#redwood classics

[hunkydorynagoya]

【REDWOOD CLASSICS】POLAR CREWNECK SWEAT

【REDWOOD CLASSICS（レッドウッド・クラシックス）】は、1978年にカナダ・トロントで創業された『WS & COMPANY』が2007年にスタートしたファクトリーブランド。伝統的な製法と最先端の技術を駆使して作られるアイテムはクオリティーが高く、ラルフローレンやJ.CREWなどの有名ブランドの生産を請け負ったことでも知られています。 20オンスの厚手で丈夫なボディーにピグメント加工を施してヴィンテージ風の風合いを表現したクルーネックスウェット。程よくボリューム感のあるシルエットやゆったりとしたサイジングなど、昔ながらのインポートブランドのスウェットというイメージがピッタリです。『Made in CANADA』で作られるボディーはなんと20オンス！のしっかりボディーで、厚みがあってデイリーにガシガシ着るのに丁度良い作りです。また、肩や脇下などは4本針フラットシーマで縫製しており、耐久性だけでなく肌触りも考えられた拘りの一着ですよ。着るほどに体に馴染んで更に風合いの変化も楽しめます。 C社のリバースウィーブスウェットにちょっと飽きてきたけど、インポートブランドの粗野な感じが好きという方にお勧めなレッドウッド・クラシックスのスウェット。全ての工程を自社工場で行うため、他のブランドに比べてリーズナブルなのも魅力のひとつ。新品ですが何処か懐かしさも感じられるイマの気分にピッタリな一着です。是非、この機会にお試しください。

お問い合わせはお気軽にメール、またはお電話下さい。

オンラインストアも是非ご覧ください。 HUNKY DORY NAGOYA | ハンキードリー名古屋店 〒460-0011　愛知県名古屋市中区大須3-13-9 アンドール大須1F-D Map Tel:[phone] e-mail:[email protected] Open:12:00-19:00（水曜定休）

#redwood classics

[saltandstone-vis]

Gorgeous green and earthy tones of the Otways, Victoria 🌲🍃

#australia #nature #photography #summer #fujifilm x100v #Otways #Victoria #Melbourne #film recipes #classic chrome #filmsimulation #portra 400 #waterfalls #National park #rainforest #Hopetoun falls #California redwoods

[alanblindowlwilson]

Please consider making a donation for Alan to Save the Redwoods League today for Giving Tuesday! 💚🦉🌲

#alan wilson #blind owl #alan blind owl wilson #canned heat #blues #classic rock #27 club #save the redwoods #redwoods #coastal redwood #environmetalists

[originalgravity]

#santa cruz mountains #santa cruz #california #central california #summer #sunshine #west #western #classic movies #classic hollywood #classic movie posters #psychadelic #classic 80’s movies #santa carla #santa cruz boardwalk #nature #redwood #redwood tree #redwood trees #redwood forest

[disappointedbrandnewfans]

Traditional Wine Cellar - Wine Cellar a sizable and elegant wine cellar photo

#double entry doors #rustic wood #classic design #wrought iron #wine refrigerator #wine room #redwood

[redwoodrroad]

ok OTHER than Time what is your favorite 80s ELO album and why

oh ! well hm i’m not sure if Xanadu counts since while the music was done by ELO, i don’t know if i consider it like an ELO album the same way as i would consider their mainline albums as ELO Albums, right, but barring that, i would say Xanadu! but i also really love Secret Messages a LOT. i used to have the tracklist memorized to the point where if i heard one song come on randomly, especially out of the first five or six tracks, i would practically hear the next track as it fades out 😂 something that also happens with Time and even some non-ELO albums that i just obsessively listen to!

#to be honest though i think the 70s albums have more of my favorites! #eldorado is my second favorite to time #and discovery after that #but out of the blue and all across the universe are such classics i love all those songs #AND i really love no answer for how weird some of those songs are LOL #mr. radio is like a quiet obsession for me #GOD and ive been listening to fire on high from face the music a lot #face the music is ANOTHER one i used to obsessively listen to over and over #sadly though i cant listen to waterfall much anymore :( i made myself too sad about it in high school #one day….. i’ll return to you waterfall #elo #anonymous #redwoods words #thank you so much for asking!! 🥰

[yugioh-network]

Racks (Phoenix)

#Example of a mid-sized classic porcelain tile and beige floor wine cellar design with storage racks wine cellar construction #custom wine cellar builder #redwood #wine racks cellars #climate controlled

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.

warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.

And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.

Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.

He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.

"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.

You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."

"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.

"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.

"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"

With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.

He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.

The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.

"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.

Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.

With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."

Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.

The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.

"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.

As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.

But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.

You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."

“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.

The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.

You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.

"We'll take them" you declared.

The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.

As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.

Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.

"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."

Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.

The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.

A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.

"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.

Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.

The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.

Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.

Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.

One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.

"Hilarious" he remarked.

Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.

The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.

The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.

As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.

Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.

Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.

There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.

He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.

“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."

Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.

"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."

You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.

Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. He mean. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"

You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.

Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."

“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.

You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."

Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.

Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.

"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"

"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.

A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.

Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.

Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.

A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.

“Seriously!?”

There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.

You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.

Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"

His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.

"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."

The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?

You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.

"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.

A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.

"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.

The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."

Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.

You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.

"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."

Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.

A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.

"Are you a virgin, Luke?"

The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.

"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.

Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.

His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.

He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.

You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.

"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.

Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.

"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.

The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…

"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”

Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?

Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?

But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.

"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. With surprising ease, you began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.

"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.

Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.

Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.

But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.

You know, the classic shit.

But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.

So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.

But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.

He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.

You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.

“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.

He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.

You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.

He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.

All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.

He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?

He had to thank the gods for his luck.

“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.

He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”

Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.

“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.

You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.

“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”

Now that was new.

If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.

“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.

“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”

He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.

The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.

In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.

It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.

Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.

“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”

“What do you think?”

part two <3

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo smut #luke castellan x female reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan imagines

[cannibalcaprine]

in the far-flung future, gene editing will be considered an art form, like sculpture or music

skyscrapers are not built, but grown from redwood saplings. crab-like grubs run people and goods from place to place on specially grown rails, not trains. chittering birds fill cities with the sounds of classical music, jazz, and whatever's on the radio. computers forged from human brain tissue run billions of equations per second, solving hundreds of eternally vexing problems in mathematics, physics, and astronomy.

when you walk down the street, you see people with orange-plumaged wings, cat ears and tails, bioluminescent spots, tentacles, extra arms, decorative horns and antlers and antennae. gender is dead, the idea of assigned sex even moreso. some abscond from civilization altogether, roaming forests where their ancestors may have killed off the wildlife. a dragon-headed waiter flambes a couple with matching moth wings' desert with his own fiery breath.

data can be stored in insect larvae, or beehives. people may ride to work on giant salamanders or horses with eight legs. it is peaceful

mankind is exploring the stars with spaceships crafted from nautiluses. Mars and Venus are lush with life created for their own biospheres. grade-schoolers learn this art by giving frogs wings, or many eyes. look out at the managerie tilling the fields, herding the sheep. they were all once human, but are now something beyond that.

someone's learned to run DOOM on a cuttlefish

#for later

[soulless-computerbug]

Toby:

Oak, birch, aspen trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves, the rush of the north wind. Babbling brooks and creeks, a trout jumping and splashing on the surface. Campfires, woodsmoke, ash and dust rising from a glowing plume into the starry night. Bonfires. House fires. Dumpster fires in the cold icy streets. Car exhaust and drunk drivers on empty lonely highways, flat energy drinks in the cup holders. The sound of splitting wood, cracking ice, falling stone. Granite sparkling in the dusk light. Icy cold fingertips pressed against your palm, nails gently biting your skin.

Kate:

Stale cigarette smell in old musty carpet. The clack of billiard balls against each other, quiet chatter and laughter, low blues music crackling through old speakers. Blues, classic rock, hard rock, headbanging to old punk music in the car with your friends, parked in the lot after a highschool game. Smiling so wide your cheeks ache. Pounding throbbing feet on concrete, the rough grooves of brick and mortar under your nails. The chokehold of terror in your chest, the moon through douglas firs and redwood trees. February breeze at 3am, cold air seeping under your jacket, the flannels of your pants. Cold fingers, cold toes, steaming hot water that stings like pure bliss. The taste of medicine that follows the ringing of an alarm.

Cody:

Larks and robins at 5am. The smell of black coffee and old books, the rustle of papers and shuffle of feet. Linoleum tile under leather doc marten soles. Rye grass and blue river water, stormy gray skies. The thwap of latex gloves against your wrist like a second skin. Bubbling, fizzing, foaming, colors shifting from green to gray to blue to orange. Apple slices as you scratch note after note onto old notebook paper. Losing your voice after screaming for hours, dull migraines and illusory palinopsia. Lyssavirus, crutzfeldt-jakobs disease, marburgvirus, all neatly labeled in perfect little vials. Lying in wait.

#creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #kate the chaser #kate millens #cody mccaffrey #x virus #my posts #scb stuff #my writing #liam mccaffrey

[epithet-beloved]

Could we get some parental Percy and Ramsey? If not that’s fine

PARENTAL PERCY + RAMSEY HEADCANONS

synopsis… Percy and Ramsey as your parents

ft. Percival “Percy” King, Ramsey Murdoch, Howie Honeyglow (mentioned), Meryl Lockhart (mentioned), Sergeant Eros (mentioned)

tags… parental imagine, Percy and Ramsey’s relationship is unspecified, goofy family shenanigans, some anime campaign references but no spoilers, relationship study

word count… 702

a/n… I FINALLY GOT MY WRITING SPOONS BACK BAYBEYYYYYY. Apologies for the long hiatus, but I hope you all enjoy these imagines! ✧ 🦄

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Even if Ramsey is your actual father, he still gets treated at least a little bit like a weird uncle that the rest of the family doesn’t want you associating with.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite some general banter, Percy trusts Ramsey with your care quite a lot after he helped her in Redwood Run, and is always fair and never presumptuous. She has quite a few ground rules, some of them a bit odd, but never unfair.

“Uhhh….Percy?” Ramsey’s confusion was met by the policewoman’s polite smile.

“Yes? Is there something you’d like to ask me about the rules?”

A nod. “Just one thing.” Despite the fact that she couldn’t see what he was pointing to, the Australian pointed to one of the lines with his index finger. “I think ‘no crayons of debauchery’ is a bit unnecessary.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Your time between the two is divvied up almost perfectly evenly, as expected of Percy’s scheduling. Sometimes, Ramsey can even go somewhere with you as long as an officer (typically Percy) accompanies you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 On occasion, you’ll also get ‘babysat’ by Meryl or Sergeant Eros when both your parents are unavailable. Meryl can be a bit…jumpy, but typically well meaning. And Eros will let you ride shotgun if he takes you to work with him (given that the work is appropriate and something you can tag along for).

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Ramsey makes drawings of your OCs and Percy hangs them on her fridge. It’s kind of comical to see your fursona or the like hung up in her otherwise rather plain kitchen, but it’s also a sweet reminder of how she’s invested in your interests.

“I must admit, I am curious.” You perked your head up at the sound of your mother’s voice, watching as she admired one of the papers hung up with a magnet on her fridge. When she was done examining the drawing like it was some sort of specimen, she’d stand up to her full height and look your way. “Why am I drawn as a beaver in this picture?”

“Oh,” you explained between bites of food, “I always thought if you were an animal, that’s what you’d be, because you make all kinds of buildings when you’re working.”

This answer seemed to leave her pleased, almost glowing in response to your perception of her. With a hand over her heart, she spoke in a calm voice. “Ah, the beaver. Truly an industrious creature. Nature’s architect, presiding over the flowing waters, arbiting their path….”

….Well, that probably meant she was happy about the fursona you came up for her.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 I wouldn’t call Percy overprotective per se, but she is very cautious. Like if you want to ride a bike, she’ll make sure you have a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, shoulder pads….overall, just makes sure to take all possible safety measures in a situation. She’ll never stop you from doing something you want to do within reason, she’ll just make sure she’s there to keep an eye on you.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 You’ve also likely met Howie once or twice because he’s a good friend (slash business rival) of Percy’s. He gave you a honeyed snack once. It tasted good, but the texture is…..questionable.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Despite Percy being classic lawful good, Ramsey can actually be the more reasonable one, aka having more common sense in a situation. Sometimes, parent-child bonding is just being surrounded by wackiness while both expressing complete and utter exasperation.

“Hey dad, do you know what is happening right now at all?” You loved your mother to death, but her idea of a ‘fun activity’ could often be rather strange. Like now, where she was currently trying to enforce road safety laws to the Mario Kart CPUs. While losing.

All the man could do was shake his head and crack a grin. “Eh, just roll with it, kiddo. You get used to it after a while.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They both give headpats, but Percy’s are a sort of stiff “pat pat” while Ramsey’s is more of a noogie that messes up your hair. You don’t have the heart to say either one is better than the other, though.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 They’re both wonderful, really. Both a little weird, but that’s part of what makes your family so great.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 request ! #🦄's writings #epithet erased imagines #epithet erased #epithet erased x reader #ramsey murdoch imagines #Ramsey Murdoch #percival king #Percival king imagines #familial imagines

[habaaa]

I don't know if it's a good time, but I wanna share some things I've found about Franklin, they're so interesting and overall chill like him.

Disclaimer: These are official! You can search more at gta.fandom.com, also in little missions, voice clips, and also in hangouts Franklin can have with different characters.

1. He sleeps 8 hours a day:

According to a little observation, when you save the game by putting the characters to sleep it also advances their time, for each character there is a certain sleep cycle. Michael sleeps 6 hours, which is little, Trevor being Trevor puts him to a 12-hour sleep, which sounds good, but it's too much, finally, Franklin sleeps 8 hours, which is necessary.

2. He (maybe) is musical:

There is not so much detail about this, but if we analyze his room (in both houses) he has a guitar, mixer, radio, speaker, and more (there's A LOT of music-related stuff in his room in his and Aunt Denise's house).

Here:

2. He has three favorite radio stations:

These are Radio Los Santos, West Coast Classics, and The Lab, each one ofc has their genre:

Radio LS:

Genre: Contemporary Hip-Hop.

Styles:

Alternative Hip-Hop

Cloud Rap

Conscious Hip-Hop

Contemporary Hip-Hop

Dirty Rap

Drill

Gangsta Rap

Mumble Rap

R&B

Trap

West Coast Classic:

Genre: Classic Hip-Hop

Styles:

Old School Hip-Hop

West Coast Hip-Hop

East Coast Hip-Hop

Southern Hip-Hop

Alternative Hip-Hop

Comedy Hip-Hop

Conscious Hip-Hop

Political Hip-Hop

Gangsta Rap

R&B

Horrorcore

G-Funk

Golden Age Hip-Hop

Hardcore Hip-Hop

The Lab:

Genre: Hip-Hop

Styles:

Electronica

Rock

Synth-Pop

Dancehall

R&B

Gangsta Rap

Pop Rap

3. He may be a Christian?

In the second mission, Franklin got with Michael, this one says sarcastically a vesicle from the Bible "It's a foolish man who builds his house in sand, baby" to which Franklin answers "I don't think my boy Matthew was thinking trucks when he wrote that shit."

4. He's the only one who uses lockpins:

When you take or steal cars with Trevor or Michael, it will always result in a broken window, but with Franklin, this doesn't happen since he uses lockpins.

5. He may like the sky view (Not official, just a thought):

This is just a speculation of different pictures you see in Franklin's page in gta.fandom.com, some of those are Franklin admiring the sky (especially at night) and the city in his Vinewood mansion, but honestly, who wouldn't?

Edit: He does, in one of his switch scenes you can see him using the telescope of his mansion.

6. (NSFW!) He (Probably) lost his virginity to Tonya at 13 years old:

Yeah, strong right? When you hear these two speaking to each other in little missions with Tonya, she revels that she and Franklin had, yk a moment, in the back of Burger Shot, however, Franklin denies it and says they didn't do anything serious.

7. He cannot play tennis:

You can play tennis with Michael, Trevor's a fan of it, and there's no reason behind of why Franklin can't play tennis (This can be used for like headcanon idk why).

8. Both him and Michael are know to smoke cigarettes:

At Franklin's mansion, you seem to find lots of ashtrays along with Redwood cigarettes scattered on tables.

9. His email address:

His e-mail address is [email protected] (I hc than he likes being called Frankie, idk why).

10. He exists:

Not irl, but the fandom (not all of them) tends to forget him, and it's very sad, he's so cool and precious.

11. He seems to be more compassionate towards animals:

For this one, I'll use the information straight from the gta.fandom.com page, since it's better and more detailed.

"Of the three protagonists, Franklin appears to have the most compassion for animals, possibly because he is the only main character to have a pet. When he runs over a wild animal, he usually responds with compassionate quotes, such as: "Sorry, little dude!" or "Watch out, little dude!" whereas Michael usually responds with sarcasm and Trevor with dark humor."

Anyway, that's all from my part, I'll try to post more content abt him and Lamar, I think they're such interesting characters, wish there was more content abt both of them.

Tysm for reading, bye :)

#franklin clinton #franklin clinton x reader #gta v x reader #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft 5

[alanblindowlwilson]

I made this for Alan in honor of his 80th Birthday. It’s an Ai voice recording of Alan’s real voice reading his essay Grim Harvest, sampled from the Marina Bokelman interview. 🌲🦉💚

#alan wilson #alan blind owl wilson #blind owl #alan christie wilson #canned heat #classic rock #blues rock #27 club #nerd love #coastal redwood #redwoods #save the redwoods #giant sequoias #Youtube

[theflyindutchwoman]

You know, you're good at a lot of things. Lying isn't one of them. You think I'm good at things? Can I get that in writing?

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 1.20 - Free Fall

The symbolism of Tim and Lucy being separated by a wall is extremely fitting… and poetic. She spent their first six months together seeing through the façade he put on, getting through him like no one else… So ending the season with a physical barrier between them seems apt : one more obstacle before their relationship entirely shifts. And while Tim only slammed the door on Lucy to protect her from being infected as well, she still sticked by his side, refusing to leave him alone… he still allowed himself to be emotionally vulnerable with her… And that summarises their early dynamic wonderfully : him trying to push her away with her staying and getting him to open up to her...

Even separated, there's still this connection, this feeling of togetherness that shines through the scene. Their little heart-to-heart on each side of the door is so touching. Both of them sitting on the floor, mirroring each other… Although Lucy's body is slightly more inclined towards Tim at first. Which makes sense : she's usually more open while he's more guarded. But his head turns towards her before long, as if he's instinctively looking for comfort, drawing support from her on the other side. She's doing her best to cheer him up and reassure him… But she's anxious nonetheless : it's a small detail but she rubs her collarbone while checking in with him, a gesture she often does when she's getting nervous or on the edge of panicking… only nowadays it's her side that she touches, where her DOD tattoo is.

Despite the tension and the bleakness of the situation, they still manage to make the other smile. Tim telling her she's good at a lot of things, except lying, and Lucy teasing him about needing him to write down his compliment feel like their classic banter. She's trying to take his mind off what's happening and judging by his little smile, it works. It is some much-needed levity… if only for a minute. There's still a crack in his voice though. They're both trying to remain strong for the other but it's getting harder to mask. She can hear the fear in his voice and he knows it. He can hear the worry in hers. The choice of having the camera move from Lucy to Tim in one shot, at that precise moment, is perfect : physical touch is something they use to ground themselves. But not only were they not quite at that stage of their relationship, they physically couldn't. This shot brilliantly - and metaphorically - emphasises how close they are, and yet how far they still are… This is also a bit of a role reversal from Redwood, with Lucy being the one trying to keep his mind out of the worst case scenario and making him talk. The quivering lips, shaking voice… Tim is so terrified - for good reasons. He's not the only one. Lucy is just as scared for him, her tears falling when he admits he'll take his own life first if it comes to that. But the fact that he is hidden by a door also allows Tim to break down, to be extremely vulnerable - in some ways even more so than with everything that happened with Isabel. There's something completely primal in his fear here. They're both so powerless and this isn't something they're good at. All this display of vulnerability and honesty showcase how close they already are, how much Tim already trusts Lucy with his emotions. The way they keep glancing at each other once the door opens… She needs the reassurance that he's alright and he needs the eye contact - she was his lifeline behind the wall after all. He needs her comforting presence for a little bit longer, still reeling and feeling raw.

Something shifted between them at the quarantine house, and despite Tim's best efforts to rebuild some walls, they are both passed that… The bets, the bantering, the flirting of early season 02 : this moment made all of that possible. This was such a pivotal moment in their relationship… with the wall / door imagery starting to be an ongoing motif in their journey as well.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #1.20 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

[tlonista]

Multifandom Hurt/Comfort

Everything hurts; just hope you've got somebody to hold you together when it does. My multifandom writing highlights.

Careful, I Bite (Baldur's Gate 3)

Seducere (14,000 words) - Astarion's complicated, mostly terrible 200-year relationship with seduction, and his less terrible relationship with Tav.

A Crimson Night (18,000 words) - What if Astarion's quest involved an uncomfortable proposition at a masquerade? A Ren'py visual novel with BG3 mechanics and extensive player choice.

The Jayvik Cycle (Arcane)

City of Sunlight (10,000 words) - Vignettes about classism, alienation, and Viktor adjusting to life in Piltover.

Bad Machinery (27,000 words) - An AU where Viktor never left the undercity, but he found Jayce anyway.

Burning Paper Curses (26,000 words) - Viktor's exile after the Council bombing, and the birth of a fake-enemies relationship with Jayce.

Blood and Blue Diamonds (73,000 words) - A detective!Jayce love letter to '30s Los Angeles noir.

City Slang (14,000 words) - Viktor has a terrible night in the undercity, but it's the push he needs to confess some feelings to himself.

To Gold and Redwoods (4,000 words) - A marshal!Jayce and outlaw!Viktor classic western AU.

Love and Demolition (Danger Days)

Better Living Through Anarchy (35,000 words) - Fun Ghoul is a captured zonerunner. Gerard Way is a Battery City TV showrunner. A Killjoys origin story.

Graffiti Tarot (50,000 words) - The Fab Four live... but Ghoul's in prison, Poison's in a coma, Kobra's a brainwashed killer, and Jet's raising a magical girl. A post-SING AU.

The Ship Is Isaac/Misery (Dead Space)

Apostles to the Dead (5,000 words) - EarthGov kept videos of what it did to Isaac on Titan. Ellie finds them. Set during Dead Space 3.

Vacuum Lullaby (11,000 words) - Liz Cross lives in the DS remake. After Aegis VII, she and Isaac try to patch each other up.

Miscellaneous

Ant Farming For Beginners (6,000 words, Doom Patrol) - Larry Trainor's time in the Ant Farm, leaning hard on the fourth wall.

Simulacron-12 Is Smooth Again (4,000 words, Blade Runner 2049) - K is under Niander Wallace's control. Reality is breaking down. On a couple layers of existence, Joi does what she can to help.

A Kindness of Dreams (4,000 words, Darkest Dungeon) - Before the hamlet, Baldwin comforts Sarmenti in the tyrant's court.

#hurt/comfort #whump #arcane #jayvik #danger days #dead space #astarion #new pinned post who dis

[mosneakers]

The spirit of Agnes and Coraleye enter the elegant Sunset Valley estate. Vintage melodies from a record player swirl, enveloping Coraleye in a sense of nostalgia that she had only known from classic romance films up until this moment.

Agnes: Welcome home, darling. 230 Redwood Parkway, fondly known as "August Moon" by some.

Coraleye: Wow, that's such a magical name. This home is breathtaking, Grandma!

Agnes: It's always been my envisioned haven for raising children. Coraleye: And you owned it? Even while you lived in Moonlight Falls? Who took care of it when you weren't here?

Agnes: My sister, Cornelia, tended to her in my absence. This home held a special place in my heart, and she, understanding its significance, made occasional upgrades, just in case we ever decided to sell. Or, perhaps... return.

Coraleye: Return? As in move back? Agnes: Come, dear. Looks like dinner is finished, and now we're clearing up. I want you to hear this conversation.

As they step into the kitchen, tension hangs thick in the air. Erik diligently washes the dishes while Agnes busies herself preparing ingredients for tomorrow's meals. Neither utter a word, until Agnes finally breaks the silence.

Agnes: Erik, I... I must apologize for snapping at you during dinner. That was quite unwarranted. You were right—I ought to have shared the news with you about the fire. I know the Seymour house was so dear to your heart. It was for me, too. I hope you're not angry with me.

Erik: Ain't mad at ya, Aggy. Gee, I suppose I overreacted too. It's not just about the house; I can live without that. My decent paying job in Moonlight Falls, no chance nobody here'll pay the same. Cost of living's a lot higher, and...well, I've been hoping you'd eventually come 'round to having another baby with me, honey...

Coraleye: [eyes misting] Grandpa really wanted another baby, didn't he? Agnes: [Smiles fondly] Oh yes. But I was quite stubborn. Coraleye: I think Janie mentioned a bit about the fire being the reason for you moving back here. Did you figure out how it happened? Agnes: No, we never did. But the Crumplebottom Sisters informed me that it destroyed everything. Even their great powers couldn't reverse the damage. I had planned to tell Erik, but Belinda beat me to it with a telephone call.

Agnes: [Continuing with Erik] You know I've always said that I'm content with our two. Erik: I know baby, I've just had my fingers crossed one day you'd change your mind. Just a pipe dream, that's all. Agnes: [Sighs] Well, darling... We'll need to sort through our finances. It seems you might just be getting your way, after all...

Erik: What are you telling me, woman? Agnes: It's still early yet to, but... I find myself a tad late.

Erik: Late for tea and crumpets with the ladies at the country club, or are we talking more along the lines of a bun in the oven? Agnes: It could be. Again, it's still very early. Just three days.

Erik joyfully sweeps Agnes into his arms, twirling her as they share a tender kiss. A soft giggle escapes Agnes's lips.

Erik: Aggy baby, you make me the luckiest man to ever live or die!

Coraleye's heart swells with emotion as she witnesses her great-grandfather express his unconditional love for Agnes with such passion and honesty. They follow the Darling pair into the living area to join the girls, particularly Gwendolyn, who are engrossed in the television.

Coraleye: Gosh, look at how you two lovebirds are gazing at each other. TV not holding your attention much, is it? [Grins]

Agnes: Well, I've always preferred books. [Smiles] The television often broadcasted troubling news, especially that year when the government confirmed the existence of aliens. I made the children turn it off promptly if I heard any talk of extraterrestrials.

Coraleye quickly averts eye contact, wondering how much Agnes knows about the current state of the world, particularly Sunglo, his abduction, and how those events resulted in the birth of his beloved daughter.

Knowing her great-grandmother's well-documented phobia centered around extraterrestrials, Coraleye opts to change the subject for the time being.

Coraleye: Hey, Grandma? How did you and Grandpa know to bring the family photos along on your trip to Sunset Valley? Most people don't bring all their family photos on vacations.

Agnes: [Grins] My, I did say you were observant, didn't I? Coraleye: Well, astute. But yes. I hope to land a career in journalism, just like Grandpa! Agnes: [Nods approvingly] A journalist in the making, just like your Grandpa. No, the decision to take the photos along was merely a coincidence. Like you heard your Grandfather say, I make him "the luckiest man to ever live or die!"

#ts4 #MD4season10 #MD4 #Coraleye Darling #RealmOfMagicGetaway #Agnes Darling #Many Moons Ago #Many Moons Ago: Gen 1 #MMA Gen 1: Ch. 16 #Erik Darling #Gwendolyn Darling #GIF #Persephone Darling