#but if there’s one thing my mom would never ever ever do it is getting her kids out of things by cheating

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.

Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.

You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.

“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.

She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.

You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.

Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”

You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.

You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.

You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.

You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.

As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.

You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.

You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.

“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”

“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”

“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”

You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.

You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.

Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.

The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.

🏠

Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.

She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.

You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.

“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.

You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.

You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.

“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.

“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”

“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.

You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.

“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”

You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.

The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.

His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.

Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.

She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.

You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.

“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.

#dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

[muchlovekatia]

✧ ˚ · . 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 —

. . theodore nott x

reader ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

SYNOPSIS : maybe theodore nott isn't the best boyfriend. but he is rather observant, isn't he?

⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔹

warnings! :

none :)

theodore nott and acknowledging the little things <3

.ೃ࿐ 🎞️

〰️

"i'm thinkin' about reading this new book," you spoke, your hands absentmindedly running through theo's ruffled hair in the way that you knew he loved. "mia told me it was good. my friend, remember?"

you really didn't want to bother him much whenever he seemed on the brink of sleep, but theo always insisted that he loved it whenever you talked while he was tired. he said it helped him fall asleep, which you couldn't deprive him of, so, late at night, propped up against your headboard with his head on your torso and his arms wrapped around your middle, you rattled off meaningless details about your day, from how you were a moment late to lunch, to that there was an ache in your left leg. sometimes, he responded, other times, he didn't, and you never pushed him to, either.

"the one who keeps holding you in class?" he muttered, and you huffed a laugh. since you'd developed a friendship with mia, you fell victim to talking a lot in class and getting held behind for extra work. theo loved complaining about it, too.

"yea." a soft smile tugged at your lips. "it's called 'the book thief'. from what i've heard, it sounds pretty good."

much to your surprise, theo seemed to wake himself up, drawing his head from your torso and instead, lightly resting his chin there. you peered down at him, a question in your eyes, but he spoke before you could.

"what's it about?" he asked, his eyes darkened in the dull light of the lamp on your bedside table. you breathed a laugh, skepticism creeping across your face.

"since when have you ever shown interest in what i read?" you inquired in return. often, you told your boyfriend about the books you were reading, and though he avidly listened, he never really asked about it much. below you, theo pursed his lips, face scrunching in what you couldn't guess the meaning of.

"since mia started giving you recommendations," came his reply after a bit of thinking. "why are you asking anyways? are you implying that i'm dumb 'cause i don't read a lot?" he sent you a sarcastically skeptical face, to which your mouth fell open to in mock surprise.

"i would never," you scoffed as if he was crazy for even thinking it. he kept that same look on his face for what felt like eternities until your hands reached out to tug the corners of his mouth into a smile. though he let you, each time you retracted your fingers, his mouth would drop back into that frown. "so difficult," you muttered with a laugh. theo tilted his head to the side.

"so?"

giving up, you dropped your hands at your sides and looked away, thinking back on your earlier interaction with your classmate and what she had said about the book. "i'm pretty sure it's about this german girl... something about her moving to a foster home 'cause her mom's on the run. takes place during the holocaust." your eyes strayed back to his own, which were intently assessing your face. you grinned. "why do you care, seriously?"

theo propped himself on his elbows, leaning up to kiss your lips. "can't care 'bout my girlfriend's life anymore, huh?" you giggled when he peppered your face with tender pecks, his lips soft and warm on your skin.

"answer the question, teddy." you poked his side, turning your head to the left so he could no longer kiss you. he sighed through his nose, leaning back again and shrugging as best as he could in his position.

"i dunno. i wanna talk to you," he uttered, and your laughter died, your smile blooming even further. you couldn't help but love him even more in those moments, your heart so full you felt it might explode inside your chest. "be part of your life more."

"you already are," you reassured, tilting your head to the side and reaching a hand out to run your fingers through his hair once more. he hummed his approval, resting his head on your torso the way he had before you had interrupted his sleepiness.

"okay. continue, please," theo stated against your clothed skin, hands gripping the hem of your shirt. you smiled.

"alright."

two weeks later.

〰️

the first thing you felt when you woke up was a chaste kiss against the skin of your forehead, shifting, and cold air. you struggled to open your eyes, still weak under the weight of sleep. theo's voice pulled you out a bit.

"gotta get to class, mi amore. i'll be back soon," he said. you hummed a small acknowledgment, not bothering to say anything more before you shifted below the sheets and faintly heard the door click open and closed.

an hour later, and you were sitting up against the headboard, yawning and stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the clock on your bedside table told you it was 8:03 am. still too early, but breakfast was calling to your empty stomach. you looked to the side, upset that theo was gone and expecting the sheets to be completely empty. they weren't.

a few inches from your thigh, was a thin, rectangular box. a present. it was wrapped up in a sort of newspaper design, tied with a red ribbon. calling to be opened. tentatively, you twisted your body, tucked your legs underneath you, and picked up the gift. it was cold and stark in your hands. not wanting to ruin the intricate paper design, you carefully unwrapped it, mind whirling to a bunch of different thoughts. today wasn't anything special. you couldn't think of a reason theo would gift you something, but then again, he did love buying you things without you even asking. was it even from theo?

your breath caught in your throat once it was all opened, a smile blooming on your lips. a copy of the book thief. it was— he even went with the color scheme to simply wrap it up. faded newspaper and red. you huffed a laugh, opening it up, and what was on the inside surprised you even more.

'turns out mia has good book taste.' he had read it? there was 525 pages in the book, and he read all of it. for you. flipping open the pages, what you found baffled you just further. he had left notes, as well, little annotations across the pages, with words like 'this made me think of you', or, 'we should do this together'.

mia had good taste, indeed.

.

doing this instead of studying 💪💪

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #katiasworks #theo nott fic #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theonottsmut #theo nott rec #theodore nott fic #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore #💼:: katiasworks

[beauregardlionett]

did i rant to my friends about dorian and orym just to be called a simp? yes i did. and i'll do it again.

these two characters? consume my waking thoughts. because just fucking think about this from a timeline/literary point of view for a second with me.

orym lost his husband and his father-in-law (who he always calls dad because he didn't have a dad growing up) in a violent attack on his leader a while ago and whatever magic was used to kill them kept them dead - no reviving magic worked to bring them back. in the space of a single attack, he lost two of the most important people in his life, and now he's a widow who still mourns and loves in equal measure even while far from home trying to save the world. he loves even though he's scared of losing again.

dorian is a runaway heir to a title he never really wanted, a musician for himself, a charlatan hiding behind an easy smile, who has really only ever wanted to see the world in his own time and make real friends for once in his life. and he did that! all on his own! he was with the group at the beginning of the campaign but then they ran into his older brother who was in trouble and needed to lay low and dorian went with him, falling back on old instincts that family by blood comes first. he ran from the group and from the foundations he was building with them. because dorian has only ever run from the things that scare him. but now he's back, re-traced his frightened footsteps toward the daunting promise of tomorrow - not yet with the group, we're getting his side of the story first. and he even said it himself, that he ran from the group and now he's not sure why he did it, why he left, when he stands here now and realizes everything he wanted was already in front of him.

they have sending stones, a once a day chance to say something to each other in 25 words or less. they've been using them, keeping each other updated on where they are, that they're still alive, and kindling this flame even without dorian at the table, without even seeing each other, and liam has been carrying this torch alone for 78 episodes but damn it the flame is still lit regardless!

and orym always updates on their progress and location first, and with whatever words he has left he drops in a sentiment to remind dorian that they still care - that orym still cares. and orym is practical through and through, he's a strategist so he always always always uses his words wisely because he's so fucking limited by this spell but the last message he sent? he repeated himself, he admitted a weakness, he faltered.

he told dorian where they were. he asked if dorian could come their way. he admitted to struggling while his voice broke. he asked again but in a different way if dorian could come their way. he ended the message with the most heartbreaking "fuck, i miss you," i have ever heard in my life.

orym, the man who messaged dorian 52 episodes ago and said "glad you're not here, wish you were anyway." because they're constantly in danger, and he wouldn't wish that on dorian, but he still aches to have him near. orym, the man who confessed 13 episodes ago during a trial with his friends that he's lonely, that he misses dorian and sometimes he thinks it's okay and sometimes he doesn't - because he was married and is still mourning and how dare he have feelings for someone else? how dare he move on even when his husband would WANT him to be happy again? he indicated dorian was missed by everyone in three of his previous messages before the trial, before finally shifting to 'I, orym, me - it's me who misses you'.

and dorian, the one who replied to a message orym sent him with "stay steadfast, sending you fairer winds" in the most longing tone i have EVER heard. dorian, who kissed orym's forehead when they parted ways but that is the closest they have come to acknowledging whatever is between them. dorian, who has been to orym's home between exu and c3 and met orym's mom and knows about orym's husband.

when orym died 58 episodes ago, he went limp and the sending stone slipped out of his hand because he was trying to message dorian before he died, before he ran out of words and breath. before he was revived, there was a moment he stood in the beyond and saw his husband and he told orym "you're not done," and orym said "i really wish i could stay," and then his husband said "i'll still be here," and orym said, heartbroken, "oh, i miss you so bad."

he told dorian, "i've really missed you," and "fuck, i miss you." i miss you is orym's way of saying i love you.

they're so close. they are so close. and orym fully died 19 episodes after dorian left, but he was revived and then never told dorian via sending that happened. part of me wants dorian to find out and the other part hopes he never has to feel like he failed orym by leaving. because nothing could have changed that from happening, not even dorian.

they are so close to reuniting, orym has needed dorian back for WEEKS and he's so close. i'm begging them to hold on so they can hold each other again.

and, again, from a literary point of view, you know the wildest part about all of this?

none of it is scripted.

#cr #critical role #dorian storm #orym of the air ashari #dorym #writing #my writing #i guess???? idk simp rant or whatever #anyway. am i making a hell of a lot of assumptions about their dynamic? yes. #will i be stopping? n o p e #this ship hasn't sailed far but i'm clinging to the steering wheel regardless #i had to get this out of my brain so i could focus on finals

[bloatedandalone04]

The Lucky Ones - Part 2

➪the one where you and rick reunite after the events at the prison.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of digging around in the undead, guns, takes place in season 5

Word Count: 3k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Judith was crying again, and no matter what Tyreese did, she didn’t seem to want to stop. “C’mon, baby girl,” he huffed, bouncing her in his arms. 

You look over from your spot on a fallen tree, your fingers tangled in Lizzie’s messy hair. It was clear that Tyreese was having a hard time calming the baby down, and while it was a bit amusing, being quiet right now was a priority. “Hey,” you call out to him. “Want me to take her?” 

“Please,”

You laugh quietly and get up, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder before making your way over to Tyreese. “Come here, sweet girl,” you coo when you take Judith from him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re alright.”

Tyreese huffed again as he moved to sit next to the small fire you had started, confused at how you managed to get Judith to stop crying within just a few seconds. “I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, poking the fire with a stick. “You had kids before all this?” 

“No,” you answer, brushing Judith’s hair away from her forehead before taking the bottle from Mika. “I was a nurse. Spent a year looking after my mom before everything went to hell. She was like a kid in a way. I used to rely on her, then suddenly she relied on me. I had to feed her, bathe her, and dress her. Never thought that would’ve prepared me for something like this.”

Tyreese grunted, setting the stick aside and looking over at you. “You’re a natural,”

You smile at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You’d been one of the many people that have been taking care of Judith since she was born, but being one of the three to do it now was something else entirely. 

When the Governor tried taking control of the prison and caused what could only be described as a riot, you were left behind with Tyreese, Mika and Lizzie. The older sister actually ended up saving both you and Tyreese when you were backed into a corner, and when you tried to convince them to go find Rick, you were outvoted. You were outvoted by a couple of fucking kids. 

So you fled with them into the trees and had been walking through the forests ever since. You would give anything to be able to be with him right now, but instead you were left looking after his kid. You didn’t mind, but you just wished you knew whether he was okay and alive or not. 

Carol took your spot on the tree and began braiding Lizzie’s hair as you hummed softly to Judith. She was beginning to fall asleep in your arms, and soon enough, Carol, Lizzie and Mika were all sleeping while Tyreese took the first watch. “You want me to take her? So you can get some sleep?” 

“No, I got her,” you mumble and move to sit next to him. 

You sit in silence for a while, with Tyreese adding sticks to the fire every so often and you gently rocking Judith. Your mind drifted back to Rick and Carl and Maggie and Glenn. Were they okay? Were they alive?

The last thing you saw was Rick getting shot in the leg then everything went to shit. Guns went off and fires were started, and you lost sight of pretty much everyone besides Tyreese. You wanted to run out to Rick, to help him, but there were just too many people and too many walkers. You didn’t stand a chance. With everything in you, you were praying to anyone who might be listening that he is still alive, and that he’s looking for you.

Like how you’re looking for him. 

You stare at the fire as you trace random shapes onto Judith’s arm with your thumb, lost in your own head. “Everything happened so fast,” you murmur, catching Tyreese’s attention. “Just a few days ago we were all safe and together. Now we don’t even know if everyone’s still alive.”

“We just have to keep looking,” he said, and you knew he was trying to comfort you, but you felt hopeless right now. 

“I wanted to go back for him,” you confess. “When we were leaving. I was going to go back, but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t find him.”

Tyreese looked over at you in surprise. “None of us could get to him,” he assured you. “Rick is strong. He’s stronger than any of us. I know he made it out, him and Carl both.”

There was no way to be sure of that, but you appreciated his words nonetheless. “I remember when I first saw him at that store back in Atlanta. Glenn can tell you that I was in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. It felt like nothing else mattered, then he found his wife and son and I was sure nothing would happen between us.”

Tyreese let out a quiet laugh, leaning back on the log and taking off his hat. “Look at you now,” he teased. “That man is head over heels for you.”

That was true. 

Not long after you broke things off with Shane, Rick and Lori began having some issues. They split up long before she found out she was pregnant with Judith, and around her three month mark was when Rick finally allowed himself to begin something with you.

That something turned into an official relationship, and you’d been almost inseparable ever since. 

He told you to stay with Daryl and Carl when the Governor and his posse showed up, but then you got separated from both of them and wound up defending Tyreese in a different part of the prison yard. 

You smile at the memory of the first kiss you shared with Rick. Then your heart twisted a bit. You missed him so much. You missed everyone. 

“Feels like forever ago,” you whisper. “I hope they’re okay. I hope he’s okay.”

Tyreese gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’ll find each other. Right now you just need to focus on looking after his little girl and worry about the rest later,”

You knew he was right, so you gave him a tight smile and nod. 

-

“What do you think Y/n is doing right now?” Carl asked as he sat on the couch next to Rick. He dug through the stale cereal bag and gathered some in his palm, tossing them into his mouth afterwards. 

“I don’t know,” Rick answered, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to think of where to go from here. The couch was pressed against the door, a safety measure he deemed necessary since the lock had been broken off it. 

His face was sore and still a bit bruised, and the days he’s spent on this couch felt like a bit of a waste when he could be out there looking for his group. Looking for you. 

“Do you think she’s by herself?” Carl continued to ask him questions about you that Rick had no idea the answers to. He was losing hope as the days went on, though a very small part of him believed that you were out there somewhere, and that maybe you or someone else had managed to grab Judith on the way out of the prison yard. 

“I don’t know,” he answered his son’s question with a stern voice, trying to tell him to be quiet without actually saying the words. 

“Do you think she made it out?”

“I don’t know, Carl,” Rick nearly yelled, causing Carl to jump slightly. Rick lowered his voice and looked back at the floor once he saw the way Carl reacted to his outburst. “I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know who she’s with and I don’t know if she made it out. Just stop asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to, please.” 

Honestly, Rick couldn’t stand the thought of you not having made it out of the prison. He left you with Daryl and Carl, and now he was with Carl with no sign of you or Daryl, and he felt lost. 

Carl had told him that he and Daryl got separated, and how he saw you with Tyreese last, but that was all the information he had. He didn’t know where you went after that, and he didn’t know if you had managed to get out of the area you had been backed into. 

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Carl mumbled, setting the bag aside and leaning back against the couch. “I’m sure we’ll see her again, we just need to start looking.” 

“Yeah,” Rick agreed, spinning his wedding band around on his finger. He had no idea why he is still wearing it, him and Lori are very much done and over with and had been for a long time now, so why was he still wearing his ring? 

He looked down at the gold band, then without a second thought, he slid it off his finger and put it in his pocket, and thankfully Carl didn’t notice him doing that. He was still mourning his mom, and still getting used to you and Rick, the last thing needed was to see his dad move on completely from her. 

“Yeah,” Rick said again. “We’ll start looking for her. We’ll start looking for all of them.” 

He couldn’t lose you. He already lost so many people, and he was still recovering from watching the nicest man he had ever met get almost decapitated. He couldn’t lose you too. 

-

When Carol gestured for you to dig around inside the walker she just put down, you didn’t hesitate like you normally would. You didn’t get grossed out or feel nauseous. How could you?

Rick might be alive. 

Michonne and Carl were definitely alive, since you heard the piece of shit Terminus guy say he was going to kill them.

They’re alive. 

You blended right in, and when Carol blew up one of the tanks littered around Terminus, you and her were able to slip in amongst the walkers. Gunfire was heard all around as the large number of walkers made their way through the poorly protected walls of Terminus, and when you found yourself in a storage room, a feeling of rage took over you. 

There were countless things in there; teddy bears, weapons, jewelry, clothes, blankets, and anything else you could imagine a defenseless person would have. Carol found Daryl’s crossbow among the weapons, and you found Rick’s watch among the jewelry. These people were sick, taking things from people who were just trying to survive with what they have. 

You were livid as you and Carol slashed and shot your way through the crowds of walkers and Terminus people, and before long you were granted the one thing you’d be wishing for ever since you and Tyreese made it out of the prison. 

Rick, Daryl, Bob and Glenn let Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Sasha and three other people you had never seen before out of a train cart, then they were fleeing to the forest. 

You were frozen in shock, tears gathered along your water lines before Carol was pulling you with her as she took off after them. You were so relieved to see that mostly everyone had made it out, and that Rick, though he was a bit bloody, is okay. 

You stumbled alongside Carol as she followed the group, and when they stopped a good distance away, you could hear Rick’s deep voice as he declared that they were going back to finish the job. 

Stopping behind some bushes, you watched the group argue for a bit before Carol stepped away from the greenery and revealed herself. Almost instantly she was wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, and you watched the reunion with burning eyes as you revealed yourself as well.

Rick opened his mouth to say something to Carol, then his gaze flickered over to you and any words he was going to say died on his tongue. Your eyes glazed over again and you froze in your spot, and the last thing you heard was the relieved sigh Daryl let out as he took both you and Carol in, then you were wrapped up in Rick’s arms. 

His grip on you was the tightest it’s ever been, and you couldn’t breathe in the best way. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cling onto any part of him you can, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the group, as well as the three new people, were witnessing you sobbing against Rick’s chest. 

You spent days with Tyreese, Carol and the girls, and after what happened with Lizzie and Mika, you were beginning to lose the little amount of hope you had left. You were terrified that the people you called your family were dead or lost somewhere. 

But here they are. Beth was missing, and though you were scared to know what happened to her, you couldn’t deny just how happy and grateful you are that you were reunited with most of them. 

“Y/n,” Rick mumbled and you held onto him tighter. “I thought you were gone.”

It sounded like those words physically pained him to say, and you shake your head before burying your face against the side of his neck. “I’m here,” you cry, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Rick pulled back and gently gripped your jaw, his eyes taking in your features as if he still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him. “You got out,” he rasped, his thumb stroking your cheek with a barely-there pressure. 

You nod, tangling your hands in his damp hair. “With Tyreese, we found Carol a few days later,” you tell him then quickly add, “Well, she found us.”

Rick smiled at your words and it was the prettiest thing you’ve seen in weeks. “You got out,” he murmured, so quiet you barely heard it. 

You just nod again and push yourself upwards. Rick meets you halfway and kisses you multiple times, making you laugh against his mouth. “I got out,” you whisper and press a few kisses to his cheek and jaw, then you are wrapped up in his arms again.

Carl makes his way over to you just as Rick reluctantly lets you go and hugs Carol, and you smile down at your boyfriend’s son, who just wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you tight. “Hey, buddy,” you greet quietly, draping your arms over his shoulders as you glance back at Rick. 

“Hey,” Carl said back, looking up at you with relieved eyes and a look you’d never seen from him. “Missed you.”

Your lips part in a silent gasp, not used to hearing those kinds of words from him. You were sure he was still a bit upset that you were with his dad instead of his mom now, but were pleasantly proven wrong as he squeezed you one last time before stepping away. “I missed you,” you’re finally able to say as Rick comes back over and pulls you into his side. “And you.”

He grinned down at you and kissed the top of your head just as the red haired man speaks up, “You guys are the luckiest sons of bitches I’ve ever met,” 

You furrow your brows as Glenn laughs, wrapping his arm around Maggie’s waist. “We’re not lucky very often,”

“Yeah, well, both you and Rick here found your better halves,” the man said and adjusted the strap on his gun. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky. It’s a miracle we got out of that damn train, too.”

“That wasn’t luck,” Daryl grunted as he looked between you and Carol, and it was then when Rick clued in.

He tightened his hold on you as he asked, “That was you two, wasn’t it?”

You shrug while Carol lets out a rare, short lived laugh. “I couldn’t lose you again,” you mumble. “Not when I hadn’t even gotten you back yet.”

Rick falls silent at that, and he locks his jaw in the way that told you he’s holding back his emotions right now. He pulls you into his arms again and kisses the top of your head, muttering, “Thank you,” once he pulls away. 

“There’s something else,” Carol says, making everyone look over at her. “But I think we should show you rather than tell you.” 

And that was how you found yourself wrapped up in Glenn’s arms once Rick finally let you go after he saw that Judith was alive and being held by Tyreese. You return your best friend’s hug as you watch Rick cry quietly, taking Judith from the man who protected her with his life for as long as you’ve been separated. 

Maggie comes over to you and hugs you as well as Carl runs over to hug his sister, and the whole thing was like something straight out of a movie as you felt a warmth take over you.

You were back with your family. They were all alive. They were okay. 

The two men share a look as Rick realizes that he had Tyreese to thank for keeping Judith safe, then Sasha is hugging her brother with tears in her eyes. You pull away from Maggie as Rick hands Judith to Carl, then you are engulfed in his embrace. “Thank you,” his voice was raspy and his breathing was uneven, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears again as he held you tight. “I thought she was gone. I thought Judith was gone.”

You hugged him back, sniffling quietly. “We had to grab her quickly, we just took what we could before getting out of there,” 

Rick pulled away and kissed you, his hands reaching up to grip either side of your face. “I love you,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much. Thank you for keeping her safe, all of you.” He glances back at Carol and Tyreese, who just nod at him, then he is focused back on you. 

“I love you,” came your hushed reply, and you leaned in to rest your head against his shoulder, finally feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

#rick grimes imagine #rick grimes imagines #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes angst #rick grimes fluff #the walking dead angst #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd imagine #twd imagines #twd #twd rick #rick grimes #twd fanfiction

[the-laughing-lunatic]

All 9 mercs w/ a reader who got them flowers! (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

(I recently got to 20 followers on this blog! :D I wanted to do a little something to celebrate that, so I grinned and wrote headcanons for all nine of the mercs. It, uh, took a while so I hope you enjoy!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Scout - Daisies☆

Legitimately starts tearing up

Tries to blame it on the flowers

“I ain’t cryin’ I- I’m just allergic to flowers.”

“Oh, sorry, I could just return them then—”

“What? You’d hafta take ‘em out of my dead hands, I’m keepin’ em.”

Isn’t a huge flower guy but the fact you went out of your way to get them for him makes him feel all warm inside

Reminds him of when his mom would pick flowers to give to him after his Little League games

☆Soldier - Poppies☆

Would aggressively compliment you

“THESE ARE DAMN BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS MAGGOT!! I FEEL IMMENSELY LOVED AND APPRECIATED!!!”

Seriously though, he does

Since he was never allowed in the military he always felt jealous of the soldiers who got special flowers

But he wasn’t now, because you respected him

And if you did, that was enough

☆Pyro - Sunflowers☆

ABSOLUTELY LOVES THEM

Well, you can’t hear what they’re saying but the flappy hands and excited noises give you a decent idea

Will just spend hours holding them in their hands and looking at the flowers like they’re the most beautiful thing in the world

Draws sunflowers in all their drawings now

If they accidentally burned them they would get so sad and give you flowers back as a form of apology

Make flower crowns with them. Do it. 

☆Demoman - Bluebells☆

Like most of the mercs, he’s never gotten flowers before 

And he has no clue how to take care of them

“Thank ye, but, would ye consider showin’ me how to take care of them?���

Help this man out

Please

He would probably put them just on a table with no vase or water without you

Y’all would put the flowers in an empty bottle of scrumpy <3

☆Heavy - Violas☆

“Little merc has present for Heavy?” 

Surprised, but not so much as Sniper

Honestly the most chill about it out of all the mercs

He has sisters so he knows how to take care of flowers but he’s never been the one to receive them

Would press the flowers once the start to wilt and make bookmarks so he can keep them forever (sap)

And if he’s more protective of you during matches, who's to say the reason why?

☆Engineer - Bluebonnets☆

He sticks to the practical side of things, so when you give him a bouquet of flowers he’s utterly perplexed

He’s flattered of course, and thanks you greatly for the gift because he’s a Texas boy raised with manners

But he’s not used to pretty things and…doesn’t quite know what to do with them

He puts them in a vase with water but he finds himself stopping his work to look at them

They didn’t solve a problem, they didn’t hold a purpose yet people–including him now–seemed to love them

Eventually gives up trying to find a reason for it and just accepts it as they’re just pretty

Even though solving questions like “what is beauty” was never his forte, he’d somehow found an answer for it

And it was…well, you.

(He’d also 100% make you a flower out of scrap metal for you bc he’s a gentleman)

☆Medic - Cornflowers/Drosera Spatulata Sundew☆

There’s two flowers that he’d like

Cornflowers are one of his favorites, specifically the white ones (they remind him of Archimedes)

Not just because they are national flowers of Germany, but he also appreciates their medicinal properties

But if you somehow got your hands on a Drosera Spatulata Sundew he’d be pocketing you for months afterwards

Is absolutely fascinated with carnivorous plants and you get him carnivorous flowers???

The most romantic (or just super cool if platonic) thing in the world to him

Isn’t a botanist but he’ll be in the medbay all the time now just observing it and its reactions

He’s not sleeping for a while

He’d try to create a serum for whatever flowers you got him so they’d stay as beautiful as they are forever :)

☆Sniper - Wildflowers☆

No one has ever gotten him flowers before so when you show up at his camper van with hand picked flowers wrapped in twine he’s surprised, to say the least

Finds it interesting how he walked past those same flowers everyday and never cared

But when you gave them to him they felt…special.

Awkwardly mumbles a ‘thanks mate’ to you

Keeps them in an (UNUSED I REPEAT UNUSED) jar in his van

Smiles everytime he sees them

☆Spy - Roses☆

We all know this man is an old-fashioned lover boy so ofc he loves roses

But he’s never on the receiving end of them

So none are ever good enough for his high standards

“Eugh, where did you buy these, the gas station?”

Similar to Scout that if you say you could return them he’d absolutely refuse

Secretly thinks it’s really sweet 

Doesn’t act any differently towards you afterwards when he’s with you

But you find multiple bouquets of roses in your room and a note that says “if you ever consider buying me flowers again, buy roses from these boutiques instead of the trash you had before.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

(Putting in all the tags is another reason why I don't normally do all nine of them holy shit)

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #scout tf2 #scout tf2 x reader #soldier tf2 #soldier tf2 x reader #pyro tf2 #pyro tf2 x reader #demoman tf2 #demoman tf2 x reader #heavy tf2 #heavy tf2 x reader #engineer tf2 #engineer tf2 x reader #medic tf2 #medic tf2 x reader #sniper tf2 #sniper tf2 x reader #spy tf2 #spy tf2 x reader #fanfiction

[rainylana]

Patty Munson

note: a potential series if you guys want it! so please, let me know your thoughts and if you like my version of eddie’s daughter, named after pat benatar!

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, single dad!eddie, and language.

Patty Munson was the exact replica of her dad. From her looks to her attitude, you knew she was the daughter of Eddie Munson. With curly, jet black hair and doe, brown eyes, she had a spit fire attitude that raised a brow with strangers.

She didn’t like her vegetables like him, either, but Eddie always made sure she ate them off her little plate. “Eat at least some of it, Patty.” He’d say.

She started cursing at four, and though Eddie tried to correct her when she’d say something inappropriate at the age of five, he always had a laugh about it when she wasn’t around.

“Look at this crazy bastard, daddy!” She had said, holding up a fish that Uncle Wayne had helped her catch. Wayne shook his head, laughing quickly behind her with a hand to her back, making sure she didn’t slip in the mud.

“Patricia.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking from a choked laugh. “What did I say about grown up words?”

She was an extremely stubborn child. She liked doing things herself, absolutely everything. She was a daredevil, another thing she’d gotten from him. She almost always threw a fit when she had to hold his hand when crossing the street. He had just began letting her get the mail down at the driveway by herself, and she was smiling widely the whole walk down there.

Her mom had left Patty to him after she’d delivered her, and Eddie hadn’t heard from her since. It was hard raising her alone, especially in the beginning, suffering from a broken heart. If it hadn’t been for Wayne and his friends, he surely would have crumbled.

She didn’t talk much about the fact she didn’t have a mom around, but Eddie knew one day she’d start asking questions. The idea of it made him sick to his stomach.

She liked her dad’s tattoos. She colored on some of them sometimes with markers. He had outlines, line work, of tattoos that “need pretty pink color, daddy.”.

When she was a baby, she pulled on his hair all the time. Never Steve’s or Nancy’s. Always dad’s. Eddie never had trouble with the terrible two’s, however three was a particular rough age. She was sick a lot then. Nothing serious, but it always seemed she had a cold or some sort of allergy. He took of work a lot during that time and lost money he didn’t have to loose, but he made it work. He quickly learned that as a parent, you somehow always found a way to manage. It was a superpower.

She was a good kid. She didn’t cry much as a baby, and when she does cry, it’s usually when she’s tired. She hates naps, but anytime she pouts and her lip pulls down, her eyes start to water and she stomps her foot, Eddie knows she’s ready to take a nap. He can almost always bribe her to lay down with reading a story to her.

Anytime she tries a new food, he always makes sure they’re at the parking lot of the hospital, paranoid you’re going to be allergic to something he’s given you. He also learned that being a parent takes years off your life. You’re scared all the time, yet you’ve never been happier. You love like you’ve never loved before. It was the most joyous, powerful thing he’d ever felt. Patty was the love of his life.

She always wants to go to work with dad. She doesn’t like school much. Yet another thing she got from Eddie. She’s good at her letters and numbers, has friends, but more often than not she’s being send home with a note about cursing in class or saying something out of turn.

Her first day of school was hard on both of them. She didn’t understand why dad couldn’t stay. He tried to make it seem like a playdate with all her friends, just a really long play date. He almost cried on the way home, hating the way she cried with her teacher when he left. It was like that everyday for the first week of school, becoming easier over time,

The first time Eddie punished her he could barely do it. He’d told her she couldn’t watch tv before bed. She’d gotten angry and cussed at him. He almost backed down, because it was his fault she learned the words anyways. But he stayed strong, though her tears tore him up on the inside, thinking that she would hate him forever. Another thing he learned, kids got over things quickly.

Patty and Eddie were best friends, two peas in a pod. They were the dictionary definition of father and daughter. He loved nothing more on planet earth than her, and he knew now, that his life finally had meaning.

#eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie headcanons #eddie munson fic #patty munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines

[kifkay]

Winx & Specialists Dynamics that are so Precious to me

it makes sense that in the show, winx and their non-boyfriend specialists don’t interact much. but!! i’m very insane about codependent found families, and I want them all to love each other. so here’s my take on some tet-a-tet dynamics:

rare pairings:

Musa & Timmy: childhood frenemies. they used to go to the same middle school on Melody, and as type-A tweens do, had an intense, “you’re the only person I match myself to” kind of rivalry. they lost contact after Timmy moved away, chilled out considerably, reconnected in Alfea and had a wonderful banter-filled friendship since. because of how fast they slotted back into a friendship, some of their classmates genuinely thought they were siblings.

Tecna & Riven: got up from a rough patch. from “I dislike you but we both love Musa, so we have to be civil” to “you have more depths to you than I expected” to “now that I understand you, I can’t help but admire certain things about you” to “bitch, you are the only person who is as weird and clueless as I am, ARE YOU READY TO GO TO THE ARCADE AND ANNIHILATE KIDS FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES”

Flora & Brandon: little sister, older brother vibes. of similar temperaments and views, they enjoy spending time over a cup of tea — talking about everything and nothing. it’s therapeutic, almost.

(no one in the group knew that Brandon and Flo were good friends. once, when the two had to team up during a mission, Bloom couldn’t even finish saying: “it would be a good opportunity for you to get to know each ot-“, before the specialist-fairy duo were re-creating the most complicated and choreographed hand shake ever. jaws were on the floor.)

Aisha & Brandon: they are sporties, and they like doing sport things together! they don’t talk aside from exchanging brief encouragements and advice while out, preferring to spend their time in companionable silence. sorta like those dads who never talk to their buddies, but somehow have the strongest and longest bonds ever?

Helia & Bloom: artist besties. Bloom drags Helia out on picnics, where they practice observational drawing (and tiktok trends that Bloom desperately wants to reenact but none of the winx are good at arts); Helia responds by taking her out to see art museums in Magix. it’s a fun dynamic of Bloom being the bubbly gold retriever, and Helia being her black cat.

Tecna & Sky: they didn’t have much of a relationship until year 4. somehow, they both got really, intensely into weaponsmithing and built a joint workshop. they found that they enjoy working alongside each other and value each other’s insights. sky goes to tecna when he needs frank, un-sugarcoated advice, and tecna accompanies sky on hikes and other spirited adventures, for “bonding activities” (because he told her she doesn’t get out of her comfort zone enough). it’s a relationship of deep mutual respect.

Sky & Stella: childhood friends. they knew each other as children and enjoyed playing together (which is how Stella also knew Brandon pre-Red Fountaine). at least, until Stella was unofficially banned from Eraklyon because shenanigans, and they lost contact. they still jokingly call each other “My Lady” and “My Lord”.

Stella & Nabu. Both are flirty and extroverted people, who enjoy the spirit of showmanship. They have a friendly rivalry going of who can fluster the villain of the week the fastest.

canon bf-gf dynamics (dating in canon, open to interpretation otherwise):

Bloom x Sky: liked each other since the first meeting; bonded over being the friend group moms. (on unrelated note: bloom gentle parents her friends, while sky goes all exasperated cig mom on his team and repeats things like: “you better go to sleep right now, or so help me Dragon I will take away your Owl pilot privileges-“)

they are not the most outwardly affectionate couple of the winx, yet they are so wordlessly devoted to each other. sky will follow bloom to the ends of all dimensions, when she gets a calling from powers as mystical as she. bloom will always believe in him and see him as his own man, unlike the many who see him only as his father’s son. they were entwined by fate, long before one had met the other; yet, there’s the trust, the respect, the faith so strong — that could have only come from friendship forged and tested by fire.

Stella and Brandon: the hottest power couple; sole reason behind 60% of all student fairies/specialists/witches queer awakening.

they banter all. the. goddamn. time. these dorks are speaking a whole different language.

they are also most comfortable in each other’s company, being able to be their genuine, less polished selves. stella and brandon are both performers bred and born, playing the roles of a noble princess and a knight. it’s nice, to have a safe reprieve from all that acting.

Aisha and Nabu. their love was one that sneaked up on them. their distance, set by their discomfort at the idea of an arranged marriage, bridged as they transitioned from being reluctant comrades to friendly rivals to unwilling friends to best friends to “if someday the moon calls you by your name, don’t be surprised — because every night I tell her about you”

Tecna and Timmy: partners in crime, ride or die, sunny faith in each other — even when the other person doesn’t believe in themself. I have a whole post about them, go read that ;)

Flora and Helia: they are so. they are. they-

icons. the most romantic couple, the one that sets the standards, the one that gives their friends advice. they are extremely attentive to each other’s needs and tender with each other’s feelings.

flora can recite helia’s poems in her sleep, and trace his drawings with her eyes closed. helia brings mielle presents every time he stops by. flora has tea with helia’s dad every other tuesday; she keeps note of every time helia and saladin are supposed to meet up, to be able to whisk helia away after and distract him from his troubles. helia knows how to care of flora’s plants, and sends her lovingly assorted gift baskets semi-regularly.

Musa and Riven. their relationship is push and pull, is joy then sorrow.

it’s all in a drag of a cigarette, in the vortex of a starless night, in the hoarse laughter. “of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you?” she’ll say and smile.

“ ‘m afraid we’re doomed, lover,” he’ll reply, faux-casually, and smile back. both of them know it’s the truth.

their relationship was not built to last, not for the lack of love or try. maybe they were too similar — both headstrong, unbending, bleeding hearts. maybe they were just different enough not to understand their hurts. nevertheless, it was not built to last — but neither of them would ever bring to regret it. love prevails, no matter in what form in comes, or something like that.

#winx club #winx headcanons #winx #winx bloom #winx brandon #winx sky #winx riven #winx flora #winx specialists #winx stella #winx aisha #musa x riven #winx helia #winx nabu #winx tecna #winx timmy #winx rewrite #flora x helia #bloom x sky #stella x brandon #aisha x nabu

[runthepockets]

I used to hang in these feminist spaces where they would (understandably) put a lot of emphasis on the wrongdoing men would do to women, the wrongdoing men would do to other men, and occassionally, the wrongdoing women would do to other women, but never the wrongdoing women would do to men. Even now I run into this a lot.

I would tell these people about all the awful stuff my mom would do to me, how shitty my ex girlfriends were, all the female bullies I had, and people just stare blankly at me and get all "well, you're a unique case" or something. Like, look, I'm no "institutional misandry is real" kinda guy, but it still stands that it's just as easy for women to look at vulnerable guys like me and take advantage of me as it is for me to take advantage of vulnerable women, even if the privilege margins aren't that wide. Women are entirely capable of twisting patriarchy to their use against dudes that they know can't fight back (think of all the male victims of sexual assault by a women who weren't taken seriously because "men always want it". In the case of me and my mom we had the whole "mini husband" thing, in the case of a lot of my ex girlfriends it was very much a classic case of emotional abuse and manipulation and in some cases false rape allegations, and if I tried to combat any of this stuff it was "he's being a misogynist" "he's slut shaming" "he's not all men'ing and speaking over women".) I mean the whole thing with a lot of radfems is that they claim to be punching up but all they really do is further dehumanize men who are at the lowest rungs of society, guys who can't fight back.

I think this stuff is worth talking about. I mean, if we're serious about putting the work in of seeing women and men as equals, that means facing the reality that there are ways in which women can manipulate patriarchal gender norms and roles for their benefit and there are ways in which men are harmed by it. Again, I think a lot of people hear this stuff (especially from a guy) and they immediately assume misogyny or bad faith readings of femininity as a whole because the well has been so poisoned now that any criticism of women by a man = female failure, but that's not true at all. The reality is I'm a straight guy who likes women and wants to get along with them and vice versa, but we can't really do that if only one of us is ever allowed to have the monopoly on talking about harmful experiences with patriarchy and gender roles and domestic violence and the harm the role of the family has on your gender. It's a two way street, feminism and masculism have to co-exist or else we're just talking in circles and blaming each other for our problems again rather than combatting the institutions that put us in these positions in the first place.

[kamaluhkhan]

COMPLICATED

LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡

♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne

i. 

in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.

which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.

it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.

"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?" 

you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response.  it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.

after another beat of silence, you take the lead.

“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”

“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.

a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.

“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”

“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.

“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests. 

almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same. 

with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.

you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:

“it’s not her.”

he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.

for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters. 

according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you. 

“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — " 

annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —

well, percy can’t help but admire you even more. 

"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”

“everything else?”

you look at percy like the answer is obvious. 

“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.” 

that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.

“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.” 

“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.” 

“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.” 

you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“what? you never told me that.” 

“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”

“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”

you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.

“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”

again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too. 

“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”

“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”

percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.

deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.

he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.

—

ii.

if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.

“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.

“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side. 

“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”

“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”

“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges. 

“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”

“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”

luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even. 

“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”

“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”

in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.

“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”

“i just want to be prepared.”

“prepared for what?”

luke hesitates. “just….the future.”

“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”

“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”

“oh my fucking gods — ”

grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults. 

when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him. 

and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles. 

lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.

that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.

then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst. 

like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods. 

“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”

luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.

“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”

you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.

and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.

“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”

grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory. 

he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.

—

iii. 

annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely. 

all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.

unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other. 

annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.

she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.

but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.

as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name. 

luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.

all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.

you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve. 

annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.

luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first. 

“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”

annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like. 

as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand. 

maybe that’s a good place to start. 

“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?" 

"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."

"would you go to school?"

you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.” 

“what about luke?”

your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."

"luke needs you."

you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask: 

“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”

and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry. 

“how did you —”

“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun. 

“well, nothing’s confirmed.”

you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”

annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.

"what's holding you back?"

“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares —  that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”

“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”

you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.

“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping." 

"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks. 

you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more. 

"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”

"oh," is all annabeth can say. 

“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."

annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it. 

before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.

luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.

when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again. 

"that sucks."

“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important." 

"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"

"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers.  "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”

“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”

the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs. 

“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”

you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight. 

"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.

annabeth hums.

"how much of that did you hear?" 

luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.

—

iv.

you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.

luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin. 

“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot. 

“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”

“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.

“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke. 

luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you. 

“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point. 

and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.

none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves. 

you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”

luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.” 

“they went alone?”

“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”

“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.” 

luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies. 

 “don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.

it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed. 

“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”

you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you. 

“nothing,” he answers instinctively. 

“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter. 

“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”

“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”

“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?” 

it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky. 

“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath  before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.

of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.

“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“noth—”

“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”

the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.

so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is. 

for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks. 

dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander. 

the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches. 

but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.

working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created. 

he did it for you, even if you won't understand.

he'd do anything for you.

so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch. 

—

v. 

in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.

gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned. 

you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm. 

“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers. 

“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”

“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”

a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for. 

“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke. 

for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him. 

and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense. 

you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through. 

“you never told me about your dad.”

ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.

you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it. 

“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.” 

you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.

“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.

“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”

“that’s….that’s different.” 

“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”

“which is?”

 you debate telling luke the truth. 

it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.

“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit. 

another pause, this time from the other side of the bed. 

“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”

you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.

“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”

“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”

in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling. 

“always so dramatic,” you tease.

deep down, you know you’re not much better.

luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.

it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t. 

truthfully, it still scares you.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”

you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.

"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."

he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.

"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?

"luke —"

"i have to sort it out on my own.”

"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”

another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything. 

eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:

"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up." 

"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."

you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.

"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."

luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more. 

"do you really mean that?"

his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away. 

“of course.” 

you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body. 

neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.

you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later. 

for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more. 

it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time. 

eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.  instinctively, you start rutting against him. 

“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong. 

luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin. 

“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”

“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”

you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”

“good girl.”

your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go. 

you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.

it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians. 

secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.

"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.

you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers." 

luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there. 

"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says: 

“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.

luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. 

as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again. 

you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.

“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you." 

in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”

sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time. 

this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep. 

you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.

with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you. 

"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?" 

all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words. 

you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.

"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop." 

you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.

"y-yes, luke."

"are you mine?"

you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.

you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.

"i'm yours," you promise.

luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.

satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours. 

it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.

the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high. 

luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.

“did you just —” 

the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.

"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."

luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.

"you’re so fucking hot."

your heart flutters. 

“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.” 

he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating. 

“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "

"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself. 

maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do. 

you want more. you need more.

"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"

"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought. 

you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.

"shit. i don't have another one.”

"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.  

you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you. 

"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"

“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."

luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:

“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?

before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face. 

"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."

you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer. 

"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings. 

luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed. 

"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”

luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."

you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours. 

made for each other.

you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too. 

“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck. 

“don’t,” you command. 

“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.

“i just want to feel you this once.”

he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet. 

luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before. 

even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.  

this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.

wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —

 “are you okay?” 

his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.

you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach. 

"i didn't hurt you, did i?"

“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”

luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.

 “you’ve never said that before.”

“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.

luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.” 

your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.

“oh, shit.…” 

you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully. 

of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.

because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job. 

“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”

luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."

"you do?" your heart resumes its beating. 

"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”

“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”

“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"

"they like the smell of begging." 

luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek. 

"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t —”

“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”

you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words. 

the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would. 

the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast. 

luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face. 

evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.

outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.

luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place." 

you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.

"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes." 

the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards. 

"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.

you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips. 

"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."

luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:

"i love you."

your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.

because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.

you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed. 

it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.

no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.

just this.

#the way this became a whole chapter....i've got wayyy too much to say i guess #i really wanted to incorporate the trio into this series a bit more and how others see luke + karma's relationship #also i forget who said it but smut as a character study....yeah <3 #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x nemesis!reader #luke castellan x you #pjo fanfic #pjo #luke castellan fanfic #saf writes

[wildpeachfarm]

See the thing is with streaming its going to die regardless, yes companies handing out less contracts is killing it further but its already dying at a fast rate? I'm not a stream hater either btw I really enjoy them but like. For example. 2020, 2021? When school was remote and I only ever worked mornings because of covid hours? I was clocked into that Philza 8hr stream DAILY. I was scheduling my classes around those streams so I could do homework while listening/watching. Went as far as to use my monthly speaking privilge to ask Phil what date British Daylight Savings began so I could keep my schedule clear. The second everything was no longer remote, and store hours went back to normal, I maybe caught 2, 3, maybe 4 streams in that year before I decided enough was enough about QSMP and I LOVE hardcore content.

From a company standpoint I can see why YT may not be interested in handing out streamer contracts anymore. Like Dreamie and a few others they're recognizing the Covid Number Boom is over- but unlike Dreamie, because theyre a corporation, they can't just "stick it out" and "recelebrate milestones". They have a "bottom line" to protect and they're not getting that same sweet sweet ad revenue from streams because of decreased viewer counts. Esp bc people don't just go back and watch vods unless there's a REAAAALLY good reason to. So no ad viewership there either. They're going to go back to relying on videos (and unfortunately probably shorts as well, I hate the tiktok-ification of every socmed site) to keep their ad revenue up, especially with the battle of ad blockers. I see more ad and monitization deals being handed out.

With streams (bc vod watching is lowkey practically nonexistant) not being in high demand bc of time constraints (happening while busy, timezones issues) the demands for videos will be higher as videos are ALWAYS readily available. Someone uploads at midnight your timezone? I mean it'll be there when you wake up, you won't have "missed" anything like you would have a livestream. Get a video schedule set out and you're GOLDEN- the first thing I do when I get home from work is check if a handful of youtubers have uploaded to put on to watch. If not, I rewatch some of my fav vids.

Also psychologically I actually think this is for the better of all CCs as a whole. Streaming, esp for some of the hourly requirements some of these ppl either HAVE to hit to get paid or WILLINGLY put themselves through (Tubbo) you have to wear your persona the ENTIRE time. You have to make sure you don't slip up that ENTIRE time. You have to be entertaining the ENTIRE time. You have to filter yourself because it's all live. To me this just sounds like what I do on a daily basis masking my audHD and that shit is so tiring and it's why I could NEVER be a streamer. If you're recording videos you can control what goes out. You don't have to wear whatever persona you decide to put on for 8hrs for a stream, you can record 3 hours of footage and then be done for the day, and that can either be one video or multiple depending on a lot of factors. Accidentally say your mom's name? Cut the clip. Bit isn't funny? Cut the clip. They will still have to actively filter themselves yes but for a much less amount of time. In the end CCs will have a lot more mind power that they're not using up to take care of themselves. I genuinely think it's psychologically better for them all.

It's unfortunate that the streaming industry is going to collapse this way. But also seeing how the communities heavily affected by streaming are more drama filled than communities w/o streaming, I'm lowkey hoping it's for the best. Pulling the plug like this imo is a mercy kill.

And now I'm gonna wash my mouth out for all that corporate speak I just used. Sorry for the manifesto. And if someone wants to put this manifesto on reddit idc just crop/block any usernames IG

I appreciate the essay-andy-ing these are interesting thoughts! I don't think the streaming scene will collapse entirely but I do think that it will become more advantageous to be a youtuber because people have found that to be the most consistent for many years as a CC rather than streams which require a lot of additional things (like you mentioned)

And I feel like we are seeing quite a few people say they're going to prioritize youtube more in the future which seems to be the beginning of that transition

I am curious if twitch will ever try to keep certain big-viewer streamers on the platform with 'kick-style' ($$$$) contracts.

#ask

[winchesterwild78]

Unexpected Hunter Pt 10

Unexpected Hunter Master List

Chapter Warnings: angst, oral sex-male receiving, violence, squint your eyes and a little smut, fluff, I think that’s it sorry if it isn’t.

A/N: Kind of a long chapter-sorry 😆, Our lovebirds are on a hunt together and things get intense. I edited this fast so please overlook any mistakes

All work is my own, don’t take it

18+ Minors DNI

*********************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the wedding and honeymoon. You and Dean had an amazing time together. The weather was perfect, you went swimming, made love as much as you could and just enjoyed being with each other. Dean loved being at the beach and you loved spending time with him. You were happy to be home though. You missed your babies and Sam.

Jack let your family and Bobby stay until you and Dean came home. They helped take care of the twins and spent time catching up with everyone. You would always be grateful to Jack for giving you and Dean time with your family. It was sad to say goodbye again, but it felt good to have them witness your wedding and see your children.

Dean jumped right into daddy duties and Sam of course kept looking for cases. Some cases you, Dean and the twins would go on, some just you and Dean would go on with Sam. The twins would stay with either Donna or Jodi. You were thankful they didn’t go all the time. Dean really wanted to keep you and the twins as far away from hunting as possible, but you told him if he was going to stay in the life then you were too.

He knew it was pointless to argue with you. Sam found a case he needed Dean to go on. You told the guys you were going too. Considering the case involved a child eating witch, you decided the twins would stay with Donna. Dean tried to convince you to stay home but you told him no. You knew now more than ever what those mothers would be going through so you were going.

Everyone packed and you loaded the twins in the car. You sat in between them and Dean and Sam sat up front. Bobby and Jodi were giggling and playing with you. You were so focused on them you didn’t notice Dean watching and smiling at you. He really loved watching you as a mom. He often said you were a natural and the twins were so lucky to have such an amazing mom.

After about an hour the twins fell asleep. You watched the countryside pass by as you stared out the window. You looked up and saw Dean looking at you in the rear view mirror. You offered him a soft smile and he gave you one back. Not too much longer and Dean was pulling into Donna’s driveway. He and Sam grabbed the twins as you got out of the car. She gave you all a hug and you carried the twins bags in the guest room. “Thank you Donna for watching them. I really felt like I needed to go on this case too. I can’t imagine the pain these mothers are feeling. I would be devastated if something happened to those two.” You said gesturing at your sleeping babies.

“You know I love when they come to visit. Aunt Donna enjoys spoiling them.” She said with a smile. “Sweetheart, we’ve got to get on the road if we’re going to be there before dark” Dean said walking in the room. You hugged Donna and gave the twins a kiss on the head. Dean gave Donna a hug and told her thank you. He walked over to the twins and stood there looking at them for a minute. His heart twinged a bit thinking about this case. He understood why it was important for you to go. He kissed the twins and then left the room.

The three of you piled in the car. Sam insisted you ride shotgun and you were happy to do it. Any excuse to be close to your husband. You sat in the middle next to Dean who had one hand on the wheel and the other draped behind you. He pulled you close to his side. You would never get tired of being close to him. You loved everything about him, especially his heart.

You didn’t know a lot about his childhood but what you did broke your heart. He had to be mom and dad to Sam and he shouldered everything. He wanted Sam to have as much of a normal childhood as possible and would often intervene in John and Sam’s arguments. He desperately needed someone to take care of him but it was hard for him to let anyone in. He felt like he always had to be the giver and would feel selfish if he took anything or enjoyed anything. You understood this was why he tried to push you away when you first fell in love.

You laid your head on his shoulder and teased him with your hand on his thigh. You’d giggle and move your hand up closer to his bulge. He’d suck air in and give you a look. Sam had fallen asleep in the backseat so you took the opportunity to tease your husband a little more. You looked back at Sam and saw he was out cold and had his earbuds in.

Once you saw he was asleep and couldn’t hear you decided to be extra naughty. You got a mischievous grin on your face and your hands found Dean’s belt. You unhooked it and Dean looked at you. “What are you doing sweetheart” he asked with a grin. “Oh nothing. Just having some fun. Passing the time” you smirked. He looked back and saw Sam was asleep so he adjusted in the seat. You pulled down his pants just enough to release his already hard cock.

You leaned over and licked his shaft from the base to the tip. Once you were at the tip you took it all in your mouth. Taking your tongue and swirling it up and down his shaft. Dean took his hand and gently pushed your head back and forth on his cock. You sucked hard and deep. He was groaning and trying to focus on the road. He growled as you sucked and licked him. Getting faster you could hear his breath hitching. “Oh god. I’m going to cum sweetheart. Don’t stop” Dean said moving his hips. You picked up the pace as you sucked him deeper down your throat. You knew you were loud but you didn’t care. “Ugh…god…. I’m….” Was all Dean could say before he released his load down your throat. You licked up every last drop.

When you sat up you helped get him dressed and leaned in to kiss him. “God I love you. You didn’t have to do that” he said kissing you again. “I know I didn’t. I wanted to. I love you too Dean” you said sitting back in the seat.

You held Dean’s hand as he drove on towards the destination. As you got closer your mind kept drifting to the twins. What would you do if something happened to them? Are they really safe with you and Dean in this life? What about when they get older, are we really raising them to be hunters? You were consumed with these thoughts when Dean noticed you looked upset. “Hey y/n, are you okay” he asked looking over at you. “Yeah, just thinking about the future and our children. I guess we never got a chance to talk about what their future will look like and how we would handle hunting. It’s just this case. It’s hitting me hard now that I’m a mom.” You said looking out the window. A tear slipped out and you quickly wiped it away. You didn’t think Dean saw it but he did.

Dean took your hand and squeezed it. “Baby, we don’t have to do this. We can leave the life and have that apple pie life we’ve talked about. Raise the twins to play not to hunt. With Jack up there and looking over us I know we would be okay.” Dean said smiling at you.

“I know that babe. I just worry about who would help the mothers and fathers who are missing their children because some monster took them or worse. Right now I’m capable of helping them and reunite their families. How can I turn my back on that, but then I look at our children and I would walk through hell to keep them safe and have a normal childhood. I don’t want them to ever have to grow up too fast or have to raise each other because you and I were killed on a hunt. Dean, I don’t know what the right answer is and it kills me.” You said as your tears started to fall.

“Shhhh, it’s okay sweetheart. We don’t have to make a decision right now. We are doing just fine and the kids are happy, healthy and safe. You make sure of that.” Dean said holding you close. You just leaned against him and cried. He held you as he drove. He sighed when he finally saw the hotel come into view.

Sam climbed out and got two rooms. Dean grabbed the bags and you went to your room. You called Donna to check on the twins and she said they were playing and have a blast. You thanked her again and hung up. Dean came into the room with the bags and set them down. He hugged you tight and gave you a gentle kiss. “We’ll figure it out baby. I promise. No matter what we decide we will decide it together. I made a promise to you and our children to always protect you and no matter what that looks like I’m going to do it. I love you and our children so much and I’ll stop at nothing to keep you all safe.” Dean said hugging you.

Sam knocked on the door and Dean told him to come in. The three of you sat looking over the lore and getting right to work on the case. Sam and Dean decided to head to the police station and you gathered more information about the missing children. The child who went missing first was a little girl about 18 months old. She was at the park with her babysitter when she was taken.

You decided to head to the park to look for clues. Dean met you there and the both of you went to talk to her mother. She welcomed you both in and she looked exhausted. You knew she hadn’t slept and your heart broke for her. She showed you a picture of her daughter and your heart stopped. Her daughter had dirty blond hair and bright green eyes like your Jodi. You took her hand and said “I promise you I will stop at nothing to bring your baby girl back to you.” She smiled at you, hugged you and told you thank you.

Her daughter was close in age to your children and your mama instincts kicked in. You thanked her for her time and you and Dean left. When you got to the car Dean opened the door for you and you climbed in. Once inside you just cried. You thought about her empty arms and how you would be devastated if something happened to the twins. You really didn’t know how she was functioning. Dean climbed in and put his arms around you. “I know baby. It’s going to be okay. We will find them.” He said trying to calm you down.

When you two got back to the hotel Sam was there looking over the lore and the case files. You sat down with tears still staining your face and opened the files. You were determined to get these children home safely. Sam looked at you then up at Dean. Dean offered him a soft smile. Sam knew you had been crying but Dean’s smile assured him you’d be okay.

You poured over the files and you realized this had been happening in this area for decades. You were able to trace it back to colonial times. Digging deeper you found a connection.

“Guys, this witch is targeting specific families and their children. It’s been going on for generations. She must have a vendetta against them. That’s the only thing that makes sense.” You said looking between Sam and Dean. A few minutes later “Oh my god.” You said. “What” both guys said. “She leaves one child alive as a warning of what’s coming. The last child left alive should be about 50 now. Her name is Josephine Miller. We need to go talk to her.” You said. Sam and Dean agreed. Sam put his hand on your shoulder “great job Y/N. You’ve always been an amazing hunter” he said. You nodded and smiled.

The three of you got your FBI clothes on and headed for the car. Before you got in Dean kissed you. He knew you were anxious so he wanted to help calm you. His kiss and touch always seemed to help ground you. The three of you drove to Ms Miller’s house. You got out and approached her home.

Before you could knock an older woman opened the door. You gave her a soft smile and introduced yourself and the guys. She looked suspicious and said “you’re not FBI, you’re hunters.” You, Sam and Dean exchanged looks. She stepped to the side and let you guys in. You all took a seat and you asked her how she knew the three of you were hunters. She explained when she was taken a really nice man came and saved her and had told her parents he was a hunter that hunted monsters. He was mad the witch got away but he was happy she was safe. She smiled and said “when the witch got away I remember he yelled “balls” and I giggled because I had never heard language like that before.” You looked at Sam and Dean and smiled. Bobby had been on this case before.

The four of you sat and talked about what she remembered about the witch. She said she remembered the witch would feed her and the other kids. If the kids cried too much or didn’t eat for her, she turned them into statues for her garden. You asked her if she remembered why she let her go and she said all the witch kept saying was “I looked like her”. She said she never understood what that meant. “May I see a picture of you from around the time you were taken” you asked her. Sam and Dean looked at you confused and then at each other. You gasped when you saw the picture. She had dirty blonde hair and green eyes. “Do you remember where she took you” Dean asked.

“Yeah it’s not that far in the woods. Right off the highway behind Miller’s Country Store. My parents owned it, now my brother and his family run it.” She said. The three of you thanked her for her time and left. She stopped you and told you to be careful. “That witch is nasty. She’s after the founding families of this town. Her daughter was accidentally killed by them. They were trying to go after the witch and she got caught in the crossfire. The witch has taken a child from each generation since.” You thanked her and left.

When you got back to the hotel the three of you changed. Dean was trying to be flirty but your mind kept thinking about the case, the missing children, the witch’s child and your twins. Dean looked at you and said something you didn’t hear. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay” he asked walking up to you. “Yeah. This case is just getting to me. Ms Miller told me the witch is targeting the founding families because they killed her child. It makes me sad, but she’s still hurting children. I’m torn as a mother and as a hunter. If someone hurt our children I’d stop at nothing to make them suffer, but I wouldn’t hurt another child. I just want to find her and get this over with. I want to be home with our children. I know they are safe with Donna, but I’d feel better holding them.” You said sitting on the bed. “I know. Sammy is getting the location for us now so we don’t go in blind.” He gets up and pulls you off the bed wrapping his arms around you. “It’ll be okay y/n, I promise. We will get the kids back to their parents and take care of the witch. Before we know it we will be back home holding our babies close.” Dean said kissing the top of your head.

Sam walked in and said he found the house. Y’all geared up and took off towards the witch’s house. The three of you approached quietly and you could hear a baby crying for their mother. You looked at Dean and before he could stop you, you burst through the front door. Sam and Dean exchanged looks and ran after you. You startled the witch and she was about to throw you into the wall but she stopped. Sam and Dean burst through the open doorway and she flung them into the opposite wall. Pinning them to it. All they could do was stand there and watch her make her way over towards you.

“Mmmm you smell delicious” she hissed at you. “Let the children go. I know what happened to your baby. It was an accident. They didn’t mean to kill her. Please, let these children go home to their mothers’ empty arms.” You pleaded as tears filled your eyes. The baby you heard crying was in the corner crying and calling out “mama”. Your heart broke. The witch stepped closer to you and took a long sniff up your neck. Dean became enraged and tried to break free. She grabbed your face and licked your cheek. You turned away in disgust. “Don’t you touch her you bitch.” Dean yelled from across the room. The witch flung her hand towards him and he couldn’t talk. She cackled and turned back to you.

“Now, why do you taste and smell so good” she asked. She circled around you and looked you up and down. “Ah yes. You’ve had a child, no wait (sniffs again) ooh two delicious children. I can still taste and smell them on you.” She said. It sent a shiver down your spine. A single tear fell from your eye. You looked over at the baby. She was barely crying now. Poor baby was exhausted.

You looked at the witch and then over at Sam and Dean. You mouthed “I love you” to Dean. His eyes went wide and he shook his head wildly no. Sam shouted No. It was too late. You took all your strength and lunged at the witch. Knocking her back and off her feet you had her pinned to the ground. You held her hands down and grabbed your knife you kept in your boot. Plunging it into her chest. This knife was a little gift from Rowena. It had a powerful spell on it that allowed you to kill all sorts of monsters, including witches. Once you plunged the knife in she screamed in pain and the boys dropped to the floor. Dean ran over to you and Sam ran over to the baby. Dean grabbed you hugging and kissing you while he was yelling at you for doing something that could have gotten you killed.

You saw Sam with the baby and you ran over to him taking her carefully. She was still breathing and was okay.

Dean and Sam burned the witch’s body and searched for any survivors. They found the other missing children in the basement and they were all okay. You carried the baby outside and climbed into the Impala. Dean called the local police to come out and get the children you found. Dean climbed in the front and Sam in the back. You looked at Dean and said “let’s take her to her mom”. He smiled at you and drove towards her house.

When you pulled up you were carrying the sleeping baby girl and her mother opened the door and gasped. She ran to you and you handed her the sweet baby girl. She cried and thanked you for bringing her baby safely home. She hugged you and both of you cried. The baby woke up and saw her mother and cried “mama”. You, Dean and Sam walked away and left them alone.

Once back at the hotel you collapsed on the bed. Dean climbed in next to you and snuggled up to you. “You did amazing today baby. You scared the hell out of me, but you went with your gut and took her down. Those mothers have their children back tonight because of you and what you did.” He kissed your lips and pulled you tight.

“Thank you, Dean. I don’t know what the future holds for us and hunting, but I know we will figure it out together. I love you and I’m sorry I scared you. All I could think about was what if that was Bobby or Jodi in there. I’d want someone not to hesitate to get to them.” You said as you kissed him.

You both took a shower and cleaned off the grime from the day. Once in your comfy clothes you snuggled under the blanket with Dean. He kissed you softly and ran his hands through your hair. You moaned into his mouth. His movements were slow and gentle. Dean knew you needed him but you also needed tonight to be able connection and not rushed. He slowly ran his hands over your body and removed your clothes. You helped remove his and you slowly ran your hands on his chest and over his strong arms.

He captured your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. As he made love to you his strong arms held you tight. You felt safe and content in his arms. Dean was an incredible lover, but it was something different when he made love to you. He had a hard time telling you how much he loved you, but when he made love to you he showed you. When you were done and cleaned up he took you in his arms and held you as you both drifted off to sleep. You couldn’t wait to get home to your babies, but tonight you had your husband and that’s all you needed right now.

Forever tags: @nescaveckdaily @nescaveckwriter @kr804573 @jensengirl83 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373

#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #dean x reader #dean winchester #spn #dean winchester smut

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.110 Dreamers

After that deeply emotional moment, we stood there briefly, holding hands like we held onto hope. Out of nowhere, her voice pierced the silence, asking if we could do some more product testing. It was so random and unexpected. All I could do was laugh, and it felt so good. Woohoo was honestly the furthest thing on my mind, but I would never turn her down.

That was one of the most amazing nights we ever had. I think we were both eager and determined to make something happen. Things got a little rough; it was so hot. We woke up the next morning, smiling and smirking, confident we had been successful. I mean, with all that we did, how could a baby not be floating around in there?

But that was a worry for another time. We needed a break from stressing about this baby, and since we weren't able to go to the lake last time, I thought we'd try again. But first, we stopped at our house. I wanted to see it again and make sure it was still available. This time, we walked around the property and peeked in all the windows to get a sense of the house and envision ourselves in it. We even climbed the trellis to the master bedroom balcony.

"I wish we could see the smaller rooms," Sophia said. "I've been thinking about how to decorate the nursery."

"Oh yeah?"

"I don't want to wait until we find out the gender to decorate. I want the whole house done at the same time. And I don't want pink or blue either."

"So gender neutrals? Yellow? Green?"

"Nah, let's go neutral neutral. Shades of beige, wood tones, and a little white."

"Whatever you want is fine with me. This is not my area."

She frowned.

"But you're gonna try, right? I don't want to decorate this entire house by myself."

"Yeah of course! I just meant I don't have style preferences and things, so if you do, I'm cool with it. It was fun shopping with my parents...minus my mom being extra. Can't wait to do it with you."

Her smiled returned, and the entire conversation excited me way more than I expected. Finally, we were in a place where moving into this house would be a reality and not just a dream. A warm energy spread across my body and I couldn't help but shout.

"It's finally happening, Sophia! This is our house!!"

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar

[differentdragonpeanutknight]

The Character of Cole in my Ninjago AU

So, about Cole...

His father, Lou, is both a dancer and singer, while his mother, Lilly... is a explorer, if he's not mistaken. She always travels for long periods of days, but she's always well-welcomed when she gets home.

Cole's father is a nice man, but his mom is really the one more connected to Cole. He always looks forward for anything they are going to do together. Of course, all they do is as a family, the three of them together.

Then, his mom suddenly got really sick. No one could understand what happened. She was always so vivid, so healthy... How did happened? Cole was completely devastaded.

Then she couldn't take it anymore. His mom was dead. And it was like a part of himself died with her that day. He didn't know how to live without.

But to his father, it looked like simple enough. He kept singing, he kept dancing. Now more than ever. Cole don't understands why he would do such things. The love of his life just died, and instead of being sad, his father doubled down on his performances.

He almost didn't take care of Cole anymore. Cole had to become the adult of their life. He learned how to cook (barely), he learned to play bills, he learned that life wasn't sunshine and rainbows.

Noticing that Cole was still griefing, Lou decided that the best he could deal with that was sending his son to the Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts, a place where Cole could follow his father's footsteps.

Cole hated that place. He liked singing and dancing, but he wasn't that good at it, and he knew he was never going to be as good as his father. So one day he just ran away. He became a loner in the world, trying to fit something at the hole his mother left behind on his life.

Then, one day, he met Wu. He didn't expected that everything in his life would change after that. He became part of a team, he was the one leading them, showing the way, being the responsible one. He knew how to be all of that. And his friends like him and admire him for that. Cole knows that he is in a better place. A place he can once again call home.

Maybe the only bad side of this is that he puts a lot on his shoulders, even blaming himself alone when something goes wrong. After all, he HAS to be reliable, he HAS to be strong, he HAS to be a wall.

He just hopes that one day his parents can forgive him for not meeting their expectations, nor their legacies...

#ninjago #ninjago cole #ninjago jay #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya #ninjago zane #kai ninjago #jay walker #lloyd garmadon #nya smith #cole brookstone #cole is my favorite #i guess you can see it #best character

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

#this is true #writeblr #warm up #relatedly for some reason one of our Favorite Jokes #amongst the Siblings #is like - ''this is so good u will love it'' #while we are reacting to something we OBVIOUSLY find viscerally disgusting #like we will be actively retching and be like ''nooooo it's so good'' #to the point that i sometimes get nervous if someone outside my family is like oh u should try it its good #(obvi we never force each other to eat anything. we are all just curious birds and #like. we're GONNA try the new thing.) #edit to answer why we had so much vanilla: #my mom is a very good cook and we LOVE to bake. so she just had a lot of staples in the house. #it's one of those things that's like. have u ever continuously thought ''ah i should get butter im probably out'' #even tho u are not out of butter. so u end up with like 5 years of butter. #my mom would do that in a costco but like with vanilla extract #to be fair we WERE always using WAY TOO MUCH bc we were kids #so like she was right to stock up #ps. yes we were VERY sick after this lol i just didn't want to include it in the post in case ppl had an ick about that #u can tell it's real bc we knew "oh no we fucked up that's too much vanilla to waste'' but our reaction was to just. keep drinking it #> sibling understanding that vanilla extract isn't free > knowledge mother doesnt mind if we use it for milkshakes #> sibling choice to maybe get in a loophole of ''not wasting it'' if we drink it bc that's the same as using it (not throwing it out) #listen bud i was like 13 and my sister was like 9 #when my mom discovered this we. got in. A LOT. of trouble. a lot of it. a LOT of it. #3rd edit bc i guess it isn't clear - i am 1 of my brother's 2 little sisters #i am the middle child #out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

#its sort of funny. i think my medication is working pretty well. i feel stable in a way i never really have before #is it the dopamine stablizer or is it my ion channels? whos to say. it doesn't matter. but it also doesnt change some things #the ways i think and react negativly to change. but it makes it easier to deal with. i still experience this strange dispaire on the #weekends or anytime im not working. i think the oddest thing is thst i dont think ive ever been this consistenly sad #not in a depressed sort of way. just a passing thoughts make me tear up sort of way. it doesnt feel out of control. it just feels like a #prelude to grief i guess. bc my mum is still in the hospital and its so hard to kno what that means from halfway across the country #my sisters are both home right now. they both live within 3hrs of where we grew up. one sister lives in the city my mom goes to for #treatment. so they have the opportunity to see her more than me. i dunno if they do tho. we dont really talk. i dont kno if they're as sad #as i am. if im overreacting bc i cant physically see what's happening. what the feeling is in the room. not that she would probably complain #shes the suffer in silence type. my dad keeps texting us pics of our shitty lil sunroom that hes redoing #to make my mum a lil sanctuary. he must be sad too. its his wife. hes staying with her in the hospital rn. i dunno its so weird #when i talk to my counselor she assumes i find out info thru calls or talk to my sisters abt it and i gotta b like nah we dont really talk #i get my info thru text. i havent talked to my parents on the phone in like a month. i dunno we just dont talk. so i dont kno how to reach #out and be like yo so whats up? shoulf i plan on coming home this summer for a bit?? like??? #this is the disadvantage of leaving thr place where you grew up. probably when i finish my phd i should move closer to home #somewhere in the Appalachian mountains maybe. somewere in the eastern deciduous forrest. somewhere with thunderstorms. #but thats years from now. who knows what ill b doing. for now im just sad and tired and i dont quite kno what to do in the short or long #term bc im feeling the weight of my mental limitations rather intensely. but maybe im just being self limiting #whatever. i dont have a dead mum yet. shes not even on hospice care. things are just uncertain and dont look so hot #i just dont see how it can get better from here when chemo gave her secondary blood cancer and shes still full of tumors #i dont think im being that dramatic. it just objectively seems not great for survival #unrelated