignored the father and son conversation, so she could immediately talk with Daryl.

"I'm good," he answered, studying her face not knowing why she was so nervous. "Why shouldn't I?"

It felt strange. Nice...but still strange. She was again worrying about him as if he couldn't take care of himself. If she only knew what he came through, she wouldn't be so worked up over him and his well-being.

"Hey, I'm all right," he said, but his words seemed not to convince her, so he took her hand and placed it on his heart. "I'm good. See?"

Charlie could feel his heart beating and thudding, pumping blood. His skin was warm and his chest was moving as he was breathing. There were no more possible signs to tell that he was alive. She nodded her head and let her breathe out, calming her crazy heart.

"Daddy?" they both heard Maggie asking, so they walked towards the cell.

Another heavy stone fell from her heart. Hershel was all right and alive, and prisoners were taken care of. Everything was looking brighter again. The future was looking just fine.

previous masterlist next

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl the walking dead #daryl twd #daryl x reader

[havenmoon1369]

Getting Her Back- Prologue

It's 2005 just outside of Glasgow, Scotland and Drew just starting in the wrestling world has one more illegal job to do then he's free. He's ready to get his life on track for the sake of his unborn child that's due in a few months. Everything is set and ready to go for the heist. It's Drew, his friends Charlie and Mason. Drew was the only one leaving, Charlie and Mason were born into it. The heist was simple, break into a mansion that was locked up for the winter months which had expensive art and jewelry.

"You guys ready?" Asked Charlie. "Hell yeah I'm ready let's do this!" Said Mason. Drew is always a little nervous "Sure let's get this over with, I just want it to be done so I can move on." "Don't worry mate, last job for good then it's on with ya!" said Charlie.

They arrive at the mansion and put on their disguises to cover their face, hands, and eyes so no one can tell it's them. Charlie and Mason do all the technology work by knocking out cameras, lights, and door locks. They make their way into the mansion very quietly but very quickly because the tech knockout only lasts for 10 minutes. They make their way to the gallery first to collect the artwork with Charlie in front, Mason in the middle, and Drew watching their backs. As soon as Charlie opens the gallery door, BOOM! He's flung backwards with a huge hole in his chest and stomach. "WHAT THE FUCK!" screams Mason, Drew immediately goes into fight or flight mode. "We need to go, grab his upper body Mason, I've got his legs!" screams Drew. As they're running for the front door, they hear behind them someone screaming "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU DEGENERATES, I HOPE YOU THOUGHT IT WAS WORTH IT!" Neither Drew nor Mason saw who screamed it but they made it to the front door with lives. They throw Charlie in the back of the van, Drew hops in with him while Mason drives away as fast as he can. "We have to take him to hospital Mason!" Drew screams. "We can't, we just tried to pull off a heist bro!" Mason yells back. "Please Mason he's not going to make it otherwise, please go to hospital" Drew begs. Mason pulls the van over "Drew listen to me, there's nothing we can do for Charlie, you need to get out of this van right now, you were never here, you were not involved tonight, go home and never speak of this again" Mason says in a stern but broken voice. Drew doesn't hesitate and jumps out of the van crying for his friend. He realizes Mason dropped him near his neighborhood, so he quietly and slowly walks to his apartment that he shares with his girlfriend. He makes it there with no incident, he quietly unlocks the door and goes inside. His girlfriend is already asleep so he goes into the bathroom and turns on the shower. He stuffs his clothes that are covered in his friend's blood into his backpack, he plans on burning them the next day. He hops in the shower, washes himself down, making sure all the blood is gone off him. He quietly sobs for his friend and everything that had happened. Once he's done with the shower, he hides the backpack, gets into bed with his girlfriend, and holds her pregnant belly. He makes a silent promise to himself, his girlfriend, and their unborn child "After tonight, I will never go back to this life ever again, no matter what happens." He slowly drifts off to sleep.

#drew mcintyre fanfiction #drew mcintyre #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wrestling #wrestling stories #action stories

[ariabanshee]

I relate so much to most of the characters in heartstopper, to nick, charlie and darcy especially.

when i was 17 i fell in love with a friend who was a girl, she loved me too and i was happy about it, i’ve always found girls really beautiful and attractive, but living in an homophobic household i didn’t had the chance to see and understand how the world was for real.

i accepted my bisexuality without a problem, i was happy, i was in love and that was all that mattered, not what the person i was giving my affection to had between their legs, and even if the relationship ended it’s still like this for me.

i decided to come out with my at the time gay and proud best friend, the one who helped me open my eyes to the world, who i supported so much since the coming out (and before, we were best friends since we were 6).

i though i was safe with him, i could talk to him like i couldn’t do it with my parents or other friends.

one day my mom came back from the hairdresser, she was furious, my “friend” told the hairdresser i was lesbian and she started spreading the rumor everywhere, even to my mom. it wasn’t even true, he knew i was bi, but he didn’t care about anything, my concerns, my fears, my privacy.

my mom started that day throwing away my pictures from the walls, screaming about me not being her daughter anymore. i’ve spent months gaining “her trust” back, telling her he was lying and mean and that i was straight. she believed me, we changed hairdresser, i’ve never spoken to that “friend” since that day.

it’s 2023, i’m almost 28, my mom now is more open, i helped her figure out that the world is full of love, i think she probably knows that i’m not straight, but i still haven’t came out with my family. all my friends knows, they are better people, trusted people, the social world knows too, never been scared of being me apart that with my family.

even if probably i’m to old to be the target audience for heartstopper this show gives me so much happiness and hopes for the future generations. and i hope that we come to a day where outing will never be a thing anymore

#heartstopper #nick nelson #charlie spring #darcy olsson #lgbtq #kit connor #joe locke #kizzy edgell #elle argent #tao xu #william gao #yasmin finney #ben hope #sebastian croft #tara jones #corinna brown #tobie donovan #isaac henderson #olivia colman #sarah nelson #tori spring #jenny walser #rhea norwood #imogen heaney

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then SAN FRANCISCO (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

#15yrsago Middle schooler wins C-SPAN prize for doc about NSA spying https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2014/03/middle-schoolers-win-c-span-prizes-nsa-documentaries

#10yrsago Chocolate cookie milk shots: milk tumblers made from chocolate chip cookies https://www.eater.com/2014/3/5/6269103/dominique-ansel-to-debut-milk-cookie-shots-at-sxsw

#10yrsago Make taser-proof clothing with carbon-fiber linings https://hackaday.io/project/196-homamade-carbon-tape-taser-proof-clothing

#10yrsago Why does Hollywood like dystopian LAs and utopian SFs? https://boomcalifornia.org/2014/02/27/postcards-from-the-future/

#10yrsago Why DRM’ed coffee-pods may be just the awful stupidity we need https://memex.craphound.com/2014/03/06/why-drmed-coffee-pods-may-be-just-the-awful-stupidity-we-need/

#10yrsago Complaint: WIPO director illegally collected staff DNA in order to out whistleblower https://unwatch.org/un-whistleblower-head-world-intellectual-property-agency-stole-employees-dna-samples/

#10yrsago US Embassy and Godaddy conspire to censor dissenting Mexican political site https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2014/03/mexican-protest-site-censored-godaddy-us-embassys-help

#10yrsago Harry Reid on the Koch Brothers’ agenda https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2-cIpXIoY4

#10yrsago Rob Ford’s pitiable moment on Jimmy Kimmel https://www.joeydevilla.com/2014/03/04/rob-fords-red-faced-interview-on-jimmy-kimmel-live/

#10yrsago Video explainer: why open spectrum matters, and why you’re about to lose it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MhVx-kH7RAQ

#10yrsago Feds drop link-related charges against Barrett Brownhttps://www.techdirt.com/2014/03/05/barrett-brown-tells-court-that-sharing-link-is-not-crime/ https://www.techdirt.com/2014/03/05/barrett-brown-tells-court-that-sharing-link-is-not-crime/

#5yrsago Ruminations on decades spent writing stories that run more than 1,000,000 words https://www.antipope.org/charlie/blog-static/2019/03/lessons-learned-writing-really.html

#5yrsago A thorough defense of Modern Monetary Theory https://www.forbes.com/sites/johntharvey/2019/03/05/mmt-sense-or-nonsense/

#5yrsago A brilliant, simple exercise to teach privacy fundamentals https://twitter.com/Klonick/status/1102970732890316801

#5yrsago GOP lawmaker driven mad by bill that would decriminalize children who take naked photos of themselves, delivers a frenzied rant about anal sex on legislature’s floor https://www.thestranger.com/news/2019/03/05/39511377/a-bill-decriminalizing-teen-sexting-passes-the-house-causing-republican-to-scream-about-anal-sex-on-the-floor

#5yrsago Bounty hunters and stalkers are able to track you in realtime by lying to your phone company and pretending to be cops https://www.vice.com/en/article/panvkz/stalkers-debt-collectors-bounty-hunters-impersonate-cops-phone-location-data

#5yrsago From prisons to factories to offices: the spread of workplace surveillance and monitoring tech https://datasociety.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/DandS_WorkplaceMonitoringandSurveillance-.pdf

#5yrsago NH GOP lawmakers mocked gun violence survivors by wearing clutchable pearl necklaces to gun control hearing https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2019/03/06/gop-lawmakers-wore-pearls-while-gun-violence-victims-testified-activists-were-outraged/

#5yrsago Omniverse CEO rejects piracy accusations, claims that he has a legit, “mind-blowing” 100-year license to stream TV on the internet https://www.lightreading.com/video-broadcast/omniverse-ceo-i-m-doing-everything-literally-by-the-book-

#1yrago Biden set to appoint mass foreclosure cheerleader to the Fed https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/06/personnel-are-policy/#janice-eberly

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

#pluralistic

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

I am stoked to wish @thebooktopus a very happy birthday with a nameplate and a rec list! Maddy deserves all the love in the world for being such an amazing person who lifts others up. It must have been late last year/early this year when I started seeing her pop in regularly via various Discord servers (and she also mods a few too!). When @anaxandria-writes recced a Maddy fic and invited her to the Wizarding Creators Den (where we were getting hyped about said fic being complete), I was super excited! Once Maddy and I got to know each other and realised we both loved Drarry AND so many rare pairs, the rest was history. Let’s be honest: Maddy is a true sport when it comes to cheerleading and supporting so many people. She’s sweet, passionate and easy-going as an alpha and a beta. Right off the bat, you can tell Maddy loves stories and ideas, and she wants to help fellow creators out. She’s engaged, and since she’s an avid reader of many things, that offers a wonder opportunity for new, beautiful friendships to form. If you want someone to scream about your work (WIP or finished), Maddy is your person! Her insights on everything are also optimistic and heartfelt. It’s all in the comments she leaves for people. She’s thoughtful in what she says, and you can feel the appreciation and enthusiasm she has for each work she reads/views. I'm sure folks who have gotten comments and tags from her know what I’m talking about. Her words truly mean a lot. Can we talk about Maddy’s gorgeous recs? YES, because there are sooo many good ones! These always brighten up my day when I see them on my dashboard. Her recs have been one way I’ve been able to find, read and add fics to my TBR list. I also think Maddy has a special superpower to read and absorb all the things, because the time and effort it takes to keep up and make monthly recs is impressive and labour-intensive. She’s currently killing it with Game of Drarry fic recs right now, and you can see ALL of her recs here. ALSO, her Mutuals March project. OMG. Maddy was a gem to go through so many creators’ works to shine a spotlight on each one of them. This must have been a beast of a project to take on, yet what a delight was it to see so many works I haven’t seen before! I thought it was a brilliant project when I first heard about, and little did I know that Maddy would surprise me by going through my works, showering them with comments AND giving me my own post. I have never had anyone do that for me before, and this just shows how kind Maddy is to make people feel like their work matters to fandom. Since then, Maddy has become one of my regular supporters, and I’m grateful and lucky to call her a friend. While I’ve been challenging myself to make and approach new projects in different ways (whether it be ships, mediums, formats, or even writing more one-shots and writing a bunch of microfics), Maddy’s encouragement has always been so uplifting. She has made me realise I am better than I give myself credit for, that my work is unique, and that I should run with that. So, that’s what I’m doing! If Maddy doesn’t have a full plate already, she made HP Next Gen Fest happen this year (which just finished posting) to spread the love for alll the next gen ships. Andddd of course, she’s a writer who has written some excellent Drarry fics and rare pair stories! Maddy has a way of embracing humour, flirting, fluff and sass all in on go, which makes character dynamics fun yet sexy! Quite of few of her fics have made me go down some rabbit holes and wanting more. Here are some of my fav Maddy fics: 🦑 >>> The Dragon Tamer & The Snake Slayer (Charlie/Neville, E, 17.7k)

Summary:  Professor Neville Longbottom has an unfortunate crush on his newest colleague, Charlie Weasley. Charlie, who is pure magic personified, even in a wizarding world. Whose scars and laughter make Neville come undone. Charlie, who could never be interested in Neville... right?

Remember that Maddy fic rec I mentioned above? THIS IS IT. I did not know I needed this fic until I read it, and gods, I love Herbtamer more now. There’s a wonderful acknowledgement to demisexuality, an excellent use of consent, and the energy between Neville and Charlie’s friendship is so warm. Also, these two mesh so well together that they fit like pieces of a puzzle, as they should. 🐙 >>> Let Me Count the Ways (Drarry, E, 3.6k)

Summary: Intimacy comes in many forms. Draco wants to explore them all with Harry.

OKAY. This is such a beautiful and well-written fic for sooo many reasons. What an amazing take on asexuality, and I adore how Draco wants to make everything so good for Harry. They’re both so soft, and full of sooo mannnyy feelings. All of their actions and words are enough to prove that they absolutely love each other. Seeing all the ways their relationship changes over time will make you melt into a puddle. If you want some sexy fluff, go read this!| 🦑 >>> Are Those Drugs in Your System, or Are You Just Happy to See Me?  (Drarry, T, 1.3k)

Summary: While Harry is out on patrol on New Year's Eve, he stumbles (literally) into Draco. When their eyes meet, Harry is immediately concerned - why are Draco's pupils so wide? Is he high? Nope. Turns out he's just in love.

What a sweet and fun read! If you want some classic Drarry banter, you’ve got it in here. Also, Draco is absolutely precious, blunt and sassy, just the way we like him. Such a wonderful take on a NYE fic. 🐙 >>> Life After Quidditch (Flintwood, E, 11k)

Summary: After a career-ending injury, Oliver Wood is forced to take an early retirement. And what does early retirement look like for famous Quidditch players? The charity circuit. Galas, bake sales, auctions—you name it, Oliver’s agent had signed him up for it. Oliver didn’t know what to expect from this new life, but it certainly wasn’t Marcus Flint popping up at every turn. Or for him to be friendly and welcoming, unwilling to let Oliver stew in his self-loathing. Or for him to look so good in yoga pants. Or to fall for the git.

The way Maddy writes Flintwood is outstanding, and this fic does not disappoint. She has such a way of bringing in teasing, humour and all the UST together when it comes to Oliver and Marcus. Their banter is spot on, and I also love how these two have changed as people since school. Of course, Oliver tries to figure out how the world still exists when Marcus isn’t antagonising him (aka Marcus has other ways to push Oliver’s buttons that doesn’t involve fist fights). And the charity events? Hilarious. 10000% worth the read to see how these two get together, and for all the clever lines and flirting. You can find more of Maddy’s work on AO3. Make sure to leave kudos and comments to show appreciation for her fandom contributions. Maddy, you are truly special and one of a kind. Thank you again for spreading so much love and for making so many people feel seen and cared for. I hope you have a wonderful day!

#thebooktopus #happy birthday #drarry #herbtamer #flintwood #hp fanfic #rec lists #fic recs #spicy #read at your own risk #friends with bdays #lettering #sugareey does lettering #sugareey recs things #fandom friends