#Affordable Home Improvement Ideas

[tlchome]

Easy and Affordable Home Improvement Ideas from Interior Designers

Are you ready to renovate your home without breaking the bank? TLC Home and Services blends Southern charm and contemporary style, providing plenty of inspiration for home improvements. Our team of interior designers has put together an assortment of cost-effective ideas that can transform your space. These tips can help transform it visually or functionally and makeover your space without breaking the bank!

1. Refresh with Paint

Introducing a fresh coat of paint can quickly transform any room and is one of the easiest and most cost-effective ways to inject new life into any space in your home. Whether you choose bold accent walls or subtle, neutral tones, painting can bring instantaneous change into any room in the house. For a theatrical transformational effect, consider giving your front door an eye-catching makeover with vibrant hues—an affordable project that will increase curb appeal significantly!

2. Install Updated Lighting Fixtures

Lighting can immensely affect how we perceive a space, setting its mood. Consider upgrading any outdated fixtures with modern designs that reflect your personal taste; pendant lights, chandeliers, or floor lamps could all make an impactful statement about who you are as an individual. Furthermore, adding dimmers may offer even more control for different times or activities during the day or week.

3. Add Greenery

Houseplants are inexpensive and effective in bringing color, texture, and life into any room. Affordable and easily found, houseplants improve air quality significantly. Luckily, in Charlotte, local nurseries and farmers' markets offer a selection of houseplants suitable for every home; those new to gardening should opt for low-maintenance succulents, snake plants, or pothos, which require less care and attention than their counterparts.

4. Revamp Your Furniture Layout

Sometimes, all it takes to refresh a room is a fresh perspective - rearrange your furniture for an instant facelift! Experiment with different layouts until you find one that meets both functionality and visual appeal; consider the flow of movement and natural lighting when planning where to begin.

5. Install a Backsplash

A backsplash in your kitchen or bathroom can create an eye-catching focal point. Thanks to peel-and-stick tiles available in different styles, this project can be both cost-effective and straightforward if done yourself. Choose an aesthetic that complements existing decor for maximum coherence.

6. Accessorize Deliberately

Subtle changes can have an enormous effect. New throw pillows, blankets, and area rugs can add vibrant colors and textures to your home - look for items that reflect current trends while complementing existing decor. Local shops in Charlotte offer handcrafted pieces that add personal touches that add personalization to any space.

7. Take Advantage of Open Shelving

Open shelving can make any kitchen or living area feel larger and more organized, offering an inexpensive way to display dishes, books, or decorative pieces that matter. Ensure the displayed items are neatly organized to prevent an unsightly cluttered appearance.

8. Make an Impression at Your Entryway

Your home's entryway is often the first impression guests receive upon visiting, so make it count by creating a welcoming and functional space with features like stylish benches, hooks for coats and bags, and an attractive doormat that sets the right tone. A welcoming entrance can set the stage for the rest of your home!

9. Replace Old Hardware

Replacing outdated cabinet and door hardware can instantly transform your home, adding modernity with chic designs in finishes like brushed nickel, matte black, or gold for an instantly updated look that won't break the bank.

10. Create a Gallery Wall

Personalize character and charm into any room with a gallery wall. Mixing frames of different sizes and styles together can create an eye-catching display of your photos, artwork, and mementos at an economical cost. It's sure to add charm!

Learn more about the Benefits of an Organized Home.

Final thoughts

Transforming your home doesn't need to be costly or time-consuming. With these easy and budget-conscious ideas, you can create an aesthetically pleasing space that meets all your functional needs.

Are You Ready To Transform Your Home?

Call today to arrange an initial consultation with one of our expert designers. Together, we can make your home improvement dreams a reality! For additional tips and personalized advice, visit our website.

[avalonstudiodesignbuilder]

Fresh Ideas for a Modern Home Makeover

Embarking on a home renovation journey is a thrilling venture, offering the chance to breathe new life into your living space. It's not just about cosmetic upgrades; it's about boosting comfort and functionality, making your home more enjoyable and practical. Whether you're sprucing up a single room or overhauling your entire house, modern, innovative ideas can bring a striking transformation.

Embrace Open-Concept Living

Open-concept living is a standout trend in home renovations. Knocking down unnecessary walls creates a bright, airy space, allowing natural light to flood your home. This design fosters a sense of spaciousness and invites a seamless flow between the living room, dining area, and kitchen, enhancing social interaction and making your home feel more connected and lively.

Integrate Smart Home Technology

Elevate your home’s efficiency and convenience by integrating smart home technology. Smart thermostats, lighting systems, and security features can all be controlled from your smartphone, adding a layer of comfort and security. These innovations not only simplify daily living but also promote energy efficiency, leading to lower utility bills and a greener home.

Modernize Your Kitchen and Bathroom

Updating your kitchen and bathroom can dramatically modernize your home. In the kitchen, opt for sleek cabinetry, quartz countertops, and cutting-edge appliances. An island with a built-in sink or cooktop adds both utility and style. In the bathroom, embrace minimalist designs with frameless glass showers, floating vanities, and contemporary fixtures. These changes not only enhance aesthetics but also increase your property’s value.

Use Sustainable Materials

Incorporating sustainable materials is essential for a modern renovation. Choose eco-friendly options like bamboo flooring, recycled glass countertops, and low-VOC paints. These materials are not only better for the environment but also promote a healthier living space. Sustainable practices show a commitment to the planet while achieving a stylish, modern home.

Transform Your Outdoor Space

Landscaping is a powerful component of home renovation. Create an outdoor retreat with native plants, efficient irrigation systems, and chic outdoor furniture. A well-designed garden or patio extends your living space, offering a peaceful escape and enhancing your property’s overall appeal.

By weaving these innovative renovation tips into your project, you can transform your home into a modern, functional, and visually stunning space. Whether you're aiming to boost comfort, raise property value, or simply refresh your home’s look, these ideas provide a solid foundation. For professional guidance and top-tier renovation services, partnering with Avalon Studio Design Builder can help turn your dream home into reality.

[renobroscontracting]

Website : https://www.renobroscontracting.com

Address : Servicing the Lower Mainland, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

Reno Bro's Contracting, a family-owned business since 2010, specializes in residential, commercial, and strata demolitions, renovations, and property maintenance in the Lower Mainland, Vancouver. Known for professional, personal service and affordable pricing, they are fully licensed and insured. Their expertise spans complete home renovations, including new construction, kitchen & bathroom renovations, and demolition services, ensuring superior quality craftsmanship and a commitment to exceeding client expectations.

Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/renobrosvancouver/

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[viapu-com]

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[raspberryconverse]

Spouse: I think I found a new show we can watch. Me: What is it? Spouse: There was a satirical essay about it in my audiobook. Me: Ok... Spouse: *gives me a summary of the essay while still not answering my actual question re: the show*

It was yet another HGTV show 🙄 I sat on the couch for a few minutes while my food cooled (just took it out of the broiler) and they started the show. I knew I wasn't really going to be interested (because really the only HGTV shows I like that my spouse has found are "Help! I Wrecked My House" and "Bargain Block" and there are a few more that I'll tolerate, but never actually choose to watch), so I went into the dining room and ate my dinner. Spouse paused the show while I ate.

Me: You don't have to pause it. Spouse: You don't want to watch it? Me: Meh. Spouse: Ok, [Spouse]

(Spouse is notorious for me suggesting a new show, laughing hysterically at parts and then asking when it's going to get good)

Me: I know you're into all the decorating shows and snooping on RedFin to see what other people have done with houses like ours [we have a very common style house in our area], but you know I'm not all that into it. Spouse: Why do you have to ruin everything?

[mcflymemes]

INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE (1989) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i hate these guys.

this is a new experience for me.

it happens to me all the time.

you lost today, [name]. but that doesn't mean you have to like it.

may we go home now, please?

i've got a lot of fond memories of that dog.

he sticks out like a sore thumb. we'll find him.

does anyone here speak english?

what are you hiding?

archaeology is the search for fact, not truth.

forget any ideas you've got about lost cities, exotic travel, and digging up the world.

we do not follow maps to buried treasure, and "x" never... ever marks the spot.

70% of all archaeology is done in the library. researching. reading.

we cannot afford to take mythology at face value.

help me get us out of here.

are you kidding? i made all that up.

she talks in her sleep.

try not to talk.

give me your other hand. i can't hold on.

i can get it. i can almost reach it.

[name], let it go.

those people are trying to kill us.

i didn't know you could fly a plane.

our situation has not improved.

i'm as human as the next man.

i'm like a bad penny, i always turn up.

throw down the gun or the girl will die.

no! don't shoot!

please do what he says!

[name], what are you doing here?

head for the fireplace!

why are you sitting there resting when we're so near the end?

don't look at me like that.

i would have done anything to get it. you would have done the same.

i'm sorry you think so.

i'll never forgive myself.

thank god... it's fake.

look, can we discuss this later?

i came here to save you!

look what you did! i can't believe what you did!

i'll never forget how wonderful it was.

you have chosen wisely.

did you intend to leave us standing on the doorstep all day?

now look, i've gone and caught a sniffle.

don't take that tone with me!

this is the second time i've had to reclaim my property from you.

that belongs in a museum.

why are you trying to kill us?

my soul is prepared. how's yours?

what have you brought?

i'm sorry about your head. i thought that you were one of them.

you came back for the book?

is that what you think of me?

who gives a damn what you believe?

follow me. i know the way.

i find that if i just sit down to think... the solution presents itself.

in this sort of race, there's no silver medal for finishing second.

we didn't talk. we've never talked.

what are you complaining about?

you could go down in history.

you're going the wrong way.

the pen is mightier than the sword.

are you crazy? don't go between them!

my reputation preceeds me.

it would make me very happy.

shooting me won't get you anywhere.

we're well out of range.

you call this archaeology?

we are on the verge of completing a quest that began almost two thousand years ago.

we're just one step away.

since i've met you, i've nearly been incinerated, drowned, shot at, and chopped into fish bait.

we're caught in the middle of something sinister here.

you're a great deal like your father.

how dare you kiss me.

leave me alone. i don't like fast women.

you say this has been just another typical day for you, huh?

you're meddling with powers you can't possibly comprehend.

if only i could have been there with you.

[thezombieprostitute]

Dragonfly - Part 2

Summary: Steve has just about everything he could ever want in life. He's got you, a baby on the way, and a successful Family. No one would dare interfere with that. Right?

A/N: Reader is female, pregnant. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: Death threats, Implied violence, Pregnancy. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

You’ve been stuck inside the house for days. It’s a beautiful house, you feel comfortable in it, but knowing you can’t leave makes you want out more than ever. You try to distract yourself by cooking and baking whatever it is the baby is craving but that only goes so far. Especially when you can feel Steve’s frustration adding to your own. Something needs to actually be done but, with nothing you can actually do, it’s just building up a lot of frustrated energy for both of you. He can at least use the home gym for some of his energy but all you’re allowed to use in there is the treadmill and it’s just not enough. 

Bucky finally has some news and calls you both into Steve’s office. You vaguely recognize the person with him as God the Bounty Hunter, or GBH as he allows only his closest circle to call him. Steve sets you in the chair behind his desk, the most comfortable one in the office, before sitting on the desk facing the two men. 

“GBH has been able to get an appointment with the person who runs the boards,” Bucky starts. Steve’s fists clench as he grabs the edge of the desk, fighting the urge to punch the faceless person. “It’s at the Cairo Hotel and I’m gonna recommend neither of you is there for it.”

“What?” Steve’s anger is evident in his clenched jaw.

“There are a few factors, Steve,” Bucky raises his hands. “Namely, I don’t think you can control yourself to follow the rules of neutrality at the appointment. We can’t afford to lose Pine’s support.” 

Steve lowers his head in understanding. You get up and gently rub your hand between his shoulder blades, trying to help him keep calm.

“Another factor is my professional standing,” GBH adds. “I have a reputation and clout to uphold. These aren’t the kind of people you want to piss off. Anything happens to Mr. Smith at an appointment with me, I’ll be done for. And not just professionally.”

“GBH assures me that there is procedure for a target to remove their contract or for someone else to do so on their behalf,” Bucky offers. “It’s likely gonna cost a lot, but I know that doesn’t matter.” Steve nods. “Plus, it’ll keep her off of the contract postings for at least five years.”

“But I am highly doubtful anyone will get any information on who posted the contract,” GBH confessed. Steve turned to glare at him but the other man seemed unaffected as he continued, “again, lots of regulation and factors. Namely trust within the business. No one’s gonna post a contract if there’s a chance the target finds out they’re the ones who opened it.”

“Just business, huh,” Steve mocks. 

You hug him from behind, “just getting the hit on me removed would be a major quality of life improvement.” You nuzzle your face against his shoulder. “And maybe we can send one of the Garbage Men to the appointment? They’re good at getting subtext and negotiations, right?”

Steve and Bucky both nod at your assessment. 

“I was planning on just me and God,” Bucky admits. “Would it be acceptable for us to bring a third?” 

GBH contemplates, “it shouldn’t be a problem. The key thing is that it’s at Pine’s establishment and he doesn’t have to worry about someone trying to hurt him in retaliation for doing his job.” 

Steve’s grip on the desk makes his knuckles go white. He hates the idea of his wife’s life or death being a matter of ‘business’. But he knows that’s how it is for everyone outside his circle. It’s the kind of thinking that he’s worked hard to make sure he doesn’t fall into. “Whatever you need to do, do it. I want this contract burnt.”

It’s finally the day of the contract appointment and you do your best to distract yourself and Steve. He’s always been willing to do whatever you needed but it’s been magnified since your confirmed pregnancy test a few months ago. Thinking it might help both of you to relax a little, you ask him to help you out. 

A foot massage for your swollen feet, keeping his hands busy and his thoughts focused on your moans of pleasure. 

A warm bath to help your muscle aches, keeping his attention focused on your naked body and the temperature of the water. 

Which, of course, led to the two of you in bed so he can properly worship your body. Part of you misses the rougher sex but you understand Steve’s hesitancy. And damn if he doesn’t still make you feel so good you forget your name. 

Steve holds your sleeping form in his arms, gently rubbing your belly. He knows you’ve been trying to distract him and he’s so grateful to you. He’s barely been able to keep from punching walls and checking his phone every five minutes. But taking care of you really helped to settle him. 

He hears the telltale chirp of his phone and moves as carefully as he can so that he doesn’t wake you. The message is from Bucky, Contract burnt. Possible lead thanks to Teach. His shoulders go lax as he finally feels the relief he’s been longing for. 

He returns to his place in the bed, holding you close. You barely wake up, just enough to make yourself comfortable and kiss his neck. It’s not completely safe for you and your baby boy yet. But now that the overarching danger has been taken care of, he can focus on finding and crushing the source. Whoever Dragonfly is, Steve vows they will die in agony by his own hand.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jamneuromain; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @leryg0; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @talesofadragon; @texmexdarling

[master-kohga-dating-sim]

okay i know i dont make a lot of star wars posts because i'm terrified of the fandom. but i like to analyze my favorite characters to improve my writing and i came across something that i haven't heard anyone mention before and its so obvious that i'm losing my mind

(DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NOT READ THE ASCENDANCY SERIES (CANNOT AFFORD IT ATM), I AM NOT A PART OF THE FANDOM, I AM JUST A CASUAL ENJOYER WHO LIKES TO YAP. i have a basic idea of the plot but idk the specifics, im just going off of what i've seen in the base canon trilogy)

has anyone else noticed that Thrawn is actually insane. i mean that, for all intents and purposes Thrawn is mentally fucked up even before he joined the empire. it's just so well written because of how he acts and how he's not like Kylo or Anakin because he's not emotionally charged

okay so we meet Thrawn for the first time, yeah. we get some basic need-to-know stuff: cold, calculating, emotionally reserved, wicked smart, probably autistic, extremely patient. you get that he knows exactly what he's doing and how to do it, and over the course of the books you find out what it is.

which is where it starts. his only goal in life, what he literally says is the sole reason for his existence, is to protect the Ascendancy. but they have made it very clear that they do not want that because the shit he does goes against what they stand for, yet he still continues to do it. he even says that he doesn't expect their gratitude or permission. he fully intends to keep doing what he's doing even if they actively reject him. why? because it's his home, the only one that he's ever known. and he's completely unwilling to go and learn another one. because he is fucking insane

i love how Thrawn's mental state is written so much because it's not what you typically expect from insane characters and it's not even like he's trying to hide it under a facade. how he acts isn't a mask, that's just how he truly is, and his unhinged motives are just seamlessly connected to it with nothing to hide behind. its such a great and unique way to write a character and i think i should point that out (sorry to the people who followed for legend of zelda stuff lmao. my house)

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Kim Dokja headcanons with fem!reader who is a writer

These headcanons are dedicated to my friend @d10nsaint who recommended me this webtoon series to me when I had nothing else to read lol. Enjoy! :)

Prior to the apocalypse, Kim Dokja was neither a social butterfly nor a likable person on Minosoft’s Q and A team. Most people avoided him, and he liked to keep a low profile so he could read his webnovels in peace. 

It was a perfect, quiet routine for a contract worker like himself  until the arrival of a new junior shattered it all. [First Name] [Last Name], recently transferred from the company’s [Country] branch to HQ. And she was assigned to work under him. 

Not only was the junior a quick learner, but she was also very good-looking. Kim Dokja might be a reader at heart, he wasn’t a blind fool to not notice her. She was definitely on her way to becoming the next Yoo Sangah in the company: charming, kind, and willingly to stay late to help the team finish up any assignments for the next meeting. 

He definitely did not have a chance with someone like them. At least that was what he had thought until he looked over in her cubicle to go over some paperwork when he saw the artwork of a web novel on her computer but she wasn't there. 

SOMEONE ELSE BESIDES HIM READ WEBNOVELS?! The man was stunned to say the least. However, right now he could not afford to look like a weirdo with the CEO making random rounds to each department today. So, like the gentleman he is, he placed the documents on your desk and went right back to work. 

But he kept an eye on her…in a non-creepy way of course! It was just….hard  for him to make conversation with someone. It definitely took Kim Dokja a few times to ask [First Name] if they would be interested in going to get a bite to eat on the way home from a particularly tiring day in the office. 

To his surprise and delight, she accepted. It was nothing fancy, just a food stall. When he saw that her phone screen was opened up to the newest chapter of Three Ways of Survival he couldn’t help but blurt out that it was a mind-blowing twist to the story. 

[First Name]'s reaction to his words was stunned silence, followed by them asking him that he’s read the novel too with a starry look in her eyes. 

After that, Kim Dokja and [First Name] exchanged numbers. While at Minosoft,  the two of them worked together and remained professional. If one or the other were invited to drinks, they’d follow them. Nothing too odd to raise any alarms, just casual banter that even made a few of the other employees raise her eyebrows.

It was a whole different story when they were off the clock though. 

The two of them either went out somewhere, or just spent a good chunk of the evening texting each other web novel recommendations or their thoughts on the latest chapter of TWSA.

Kim Dokja thought he knew everything about his growing crush on [First Name] until she shyly dropped another startling revelation on him just a year after discovering that they loved reading as much as he did: [First Name] [Last Name] was a web novel writer.

Not only that, but her work was something he’d recently started to read when tls123 went on a brief hiatus due to health issues. 

Seriously, how could someone be so perfect in his eyes?!

Naturally, he read [First Name]’s work and gave her honest feedback on the plot’s progression, the characters, any and everything that would make her grin from ear to ear or hum in contemplation about where she could improve. 

He has the honor of reading her rough drafts before she published it online. Not going to lie, some of his ideas came from his favorite web novel. But [First Name] deeply appreciated his help and often thanked him for his support, especially when she was hit with writer’s block.

It took Kim Dokja another six months before he worked up the courage to ask [First Name] out on a date. He was terrified, fearing that he might lose his only friend…but seeing the bright red hue on  [First Name]’s face and hearing her stutter that she would be delighted to go out with him as more than a co-worker and a friend made his heart skip a beat.

She….she really…liked him too, huh? That’s…great. No, it was more than great. This is probably one of the happiest memories he still kept close to his heart: knowing that he loved someone, and she loved him back.

And now, no matter what happened in these scenarios, he would protect and provide for [First Name]. She was precious to him, and she gladly reciprocated that same devotion and love with no strings attached or scheming. 

It still warmed his heart to see her cuddle with Gil-Yeong and Shin Yu-Seong late at night or work with the rest of his party to ensure that everyone was prepared for what lay ahead next. 

He also took secret, sadistic delight in seeing his significant other win arguments against Han Sooyoung, especially about stories or writing. 

No matter what she said, a plagiarist is still a plagiarist even if people said that SSSSSS-Grade Infinite Regressor is superior to Three Ways of Survival in every way.

.

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 (𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁)

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender! Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 1) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An argument leads Dean into finally confessing the truth of his career but before you can make the choice on whether or not you believe Dean you find out some disturbing news which awakens you to a harsh reality.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: character death (oc) i think that’s it

Things were about as tense as you thought they would be,. You had never felt this uncomfortable in your own home until this very moment as you stood here with Dean. But you supposed for the sake of your own sanity, you knew you would have to break the ice somehow.

“Make yourself at home I guess, agent.” You spoke and motioned for him to have a seat on the couch.

Dean walked further into your home and he straightened up the jacket from his suit, uncertain if he should bother with taking it off or not. But then something caught his eye. Dean started walking towards wine of your bookshelves, the one that had several sketchbooks you had from over the years.

“You mind if I have a look at one of these?” Dean asked.

You glanced over and saw he was looked it through your bookshelves. “Sure, have at it.”

Then you sat down on your windowsill and picked up your current sketchbook once more so you could get back to work on the cover art you were asked to do. Meanwhile, Dean pulled out a random book and he was slowly going through the pages.

As Dean looked at your work, he was amazed at the detail you put into it. You’ve definitely improved your skills over the years, though back in the day he didn’t know how you could have possibly gotten better. Obviously he was wrong.He continued to look through different sketchbooks but then there was one that he hadn’t expected to find.

This one had a photograph of the two of you glued to the first page. Then as Dean flipped through the pages he realized you had drawn pictures of him, each of them were dated and from what he could tell you often wondered what he would look like over the years or even what he did for a living, judging from the different uniforms you drew him in.

“I didn’t think you’re talents could get any better. You were already really good back then.” Dean finally spoke, but you ignored him.

Dean looked up at you and saw you were focused on your artwork. He closed the book he had in his palm before he put it back on the bookshelf and he walked over.

“What are you working on now?” He asked and started looking over your shoulder. He watched as you were drawing some sort of steampunk looking piece, as if it were some sort of Cinderella alternate reality.

“Cover ideas.” Your shortness didn’t surprise him but it still stung nonetheless. He let out a sigh before he tried to speak again.

“Look, at the bar I didn’t mean for you to misunderstand anything. I was really happy to see you there.”

“Dean, what was there to misunderstand? You’re an agent here to do a job and walk right out of my life all over again, leaving me with no clue as to where you’re going or if you even care to see me ever again. Danielle was right. And I should have forgotten about you decades ago.”

“It’s not as heartless as it sounds. I can’t afford to just catch up with anyone i want to, I can’t afford any kind of closeness with anybody. You have no idea how many enemies I’ve made with this job, how many innocent lives have been ruined, how many people have gotten hurt or worse just because they knew me.” Dean tried to explain but you scoffed and tossed your sketchbook to the side.

“That’s a coward’s answer. Lots of FBI agents have families. That means they’re brave enough to take the risk. But I get it, a simple conversation that isn’t work related isn’t worth the risk. I’m not worth the risk, I get it.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I’m saying!”

“Isn’t it though? It may not be your exact words but that’s the implication.” You got up from your spot and started walking to the kitchen.

Dean’s jaw tightened and his brows narrowed before he started to follow you into the kitchen.

“Alright, you want the truth?! This job sucks and I’ve gotten attached to people like you and the moment I let my guard down, ninety percent of the time those people die. Knowing me is a death sentence. My brother and I have lost too many people because of it. I can’t let you die like that because some monster takes it upon itself to break in and gut you up just because you know me.”

You, under the impression Dean was using the word ‘monster’ as some term for a serial killer or some sick sort of human being, scoffed. “Please, I’m plenty capable of protecting myself against some killer. You make it sound like the Boogyman’s after you.”

“The thing that killed your friend could easily kill you too and you can’t protect yourself from any of them, Y/N! You don’t know the kind of shit that’s out there. I didn’t expect you to be a part of this job and trust me if you weren’t involved I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Thanks, Dean. That makes me feel a thousand times better. And what kind of thing do you think will come after me, huh? Nothing could be that bad. Bad people do eventually get caught.” You said and you opened the refrigerator door to grab something to drink.

Dean rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, wondering if he really needed to risk telling you the truth after all. You were being so difficult but you didn’t even understand the shit he’s ever seen.

“The think that’s killing your coworkers and your boss’ wife isn’t just any bad guy. You have no idea what we’re going up against.” Dean’s voice was a little calmer, yet still deadly serious. You turned around to see if he’d elaborate or if he’d keep you in the dark just as he always has.

“The business that I told you I was in with my brother and my dad… it’s sort of um.. a traveling extermination business. Sam isn’t my partner in the FBI. Neither of us are agents. He’s my brother, and we hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, demons, doppelgängers… every ugly ass creature you can think of, we’ve probably killed before.” Dean finally confessed.

Your brows arched upward with shock. This was the excuse Dean decided to give you? This was why he avoided you all these years and he really expected you to believe he was hunting monsters like Van Helsing? Yeah right.

“Monsters? Really? Dean if you aren’t going to tell me the truth I think you should just leave. I don’t want to see you around here anymore.” You said, growing angrier the more you saw him, hurting even more knowing he would lie to your face like this.

“Y/N, name someone in this town that would gut innocent people and steal their hearts. That’s something a werewolf has been known to do in my field and they are stronger than you can handle.” He was still insisting you believe these lies?!

“Dean, I’m serious. I’m not buying this story of yours, okay? Why don’t you just go with Sam to make sure Danielle and her boyfriend are alright.” You said and when you went to brush past him, you felt his strong grip on your upper arm and you looked up at him.

“This isn’t just a story, Y/N. It’s the ugly reality.” He told you and you searched his eyes.

What the hell had Dean seen over the years that made him so sincere about this? You swore he had to be crazy if he expected you to believe this whole monster thing like he believed it. But before you could ask any questions about it, Dean’s phone started ringing.

Dean sighed a little before he let go of your arm just to answer the phone, figuring it must’ve been Sam.

“Sam? What’s happening?”

“Dean, it was Danielle’s boyfriend. He was one of them. Danielle and I were safe and I took care of Chris but maybe one of his guys broke in and knocked me out or something. I can’t find Danielle anywhere. They took her belongings too. I don’t know where they could have taken her.” Sam said on the other line.

You must’ve heard bits and pieces of what Sam was saying because when Dean looked at you, he saw the stunned expression on your face and he watched as you started looking around to find your shoes to put on.

“Are you sure they took her? What if she had something to do with it? Did you do the test on her?” Dean asked.

“Test? What test? Dean what the hell is going on?!” You asked, wanting to know if your friend was alright. What test could they have possibly been talking about? None of this made any sense.

“I’ll explain in a second just hang on, alright? Sam, how fast can you get here?” Dan asked, turning his attention back to his brother.

“I couldn’t tell you. You and I may have to meet somewhere on foot. They took the car.” Sam said and Dean’s eyes went wide.

“You let them take the car?! What happened to you being the responsible brother, huh?” Dean asked and he ran a hand through his hair.

“Wait wait.. I found something. Dean it’s a notebook with all the workers’ addresses on them. Y/N’s name is circled. She’s bound to be next and I don’t see Danielle’s name anywhere on this list.” Sam explained and that was when Dean heard the familiar roar of the impala from outside.

“I think she’s here. Sam, You need to find Nelson and find out what the hell happened on that hunt.” Dean said sternly and your brows narrowed with confusion.

“Nelson? How can he be a part of this? What hunt are you talking about? He’s not a hunting kind of guy.” You said, thinking Dean meant hunting wildlife and you still refused to believe this whole monster killing story.

Dean hung up the phone before he looked over at you while shoving the phone in his pocket, “You need to go in your room. Lock the door and don’t you dare come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on, Winchester! What happened to my friend?”

Dean shook his head, “She stopped being your friend a long time ago. I need you to just trust me and stay out of the way until I tell you it’s safe. I promise I’ll explain everything when this is over.”

As much as you desperately wanted to argue with Dean, you could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to argue because this was no longer up for any debate, let alone discussion. You bit your tongue to keep from saying anything else and you walked towards your bedroom and shut the door behind you. But you didn’t lock the door as Dean advised. If what Dean was saying was really true, then you had to see it for yourself.

Dean took the gun he had from behind his back and he made sure there was plenty of ammunition. Once he found he had plenty of silver bullets on him, he made sure to keep it on him so he’d be prepared for when Danielle would come in. No wonder she seemed hesitant to leave with Sam. She had a job to do and he was willing to bet she was the one that killed Callie. Some actress.

Before Dean could even think about anything else, the door was suddenly kicked down and not only was it Danielle that walked through the door but there were two guys that were about Sam’s height dressed in leather like they were a couple of bikers from the bar or something. Sort of matched the charisma, or lack of, that Callie’s former boyfriend was talking about.

“Well well… You were just gonna spend the night with your friend and when she least expected it, you’d kill her like you killed Callie, huh?” Dean said as he lifted the gun to aim at their direction.

“Oh what would you know. Nelson deserves what he’s got coming. But it serves him right to watch everything he worked for fall apart, just like he did with my father’s pack.” Danielle seethed.

You could faintly hear the conversation from behind your bedroom door and your heart sank. Danielle was going to kill you? That was why she asked if she could spend the night? Why would she do that? She was one of your good friends, or at least that’s what you hoped. Clearly you were wrong, but what was this talk about a pack?

You reached up and carefully turned the knob, doing your best to keep quiet and you slowly started to open the door so you could hear things a little bit better. You simply cracked it open, not wanting to give your location away completely.

“Come on, you know Y/N better than anyone and you knew Callie better than anyone. You know damned well neither of them deserve what you’re doing to them. They’re good people and you know it.” You could hear Dean say but Danielle scoffed.

“My father was a good man before your kind took it upon yourselves to massacre my family! We never hunted anyone, strictly animals because my father wanted to be civilized. Live under the radar and stay clear of hunters. But Nelson… Nelson decided all of us are the same ugly things that keep you up at night. When he killed my family there was anarchy. I took the lead and said to Hell with it, we’re going after Nelson in the most.. traditional.. way possible. Show him the monsters he wanted us to be.” You could hear Danielle say, but your heart sank down to your feet.

Dean was right, she must’ve never been your friend if this was her plan all along. You felt so naive, gullible and stupid.

“Come on, Danielle, don’t make me pull this trigger on you and your friends. You think this is what your family would have wanted you to become?” Dean retorted.

“Who cares how I avenge them. This is how I’m getting my payback against Nelson and I’m not letting you, Sam, or any other hunter stand in my way.” Danielle said and from what you heard a fight broke out after that.

You heard furniture get moved around, you flinched at the sound of a vase shattering to the floor. Slowly, you moved to where you could look through the crack in the door. You finally saw the truth of what was out there. Your friend and her two companions had fangs, their fingernails turned to claws, their eyes changed color. You couldn’t believe what you saw, and you didn’t think werewolves could possibly be real. All of it felt so unbelievable.

Your eyes widened when you saw Dean get knocked to the ground. You didn’t know what to do but you could tell that Dean was starting to lose the fight. Everything in your was screaming to help him but you didn’t know how to fight these things. What if you did something wrong and Dean died because of you?

Still, as Dean was wrestling with one of the werewolves on the floor you saw him drop the gun and the weapon slid on the ground towards your door. This was your chance to do something. You just hoped that things wouldn’t go wrong.

You took in a deep breath before you opened the door wider and stepped out of the room.

Dean heard the door creaking open and he saw you standing there. Were you nuts?! What the hell were you doing?!

“Y/N! Get back inside!” He called out but he watched as you ignored him and rushed to get to the gun and you picked it up.

You could feel your heart beating fast and before you could think, you realized one of the wolves was coming after you and you aired the gun and you closed your eyes before you took a shot. When you opened one of your eyes, you saw that the werewolf was on the ground with a gunshot wound to the chest.

The werewolf above Dean was distracted by the gunshot and when the creature looked over at you, Dean took the opportunity take a shot and kick the werewolf off of him. Then, Dean rushed over to you while you were stunned about what you’ve done.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You did what you needed to, now go back to the room and I’ll finish up.” Dean said and you hesitantly nodded as you backed away and stayed in your room but you couldn’t help but to keep watching everything unfold in front of you.

You watched as Dean was fighting both Danielle and the other man she came with and Dean managed to shoot the man Danielle was with and she knocked out your former friend. The next thing you knew, Dean stood over the unconscious creature and shot her in the heart so she’d never wake up again.

You didn’t know what you should be feeling in that moment. Should you be angry that Danielle was never your friend, but a monster? Should you be angry that Dean had knocked out the person you thought was your ally?

When you slowly walked out of your bedroom again you walked over to your friend. You saw the claws on her fingers and her fangs still showed. You wondered if this was just some sort of never-ending nightmare. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do and it felt like you had been blind to so many things your entire life. Your world was turning upside down.

Dean saw the look on your face as you looked down at the corpse. He could tell you were questioning so many things right now and he never wanted things to be this way. He never wanted you to get wrapped up in this horrific bullshit of a hunting life and he never wanted you to know what was out there.

“Do you believe me now?” He asked softly, but you gave him no response.

“Y/N… I never wanted you to find out about any of this. That’s why I never told you much about my family or what we did.” He said in a gentler tone and you ran your fingers though your hair.

“Well now I know, Dean. I can’t just unsee everything that just happened.” You said softly and you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. You looked up and saw Dean looking up at you.

“Is it at least over now?” You asked.

“I’m not sure. It should be over if Danielle was the leader of this new pack, but I have to check with Sam if there were any indications of any other members of the pack and if he got in contact with Nelson again.” Dean replied and you looked back down at the body.

“She was the sweet one out of the three of us. She seemed so concerned about Callie when we hadn’t heard from her for several days… I never would’ve seen the attack coming.”

Dean frowned a little when you spoke, knowing all of this had to be a lot to take in for you.

“Let me call Sam and see if he’s got everything squared away on his end, if he was able to talk to Nelson and everything.” He said and you nodded as you walked away from the bodies and went to your bedroom again.

Dean watched you walking away, knowing your life was forever altered at this point. He pulled out his phone again and he dialed up Sam’s number. Luckily he didn’t need to wait long for an answer.

“Dean? Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah… turns out Danielle wasn’t as innocent as she lead on. She and two other wolves are dead.”

“How did Y/N take all of it? She alright?”

“Honestly I don’t know, Sammy… It might take her a little time with Danielle specifically. You get in contact with Nelson?”

“Well… yes and no.” Sam replied and Dean lifted a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Well when I tried calling him there was no answer. So I took a taxi to his house and when I walked in, it looked like another attack. I guess someone caught word that you were facing the new leader and they wanted to make sure the main goal was accomplished so it looks like they killed Nelson before I had the chance to talk to him.”

“Shit… so what does that mean? Do you think they’ll still go after people working in the bar?” Dean asked.

“I’m not so sure… I think we may need to stay a few days and lie low to see what happens. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” Sam insisted and Dean looked over at your bedroom and saw you sitting on the corner of your bed, disassociating because of everything that transpired.

“Yeah… That might the best option. You think you can swing by to help me take care of these bodies and get Y/N somewhere safe? You said the werewolves had addresses in that notebook right? I think she may need to stay with us for a few days just incase anyone tries to go after her again.” Dean insisted.

“Yeah, just give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.”

When Sam and Dean hung up, Dean walked over to the bedroom and towards you. He knelt in front of you and saw you were just spacing out and thinking of so many different things, he could practically see it on your face how lost you were.

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.” He said and he placed a hand on one of your knees, which broke your trance and you looked down at his hand then back at him.

“Dean… I’ve never even shot a gun at a person before… I just killed someone.” You said in such a timid little tone.

“Y/N, you’ve got to realize that wasn’t a person. None of them were. Not anymore. They would have killed you, your coworkers, and who knows who else they would have killed if you hadn’t helped stop them.”

“Danielle… was a person to me. I can’t believe she lied to me like that. Then again what the hell do I know about anything anymore. You must think I’m so stupid for not listening to you before.” You scoffed and your eyes started welling up with tears, one slipping from your face and you swiftly wiped it away.

“It’s natural to have doubts. I know what I was telling you is hard for a lot of people to believe. I wasn’t expecting you to believe me instantly. Stuff like this isn’t easy to take in.” he continued and you looked back at Dean again.

“What am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here? Am I going to get in trouble with the police? Surely my neighbors heard the gunshots.” You started to ramble.

“The cops are bound to show, but they still think Sammy and I are FBI agents. We claim self defense which unfortunately ended in fatalities.” Dean answered.

“You make it sound so simple.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Sweetheart.” Dean said before he moved his hand from your knee and he held one of your hands.

“But as far as beyond the police are concerned… We don’t know if there are more werewolves. So after Sam and I handle the police when they come, I think it would be better if you stayed with me and Sam. Just for a few days until we know there won’t be anymore attacks against you or any of your other coworkers. They have your address so we don’t think you’ll be safe here right now.” He continued.

You bit down on your bottom lip before you nodded a little, deciding to go with Dean after all. You didn’t exactly want to be alone after tonight, but maybe you’d be alright after a few days.

“Okay… Let me pack some clothes before I go with you.”

A few days went by and things seemed to settle down. You had found out Nelson passed away and the cops connected Danielle to the murders so they believed Dean’s claim of self defense. Not that you were really surprised. Dean seemed to be a pretty good liar when it came to the cops.

There weren’t anymore threats against you at least that you knew of, and now that it’s been a week of silence, Dean said it was safe for you to go back home and now you were riding with him in the impala.

The car ride was quiet, as if the both of you knew this week long journey was coming to a close and you weren’t sure if you would ever see him again. You wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t see him again, knowing he’d more than likely say the same things as he did in the argument before the attack. It was disheartening to know that Dean didn’t want to take a chance.

When the two of you made it to your apartment, it was like nothing had ever happened. Only because Sam and Dean went out of their way to clean up the bodies. Naturally some things did need some replacing like the vase, or the living room couch that had been splattered with blood, but you would get those things on your own since you had been looking into buying a new couch anyway. But it was sweet that Sam and Dean took it upon themselves to help as much as they could.

“Well… I guess this is the part where I take off.” Dean said and you looked over at him.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m a crummy cook but I can order something. My treat. It’s really the least I can do after you saved me and helped clean the place up after everything.” You insisted.

Lucky for you, Dean didn’t really put up much of a fight so he followed you into your home. Dean sat at one of the love seats since you no longer had a couch at the moment and you sat down on the recliner as you pulled out your laptop to see what you should order.

“Chinese sound alright to you?” You asked and Dean smiled a little.

“Whatever you want to order’s fine.” He replied and you pouted a little.

“Dean, this is supposed to be for you as a thank you. I need a little help here since I’m not exactly a mind reader.” You said and Dean let out a little chuckle before he tried to think.

“What about a burger and some fries?” He said then it was your turn to smirk.

“Diner food again? Sure.” You snickered, “Want anything else with that?”

“Maybe some pie.” Dean said and somehow you knew that was a must, considering he just went through a whole pie in three days during the week you stayed with them.

“Sure thing.” You insisted and you started placing the order online for delivery and a couple of minutes later, the order was completed.

“It should be here in thirty minutes or so.” You said, shutting your computer and you set it down on the coffee table.

“You know you didn’t have to order anything.” Dean replied and you smiled.

“Again, it’s the least I could do.” You insisted

You and Dean were watching a show just to think of how to kill some time but the two of you settled on some sort of cartoon. You and Dean couldn’t find anything decent so the Boomerang channel seemed to be a better option at least for the time being.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t… have to hit the road after today, do you?” You asked and Dean looked at you.

“Well… I mean that’s what I normally do with cases. I never really stay in the same place for a long time. There’s a lot more than just werewolves to worry about and… and well it’s better if Sam and I kept on moving.” He said, looking away from you even though he could still feel your gaze on him.

“Don’t you ever just slow down? Catch a break? Surely there are other hunters out there that can handle the stuff you do.” You said and Dean shook his head.

“Not really… the stuff Sam and I see… they’re pretty much apocalyptic and we can’t put that on anyone else. It’s our responsibility, our burden to bare and it’s a death sentence to bring anyone else into it.” He said and you scoffed a little, causing him to look at you again.

“What?”

“You and your liking for the coward’s way out.” You said, recalling the argument again when he gave a shitty excuse as to why he didn’t get close to people.

“It’s not a coward’s way, Y/N. It’s reality. You saw yourself what’s out there. And I’m risking a lot just being here right now.” He said and you rolled your eyes before you got up and went to your room.

Dean lifted a brow before he got up and followed you. When he did he noticed you were looking for something and he couldn’t help but tilt his head as he leaned against the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Looking for something.”

“I can see that.” He said and watched you pull out a box. He didn’t see a whole lot inside until you pushed it towards the end of the bed. That’s when he saw a few shirts and cassettes, mementos of that summer.

“You don’t realize how many lives you affect when you travel, Dean. I know I can’t possibly be the only girl you’ve come across just to leave behind. And from what I can tell, I’m not the only one that could have died but survived. But when you just leave people behind you take a piece of them with you and it’s like you don’t even realize it. You’re too blind with the whole idea of keeping your distance that you don’t realize the people you hurt along the way by not giving them a chance.”You began and Dean lifted a brow.

“Y/N, I’ve gave people chances and they still lose their lives. You’re right, you aren’t the only woman I’ve come across. But once I get too close they get killed. The last one got hurt severely so I had a friend erase her memory to forget everything about me. It’s to keep her safe and I can’t lose anyone else.” He told you.

“Do you realize how you’re making yourself sound, Dean?”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as hunting, you’re bound to be one of the strongest men that I know. Not that I know many- obviously. But what makes you a coward and what makes you selfish is the fact that you can’t allow yourself to be close to someone long enough to know if they’re willing to stay with you even if this life is tough. Hunting is scary shit, I know that now. But you don’t deserve to go through it alone. It’s unfair to you.” You said.

“I don’t deserve that sort of fairness. If you knew half the things I’ve done-“

“Do you think any of that matters to me, Dean?” You set the box down on the floor again before you walked towards him.

“I don’t know much of what you’ve done all these years, and I don’t know the pain you’ve gone through. But I know that no one should ever have to be alone like that. I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve been through a lot. You deserve to have someone by your side to at least give you some sort of relief from this life every once in a while, give you a break from your ‘apocalyptic’ stressors.” You said and took a bold move by taking one of his hands.

Dean looked down at your hand with his before lifting his gaze to meet your own.

“But what happens if you get hurt, or worse? I can’t stand that risk, not with someone like you.” He said gently and you sighed a little before you gave his hand a little squeeze.

“Didn’t you ever think about me accepting that risk? You can teach me a lot and I’m willing to learn. Obviously I won’t have as much experience as you and I never will, but you can teach me enough to defend myself so you won’t have to worry about me so much.” You were trying so hard to compromise and Dean could tell.

What seemed to surprise Dean the most was that you were actually willing to learn how to hunt. You were actually willing to be a part of this much shittier side of life. It was amazing that out of the choices you had, this was the one you were willing to make.

“What about your art? Or the bar?” He asked and you shrugged.

“I can still work on art. The bar was just to keep my lights on. And now that both my friends are dead… I don’t really have anything keeping me bartending.” You explained.

“But what if-“

“Stop with the what ifs and the hypotheticals. Please?” You said, practically begging him to stop trying to make excuses for you to not join him. You didn’t have anything left going for you here.

Dean looked down at the floor between both of you as he tried to think of his best options. So many things swirling through his head about how things could go wrong. How would be able to protect you? How quickly would you be able to learn everything he’d have to teach you? If anything they could always use the help with research while he and Sam were on the field. But what happens if you were researching while he and Sam were out on the field working and something happened to you while he wasn’t there?

You could practically see the gears turning in his mind with how so many things could go wrong and you reached up, touching his face gently.

“This is the kind of thing I’m talking about. You’re thinking about so much already. You have so much on your shoulders, I can see it.” You said softly and he started looking at you, gaze softening as he started to relax against your touch.

“You don’t deserve to carry that stress…” You whispered and leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, close to his mouth.

“Let me be at least some sort of distraction.” He listened to your voice barely above a whisper and he could barely feel your lips against his cheek.

Dean carefully moved his head and your faces were so close to each other. One small movement and he’d have his lips over yours if either of you simply leaned forward.

“Do you think you could handle everything you’d distract me from?” He asked, his mind slowly starting to open up to the idea of you coming along even if he still had an overwhelming reluctance within himself. Still, he felt your thumb lightly graze his cheekbone.

“I wouldn’t be asking to go with you if I wasn’t willing to try. I could never fathom everything. You’ve been through, but I can try to make it easier even if it’s for a moment.”

Dean tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as if he were still thinking about it before he lifted a hand and brought it to the back of your neck. He felt the way you seemed to melt into him but all he could think of was how he let Jo and Lisa down.

“Please… just give me a chance.” Your voice broke him from his thoughts, or at least a strand of them. Only to start a new strand.

Dean started to think of the two weeks he spent with you. Those two weeks he had never felt so normal, even happy because of you. It was like the hunting world hadn’t even existed for that amount of time when he was with you even if he was supposed to be working on a job. Seeing you happy and realizing he could make the world safe, make sure you were safe, that’s what gave him the reason to hunt that summer. He thought back to the drawing you had given him, knowing he had never forgotten you over the years and knew he never could. He remembered the way you made him feel and a part of him now was screaming not to let you go like that again. John wasn’t in the picture anymore to lecture him like a child about who he told about hunting. He was a grown man and you were a grown woman, and you were begging him to take you along. He knew you were capable after watching you kill one of the werewolves when you were attacked. So why shouldn’t you come along?

He remembered just how Jo passed, how so many others have passed and who he’s lost and his jaw tightened for a moment.

“You have to promise me that you’ll listen to everything I tell you on a hunt, swear that you’ll listen to every precaution Sam and I tell you. When there is a plan, you stick to the plan so you don’t get hurt.” He said, tone stern with a certain gentleness about it.

You softened, realizing that he’d likely be so cautious with you and you wondered just how many people he’s lost with this life. But you knew that’s something you might never know. You could tell it was taking a lot for him to even think about you coming along.

“Promise.” You swore.

Dean then leaned down and he was so close to pressing his lips on yours. Your noses barely brushed against each other with how close he was and eat somehow he was already at ease. He didn’t know exactly what made it so easy, but it had felt like ages since he was able to feel this calm, decades since his mind finally slowed down just because of a small action like this.

The abrupt sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted the moment and the both of you pulled away before you had the chance to kiss. The voice on the other side of the door alerted you that it was just the delivery guy. He heard the way you sighed with a little irritation and he cracked a small smile at the reaction.

He let go of you so you could tend to the guy at the door. After you paid the guy you set the food on the coffee table just as he was walking out of your bedroom. You were in the process of pulling everything out of the plastic bags but Dean kept his gaze on you.

“I’m not kidding, though.” Dean said, his mind going back to the roller coaster it always was, but you gazed up at him.

“I know you’re serious. I’m not a child, Dean. I’ll be careful, but you and Sam will still need to teach me a few things. Plans have to change sometimes and we have to adapt. Nothing in life is cut and dry so you’ll have to trust me to take care of myself too.” You said, and that was the part Dean may have the issue with at least for a while.

“That… may take me a little time to do.” He warned and you walked over and handed him the bag with his burger in it.

“Naturally.” You replied and he was surprised you were taking this so well.

“I’m not expecting things to be smooth right away and for you to be so nonchalant with me on a hunt. So long as you’ll eventually be able to trust me on these things, then it’ll be fine. I’m a bit of a fast learner so we’ll get there eventually.” You promised before you sat down.

Dean listened and smiled slightly. He knew you’d need that determination. It’d be a good thing to have especially when he and Sam were both so close to having enough when it came to facing demons and angels. But trust.. he knew that would be the biggest thing he’d need to work on.

Dean knew he could trust you with certain things. He could trust your willingness to learn, trust your ability to adapt to a changed plan quickly, but he didn’t trust other factors of a case and when things would inevitably go wrong. Maybe the more you’d be around, the more he’d get better at that.

Either way… it would be nice to have you around, at least to let him forget about his own personal hell once in a while.

“You gonna join me or am I going to have to eat and watch Scooby Doo by myself?” You asked, breaking Dean away again. He smiled before he walked over to join you in the living room where you moved the seats closer to the coffee table.

One day it will be easier to let his worries go, easier to let the weight on his shoulders get a little lighter, and Dean hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d be the one that could help him along that journey.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @leigh70 @nk1023

[lampthehealthminister]

The sun's light reaches even the darkest depths

Synopsis : Aventurine has a vicious snake in his head, but your voice always chases it away.

Warnings : Spoilers for Aventurine's backstory! It's just references, but maybe some people haven't played the quest yet, you never know lol ; Also intrusive thoughts?? Perhaps?? I'm not sure tbh

Genre : Hurt/Comfort??? Sorta??? ; x reader fic

Word count : 1.2k yoohoo

Notes : I haven't written a fic in more than a year... Forgive me if I'm rusty, but I just love this man so much ugh. Might make a part two from reader's pov this time because I've got lots of ideas!! Do give me advice if you think I should improve some stuff!! You can also request something if you like my writing <3

Even when he steps foot in the comfort of his home, the knot settled in his throat does not go away. Worse, when he inhales the smell of spices, it chokes him even more. (He wonders if you thought about him when cooking, and the idea of him lingering on your mind for longer than he should makes him want to cry.) He removes his coat, trying his best to think about something else as he hears your footsteps approaching. (Are you finally going to yell at him and push him away today?)

“Welcome back, ‘rine.”

Luckily, you greet him when he’s still removing his shoes, giving him enough time to build his composure back up. (How could he face you otherwise?) When he stands back up and meets your eyes, he is once again reminded of exactly why he is so drawn to you. (He knows it’s wrong, but he is helpless against it. Like a moth attracted to a flame, he can’t help but want to stay in your light for a little longer still.)

“It’s good to be back home.” (“I missed you.” he wants to say, but he can’t afford getting too attached to you, just like it’s not good for you to get too close to him.)

He wants to take a step forward, wants to fall into your arms and hide away from everyone and everything else ; but his feet are glued in place, and the weight in his chest is heavier than ever. His throat feels dry, his palms are sweaty, and for a split second he worries that you’ll start asking questions, that you’ll worry, that you’ll take his face in your hands and envelop him in your embrace, wrap him in a soft cocoon of gentleness and care and everything else that he doesn’t deserve. (Has the air always been so suffocating?)

He jumps as the sound of an alarm resonates through the air. He watches you scurry off to the kitchen and exhales a sigh of relief. (Did you notice how he almost lost himself just now? Did you see him bare, his soul completely exposed as his own body failed to obey him? Or did he successfully manage to trick you once more, just as he does with everyone else? He doesn’t know what he prefers.) He steps forward, inhaling once more. The scent of a foreign spice tickles his senses, and the name of it sits on the tip of his tongue, present but not fully here, an image and a distant memory.

It’s only at dinner, when he takes a bite of the food you’ve made, (The voice in the back of his head tells him he doesn’t deserve it, but he would hate to see you upset.) that he recognises it, the name shining bright like a lightbulb in his mind, a single piece of thread that he’s managed to get a hold of. He opens his mouth to tell you, but the silence in the room shuts him up. No words fill up the space, and he finds the quiet unsettling, cold, a shiver running down his spine at the thought. But most of all, he is worried about you. Why aren’t you saying anything? You usually tell him all about your day, about the things you’ve seen, about the plans you’ve made with other people, so why is today different? (Can you no longer bear to entertain him now that you’ve seen how ugly he is on the inside? Have you had enough of his theatrics, of his games, of him? He tells himself that he won’t stop you if you leave, but he knows he will always wake up in the morning thinking you’re still by his side.)

He finally dares looking up at you, worried that he’ll find your seat empty. Maybe you were never there to begin with, maybe you’ve already left long ago? Maybe he’s grown so attached to your love that he imagines you greeting him every day, feeding him every day, holding him every day. Maybe the house is so cold because you’re simply no longer there, because he can’t bask in your light anymore. (It’s just what he deserves, so he shouldn’t complain. He’s always been too selfish with you, after all. Always about taking, never about giving, because he can’t afford to show all of his cards, even with you.)

“What are you thinking about, ‘rine?”

Your voice snaps him out of his daze. The first thing that invades his mind is the fact that you’re here. He suddenly feels warm all over, like his heart is being cradled by gentle arms, like his soul is being taken care of by a kind gaze. (Did Kakavasha feel like that, too? Was it when his sister held his hand, when his mother kissed him on the forehead for the first time?) This time, he can’t prevent his real thoughts from tumbling out of his lips.

“You.”

The expression that graces your face rivals even the Mother Goddess’ blessings, he thinks. As if his word was a prayer, you light up even more than before, gently coating him in your warmth. (How did he even manage to find someone like you?) You smile at him so openly, so genuinely, like you’re not afraid to show him what you feel ; and every time, he falls for it, for you, even harder than he should. You reach for his left hand, and he hopes you don’t feel how his pulse is fluttering under his skin, how his heart is racing just by being in your presence. He loves you. Even if it’s dangerous, even if you leave him, even if he hurts you. Right now, he loves you, and it’s as sickening as it’s sweet, sticking to his lungs like golden honey. 

That night, he watches as the moon traces a serpentine path of light on your skin. You’re talking to him, keeping him company as he ties all the strings of sleep together slowly. You still hold his hand in yours, and despite having long since removed his gloves, he can’t get enough of your touch. Even now, you look at him in that special way, with that gaze only reserved for him, and yet he doesn’t recognise the emotion that lingers in it. He doesn’t have time to think too much about it either, because exhaustion is dragging him down. Like an anchor, it pulls at his feet, forces him down in the dark even if he hates it. He squeezes your hand tighter, a desperate attempt to stay afloat, but he’s already too far gone in the depths, your image only a distorted reflection above the water. If he doesn’t come back from there, he’ll at least imprint all of the details of your face in his mind one last time.

Even while he sleeps, you don’t let him go. You hold him close, look at the way his features relax. You gaze at him with an adoration he never notices, doesn’t want to see. Words scratch at his walls, make him feel vulnerable, tear him apart from the inside out, so you never use them. You only hold his hand and lead him somewhere else, so that even if he is lost, he doesn’t have to look far to find his way home again.

[simmervlogs]

Wentworth Manor

Hello Simmers, get ready for a game of Beer Pong at the Wentworth Manor . A former family home converted into a Fraternity. This is a requested build which I was so excited to do! I would also like to say a massive thank you to all you guys for your support- we just hit 8k on Tiktok!

Fraternities have been impacted by the increase of off-campus housing starts in recent years. The Wentworth's examined their existing house and determined that for them to remain competitive, they needed to upgrade and increase their common amenity space.

In this area, most houses were built in the 1920s and early ’30s, affording a certain unity in design and volume, although many were altered in the post-war years. Most followed one of two architectural styles of the period—Collegiate Tudor/Gothic or Georgian Revival. This property includes a spacious foyer, 5 bedrooms, large bathroom, traditional kitchen, entertainment room, library and a casual living and dinning room. Th backyard also accommodates for a pool and deck for outdoor cooking. While majority of the features have been maintained by the Wentworth's, each student is more than free to decorate their own spaces as they see fit.

Would also like to say thank you to @alexissimsblog for her idea and name!

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders convenience ONLY.

Laundry Day, High School Years, Discover University and Bust the Dust kit required for items I have included from the game, CC as well as some recolors included in the folder (function as a frat house).

There are CC items which are not included- please download these separately!

Utopya- Pool table

Bbygyal123- Martini, corkboard

Joyce- Simple living (all), Forever autumn (all), Summer garden (all)

Sixam- Home office (all), Private school (all), Lavant bathroom (all), Rustin Art studio (all), Home improvement (all)

AFS- all (alcohol décor)

Taurus Design- Judith living room (all)

Harrie- Coastal (all), Country (all), Spoons (all), Octave (all), Brownstone (all), Shop the look (all), Halycon (all), Kichen 2.0 (all), Orjanic (all)

House of Harlix- Jardane (all), Livin Rum, Harluxe (all), Baysic (all)

Felixandre- Grove (all), Colonial (all), Goth revival (all), Berlin (all), Florence (all), Shop the look (all), Chateau (all), Georgian (all), Fayun (terrain), Soho (all), Paris (all)

Valia- Baker's collection (all)

Tuds- Cross (all), Ind (all), NCTR (all)

Awingedllama - Boho living

CharlyPancakes- Sleepyhead (all), Soak (all), Smol (all), Lighthouse (all), Lavish (all)

Myshunosun- Art room (all),Garden stories Patio (all), Simmify Guitar, Dawn living

Max20- Garden at home, Southern Bedroom

Peacemaker- Hinterlands (all), Hudson bathroom (all)

Pierisim- Stefan (all), Tidying up (all), Pantry Party (all), Domaine Du Clos (all), MCM (all), Coldbrew (all), Auntie Vera Bathroom (all), Oak house (all), Woodland Ranch (all), Combles (all), David's apartment (all), Winter Garden (all), Unfold (all), The office (all), Outside (all), Precious Promise (all)

SYB- Highschool (all), Cheap & Chipped (all), Alaferme (all), Happy Stairways (all), Oh la la (all), Loce is in the air (all), Attic (all), Painter Studio (all), Plouf (all), Loft (all), Life Bathroom

Dust Bunny- Laundry (all)

ClassicPixels -Ralph Lauren Throw pillows

Lilli's Place- Folklore (all)

MROLKAN- Pool recolours

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Brindleton Bay (40x40 lot)

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

DOWNLOAD (Patreon)

[theladycarpathia]

@hellcheeranniversaryweek Day Seven - Making it big in LA

The handle falls off the cupboard when Chrissy tries to open it. 

She stares at the piece of wood in her hands and then back up to the cupboard. It’s fine. She probably didn’t need salt anyway. It’s not like it’s going to improve dinner all that much. 

She frowns and tries to dig her nails to pry the cupboard open. It doesn’t give, thoroughly trapping all of her seasoning and any chance of making Eddie something decent to come home to. 

“Great,” she mutters, abandoning the handle on the surface. “Another thing for our landlord to not fix.” 

Eddie might be able to fix it when he gets home. If he ever gets home. He actually had a job today, a paying job, even though it’s not much. With Corroded Coffin still struggling to get their big break, he’s been picking up other jobs. Teaching people guitar isn’t his favorite thing to do but at least it pays. 

Chrissy was home early from her shift at the diner. She’d had a vague idea of making a stew with some leftover meat but clearly that’s not gonna happen. She opens another cupboard - seriously hoping this one also doesn’t break - and stares inside. Instant ramen it is. 

They have eggs and some vegetables left in the fridge so Chrissy resists doing a little skip and gets to work.  Wayne gave them a few useful tools when they moved out here. Eddie can get the handle back on and she can do the stew tomorrow. 

She chops mushrooms, garlic, and scallions, wondering if they have anything else she can add. They used most of their savings moving and getting this apartment so she learned how to improve instant ramen and microwave meals pretty quickly. The other girls at the diner are usually a big help, offering her tips on living cheaply and where to get the best stuff. She’s not used to not having money…but it’s not like her parents were willing to help her - what was it Laura said? - ‘ruin her life.’ 

It had been a bumpy start, lying on their blow up mattress, listening to the noise outside, the constant dripping of the bathroom tap. Eddie had been asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the several days of driving, all of their stuff crammed into the back of the van. She’d flinched at every sound, pressing as closed as she dared into Eddie’s side, wondering if she’d made the right choice. 

She had, but for that split second of uncertainty and fear, she’d almost been ready to run back home. To the safety and comfort of the Cunningham house, and the control that was the price for it all. 

But then Eddie had rolled over to pull her into his arms, still half asleep, and all of those fears had just faded away. 

They’re going to make it. That’s why Corroded Coffin came to LA, packing up their lives and every cent of their savings. Grant, Gareth and Jeff share another apartment - the original plan had been for Eddie to live with them too, all four of them crammed into two bedrooms to save costs. But then Eddie had met her. Hadn’t wanted to go without her. Even if life was going to be harder affording living costs just the two of them, he’d wanted to do it. 

She’s never had that before. Someone choosing to be with her over everything.

It got easier. Their apartment is still a little bare. It’s cramped and hot and stuff always breaks but it’s theirs. She doesn’t know what she wants to do but it’s probably not work in a diner. It pays the bills for now and maybe when Corroded Coffin is on their way to stardom, she can figure out what she wants to do too.

There’s the sound of a key in the door, just as Chrissy puts some water on for the noodles. Eddie staggers in the door, looking tired, but his face lights up when he sees her. 

“How was your day?” he says, crossing their tiny living room to get to their even smaller kitchen. He puts his guitar down on their sagging, rescued from the kerb couch, and ducks his head as he comes through the archway.

“The handle broke,” Chrissy explains, gesturing to the offending item. “I had to change our dinner plans.”

“I can fix it,” Eddie says immediately and turns around to wash his hands. Chrissy tips the noodles into the water and keeps an eye on her boiling eggs. 

He gets down the bowls and cutlery, while she strains noodles and carefully adds her extra topping. Eddie finds a few packets of soy sauce and they carry their dinner into the living room. Chrissy sinks onto the couch with a sigh and balances her bowl on her legs so that she can rip open one of the packets. She’s found that no matter what she cooks - cheap or improvised or how many days leftover - anything can be improved with the right condiments. She lifts what she can from the diner and Grant works part-time at a buffet and slips them whatever he has extra in exchange for the good mayonnaise packets. 

Back in Hawkins, she hadn’t known that there was even such a thing. 

Eddie devours half the bowl in record time, licking broth off his lips. “Thanks,” he says, scooping up mushrooms with his fork. “I needed this.”

“Rough day?” she asks and Eddie just gives a huff of laughter. 

“Bad enough,” he says. “Kid has no interest in learning music but his folks are paying me so I gotta try anyway. And we were supposed to have a slot playing at this bar downtown on Tuesday but the organizer called today and basically said we got bumped off the list to make space for someone more important. Which at this point is anyone else. We’re not high up the totem pole.”

“One day you will be,” Chrissy insists, working through her bowl at a much slower pace. “One day that guy will be saying to his friends that he had the chance to book Corroded Coffin before they got big and what a mistake he made.”

Eddie drops his fork into his bowl, splattering broth across his jeans, so that he can take her hand. 

“Chrissy Cunningham, one day I will buy you the biggest house, with a huge kitchen and a pool and a bathroom with taps that work,” he says fiercely. Chrissy blinks at him. She’s not sure what happened today but she can guess that whatever it was, it was enough to cause a crisis of faith. It’s hard being here, and she already went through her’s. Besides, it’s his dream on the line. One day, maybe they’ll have to slink home to Hawkins, just another band that never made it further than dive bars or birthday parties. But Chrissy hopes that’s not the future for them. 

“I know you will,” she says. “But I don’t need it.”

“You deserve it,” Eddie says softly and kisses her knuckles. “Seriously. I’m talking about a sauna and six bedrooms.”

“What will we do with six bedrooms?” Chrissy asks, bemused, and Eddie grins. 

“Fill them?” he suggests and she flushes. 

“One day,” she agrees, because they’ve never really talked about this before. There’s so much to do first. But she thinks she’d like that. There’s not much point to living in a big house when it’s just the two of you. Her family these days consists of Eddie, Uncle Wayne, and the band. Maybe one day, there will be more.

He clinks his fork against hers and nods at her bowl. “Finish your dinner.”

She scoops another load of noodles into her mouth and tries to let some of the stress out of her shoulders. 

“We’ll be okay,” Eddie says, pressing the warmth of his thigh against her’s. 

“Of course we will,” Chrissy says in surprise. For whatever doubts she has, whatever fears, she knows that it will all work out. Whether it’s here, in LA, listening to shouting on the street and the distant wail of sirens, or if it’s back in the trailer park in Hawkins, trying to scrape enough money together to get their own place, they’ll be okay. “We have each other.”

[opossumprints]

You're Weird--Im Weirder Pt. 4

part 1, part 2, part 3,

Steve has a decision to make. 

The last time he gave a gift to Eddie, he was in a bit of a panic. He had a tiny window of opportunity last time because the object of his attraction was too far away to be safe about it. The whole ordeal almost ended in disaster and with Steve without his favorite pair of shorts. He was lucky, Eddie went off somewhere and Steve got lucky. Steve would be damned to be caught off guard again. 

That still leaves him with options. Due to the slightly more flirty nature of last time’s pair, Steve’s slow increase in his teasing had jumped forward in the planned escalation. Either Steve pretends it didn't happen or… 

Steve could try to rile Eddie up. The idea makes him warm and wriggly, and he has the perfect pair to get the job done.

When Steve took Robin out to replace last week’s casualty, he walked away with a bit more than planned.  The new pair are more reminiscent of girls' panties than shorts, high cut with dainty patterns. In truth they’re one of the few pairs that make Steve blush. 

If all goes well Steve might even land himself a date. 

When Sunday rolls around Steve is prepared. Sudsy’s is near completely empty today, Eddie is there of course chatting politely to the laundromat’s owner Pam. Steve takes a deep breath before entering and waves jollily at the pair. 

So far so good. Steve manages to secure the machine next to Eddie’s (it's easy to tell with the sheer amount of band tees) and hurriedly starts the first load. That’s the easy part. The trick is a carefully timed tug below the waistband of his jeans as he bends down to dump in e washing soda. When he leans back Steve slips his thumbs into the waistband and stealthily two thin and dainty straps over his hips. 

After readjusting his shirt Steve is certain that it’s not noticeable to the average passer-by unless Steve lets them notice. 

Now all Steve has to do is wait. 

It all has to play out perfectly, has to go just right, He can't afford another fumble. To keep himself in place and hopefully prevent him from doing anything stupid, Steve sits down in front of one of the empty machines.  

In a stroke of luck Eddie wanders over without prompting. Which considering how Steve wasn't able to actually get near Eddie last time is a nice improvement. 

Eddie is wearing the butchered remains of a plain black T-shirt. It’s been cut into a tank top with the sides cut low, it's even got a few artistically cut holes that show off peeks of skin that Steve is trying really hard not to stare at. Unfortunately redirecting his gaze leads to Steve staring at where the shirt has naturally ridden up and Eddie’s low swung sweatpants don’t cover.  

“Hey” Eddie says, voice gruff. Steve's head snaps up, fuck he’s caught. He must look startled because Eddie raises an eyebrow “good morning?” The way Eddie says in a kind of prompting, almost sarcastically demanding, tone makes something stir within Steve. He can imagine them out with friends and Eddie teasing him in that tone; say hello Stevie, be a good boy. Steve manages to save himself from further embarrassment and respond with his own good morning. 

“Sorry we didn't get to talk last week” Steve says after a beat, “you're really fun to talk to and I missed it” he smiles for good measure. Eddie’s eyebrows disappear even further into his hairline (which is mostly just impressive instead of sassy) and he grins slow and easy.

“Dwaww you missed me!” Eddie drawls teasingly, his tone reminiscent of someone talking to their dog when they get home. “Don’t let your buddies hear that or you’ll never hear peace.” 

Steve fights the blush trying to bloom across his cheeks and nods.

wait …

“What buddies?” Steve wonders. He tilts his head despide the twinge in his neck from looking both up and sideways. “Do you mean robin?” Seriously, who is Eddie talking about? Perhaps its the honest look in Steve’s eyes but Eddie is taken aback for a second before he shrugs so Steve lets it go.

The taller boy nudges Steve with his foot good naturedly before unloading his machine. It’s really nice to continue the routine of chatting while doing laundry together. 

If it weren't for Eddie pausing awkwardly mid conversation every once and a while (and the fact there is a very public very dingy laundromat) Steve can imagine them goofing off together in a home they share. It’s so easy to imagine them bumping hips while folding towels and distracting each other with kisses while loading the dryer. Steve can imagine how easy it would be for Eddie to lift him on to the machine and pin him in place so eddie can–

“Dude your loads done” Eddie (the real one) buts in to Steve’s day dream 

“Yeah it is” Steve breaths huskily 

“What?”

“What?” 

Steve looks up at Eddie and blinks up at him innocently. In a way it's just part of the plan, not at all Steve being a complete idiot, not one bit.  

The impromptu staring contest ends when Steve gracefully and elegantly clambers back up on two legs like a concussed baby deer. 

Steve pops open the laundry machine door and leans in to start grabbing clothes. Just as planned, his too loose shirt slides up (forward?) and reveals the criss cross straps over Steve’s hips. 

It's the boldest thing Steve has ever worn. From the front it's just a normal (if not incredibly skin tight) pair of pajama shorts, but the sides, the sides are a whole nother story. Instead of sides there is a lattice of straps that criss-cross up his thighs and over his hips, squeezing the softness that rests there. 

And now Eddie is getting an eyeful. 

Steve rights himself after unceremoniously plopping a handful of shirts and a sock back into his laundry basket and risks a glance at Eddie. The other boy is bright red and has his shoulders by his ears. Steve could pretend Eddie looks bashful if it weren't for the deep want he sees in the others eyes. Instead he throws the rest of the plan out the window.

The plan was to let Eddie sneak a peek before slipping away for a quick change so he could drop his gift in Eddie’s clothes. But why go through all that when Steve could just lean into his space, look at him through his lashes and wet his lips. 

“Hey Eddie?” Steve coos, blinking languidly, “I really like when we hang out” he shifts even closer to Eddie to bring them nose to nose. Steve can feel Eddie's breath catch in his chest and grins sweetly. “Do you want to come to my place? Nobody’s home so I would love to have some company.” 

Apparently Eddie’s words are failing him because the boy nods rapidly and with enthusiasm instead. 

Later when they lay cuddled together in bed Steve thinks he could never be happier. Eddie lounges on his back with Steve draped over him, head resting on his chest, and with his arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso. 

“Hey Steve?” Eddie murmurs, running a hand up and down his lovers back idly tracing the constellations along his spine.

“Yeah?” he sighs dreamily in response. Steve turns his head to meet Eddie’s gaze and feels himself go gooey; he could stay like this forever. Being snuggled against the man he has loved from afar for so long feels so right. 

“I have something to tell you, and I really hope you can forgive me.” Eddie says cautiously. Oh no, Steve shifts onto his elbows and pushes himself to sit. 

Steve feels his worry pinch at his face and knit his eyebrows together. He worries his lip between his teeth for only a moment before he can bring himself to speak. 

“Eddie? what’s wrong?” Was he only an experiment for Eddie, is that what he's going to say? Is he going to be told this was a one time thing? Steve feels guilt tugging at his spine, Eddie is his own person Steve should respect it if that's the case not dread and despise the thought, should leave it be if that's what Eddie wants. 

Eddie steels himself with a steadying breath and meets Steve’s gaze. Eddie is trying to sooth him, rubbing up Steve’s arms and supporting his elbows. He’s so sweet; being open and honest and breaking his heart, but he’s still trying to help steve. Holding him and supporting him because he’s so sweet and he cares. Steve cares for him too, whatever he says Steve will honor because he cares for Eddie, loves him enough to let him go. 

“For the past couple weeks I have been stealing your underwear” 

Steve collapses in a fit of giggles. Oh he feels so bad but he does. He’s so relieved and it's so funny, he can't bring himself to feel sorry for Eddie’s confusion or for the noise he lets out when Steve’s weight plops back on top of him. 

Steve tilts his face and peppers happy kisses along Eddie's jaw. 

“Bu���but Stevie? You’re not mad?” 

Gleeful giggles bubble up from Steve’s chest once more 

“I’ve been giving them to you!” he gasps “of course i’m not mad!”

Eddie's hands are still in the air, supporting the memory of Steve's arms that just slipped from his gentle hold. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you, Steve Harrington, for the past several weeks have been slipping me your underwear!” Eddie blurts incredulously. 

“Yes!” Steve giggles “I was trying to flirt!” he knows Eddie cant see his eye roll but knows deep down Eddi can sense his amused exasperation. 

Eddie flounders a bit, flapping his mouth open and closed. 

“And they call me a freak!” Eddie is giggling now too.

“baby “ Steve smirks “your weird but I’m weirder”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I am so deeply, incredibly, sorry this took so long. The fanfic author curse kicked in and my internet tried to kick the bucket. I've been writing this thing in literally thirty-minute intervals because of that and I thought it was fixed but no! It took another two full days to get back on track. I managed in the end and got this part finished and that's all that I really care about in the end.

I really hope you guys enjoy it!

@slv-333, @jaytriesstrangerthings, @ajeff855, @stellasapiente, @croatoan-like-its-hot

[deathbystero]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨

𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐠𝐞 (𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟑𝟔) - 𝟏𝟖 𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 - 𝟏𝟗𝟏𝟖

Marko grew up in the early 1900s with his mother and siblings in a little house in Italy. He knew very little about his father for the man had died in a work related incident a little after he was born and his mother never seemed very open to discuss the topic further.

The family lived in poverty, rarely able to scrape together enough money from their meagre wages to feed everyone, and more often than not, there was no food at all. Marko did what he could to help out, but it was always down to his older siblings to bring in the money. At times, he was left feeling rather helpless, as if he was just an afterthought,  an unwanted burden on his mother's shoulders. He was another mouth to feed, another being to clothe and shelter. 

When there was nobody home, his siblings were usually forced to take him along when they went into town to sell their wares. As far as Marko knew, none of them ever made much money. His mother would make her own way in the world by sewing dresses and selling whatever she could find but it wasn’t enough. 

Eventually, when Marko had just turned thirteen, the dreaded letter came through the post, giving the family a month’s notice to pack up everything they owned before they were evicted and forced out onto the streets. It was a cold hard truth that had been long awaited, one that everyone in the family had known was coming but which none of them had truly believed. 

His siblings hadn’t stuck around, running off to start new lives just days before the eviction, while Marko was forced to stay behind, clinging to his mother like a scared child. She couldn’t afford to pay rent on even the cheapest of places and they didn’t have any relatives willing to let them stay over until they could get back onto their own feet again. So, with little left to offer, they packed whatever items they had left and ended up on the streets, surviving on the bare minimum. 

Marko's mother found a job washing dishes at a small inn, spending the money she made on alcohol and drinking herself into oblivion every night. He was forced to watch helplessly as she fell apart, unable to do anything other than be there for her as best he could, cleaning up after her and keeping her safe at night. 

While she was at work, Marko roamed the streets, stealing whatever he could get his hands on and eating what scraps he could find. He found himself hating his siblings, hating the idea that they'd gotten away so easily while he was stuck here with no money and an alcoholic mother to take care of. They were lucky. He wasn’t. 

One evening in August,when Marko was sixteen, his mother disappeared, never returning from work. He had tried searching for her, running up and down the streets like a lost puppy, wailing and calling out for her, but it was futile. The woman was gone and he was alone.

He returned back to their pitiful shelter and wept into the night, praying desperately that someone would come for him, would care for him. That night, he cried himself to sleep,  exhausted and starving, whilst he dreamt up a carefully formulated plan; a plan to flee the country and start anew. 

There was a boat, Marko discovered, set to leave early the next morning, taking both cargo and passengers to America. It was his only chance and so he grasped it  eagerly, leaving their sorry shelter behind in search of freedom and adventure.

He snuck his way into the storage hold where the ship was docked and hid under a blanket until dawn broke, the ship pulling away from land and taking him away from the only place he’d ever known and to somewhere entirely foreign. He held onto the hope that maybe things would improve once he found his way there, but deep down he knew he was being foolish. He was a sixteen year old boy, underfed and poor, who hardly spoke a word of English and had no family to fall back onto if all things went downhill. What could he possibly expect to find?  A life amongst strangers would not give him a better chance than he already had, who wouldn't spare him an ounce of pity even if he begged on his hands and knees? What was he thinking? He had to have been totally crazy. No sane person in his right mind would risk their life like this. And yet, here he was still trying. Still trying his hardest to make something of himself. 

The ship docked in America about a week after it’s departure, and Marko was greeted with a strange mix of excitement and dread. He'd been expecting something akin to Europe, but what lay before him was anything but glamorous or fantastical. He felt completely at odds with the people that walked past him,  some laughing and chattering loudly, others barely sparing him a passing glance. He was surrounded by strangers and so incredibly out of place. If anyone should've noticed him in the crowd, they gave no indication of it as they continued talking and laughing and chatting around him with equal gusto, unaware of his plight. 

He wandered about the bustling streets for hours, eventually finding an alleyway to curl up in and wait out his hunger pangs. He’d found very little food on the boat, taking what he could from crates and boxes without  much thought, not caring if he was eventually caught. His clothes were dirty and tattered, worn thin and threadbare, his shoes covered in dirt and grime, and he was positively sure he looked absolutely deplorable. Biting his lip against his inevitable tears, he buried his face into his knees,  hugging himself tightly, shivering violently. Sleep seemed like a far off thing,  impossible to come by as his thoughts kept circling around how utterly hopeless he felt, how utterly alone he was.

It wasn’t until several days later that his luck seemed to change, a not so dim light appearing at the end of the tunnel. He'd found a little abandoned warehouse full of art supplies; crates of leftover paint, paint brushes which had certainly seen better days, and canvases, most of which were torn and tattered, but usable nonetheless. 

Marko has gathered up everything he could get his hands on, seeing an opportunity to make some cash, and spent almost the entire day painting whatever came to mind. He was surprised at himself - he didn't remember the last time he painted, but somehow this was different.  Like he was drawing for the first time, like he was creating something entirely new. There was a sense of wonder that he couldn't explain, an awe he hadn't known since childhood. This wasn't about making money. This was about finding himself. 

When he finally emerged from the building, covered head to toe in brightly coloured paint stains and tired from lack of sleep, he decided he might as well try his best at selling what he had created, knowing that nothing else would provide him with any kind of income. It didn't matter that he lacked experience with art, that he was untrained. The paintings were his ticket. The only way out of this misery he lived in. 

And so he set about selling everything he had, working his hardest, desperate to make every penny count. And, boy, did people pay. It was almost comical at how careless the rich were with their money, throwing it at him with no regard as to what it might go towards, as long as they got whatever it was they wanted in return.

Marko was soon able to afford enough money for food and clothes, settling into the little warehouse and sleeping on an old uncomfortable mattress stuffed into one corner, surrounded by crates of paint and brushes.

He took pride in the fact that he had made something of himself, having managed to carve out his own niche with a little bit of paint and a couple of worn out brushes. He felt good about the fact that he had managed to become somebody, somebody who had a purpose, somebody that mattered in the world. 

When he turned 18, Marko took to wandering a little further into the city, searching for inspiration and finding plenty. It became routine for him;  he worked late nights painting whenever he was able, waking up with the sun so that he could spend the morning wandering before returning to paint once more. He sold his creations out on the streets, bought  meals and slept rough. He was happy. He felt complete. He should've been happy, content with his living situations, besides it was more than he'd ever thought he'd have, and yet he still felt as if something was missing. That loneliness still lingered, that hollow feeling that wouldn't go away. 

In November of his third year on the streets, Marko met two men whilst out wandering at night, shaking off the disturbance of a rather unpleasant nightmare. 

The first of the two was blonde, his hair messy in a styled kind of way, with piercing blue eyes and sharp, handsome features. The second was tall with dark hair and a strong jawline, seemingly just as striking as his friend. Both were dressed entirely in black and approached Marko much in the same way a predator would its prey, a smile adorning each of their faces. 

“Can I help you?” Marko asked quietly, his accent thick and heavy, despite his best efforts to hide it. 

The blonde one grinned, “You’re a runaway, aren’t you, kid?”

Marko hesitated for a brief moment, weighing up his options before nodding slowly.

The man reached out a gloved hand, offering to shake, “I’m David.”

“Marko,” Marko replied quietly, shaking his hand.

David nodded, seemingly satisfied. His friend said nothing. “Where are your parents?”

“My mother's dead…” At least that’s what he thought. 

“Your father?” David pressed.

“Dead too…”

“So… it’s just you then?” David questioned, tilting his head slightly. Marko nodded, looking down at the pavement. What did these guys want? Money, drugs, sex? Who knows, but Marko certainly wasn’t too keen on finding out. 

“Hey,” This time, it was  the other man, the brunette one, who reached forward, his hand landing upon Marko's shoulder. “We ain't here to hurt you, kid. We're here to help.”

Help?  Marko furrowed his brow.  “I don't need no help.” “Of course not,” David interjected before the boy could say any more, “But that doesn't mean we can’t offer it. You're young, lost and all alone in this world. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a friend or two?” 

A friend...  That’s what he’d been seeking, someone to rely on. Someone to show him that he wasn't completely alone in this. But was it really possible for him to turn to these strangers, especially after everything he'd been through so far? Could he trust them? They were probably just playing a trick on him. They'd probably planned to kill him and leave his body somewhere and never bother him again. So why should he believe them?

“Look,” David began, “I know we seem shady, but I promise we'll do nothing to harm you. Right, Dwayne?” 

The brunette nodded. “We just want to help.” 

This was a mistake. These two men could easily kill him, leaving him to die on his own somewhere. Or they could rob him. Or beat him senseless. Either option would be equally horrible.... but something about them told Marko that maybe they were being truthful. Maybe they did actually want to help him.  Maybe they meant what they said, because they weren't bad people.

“... okay…” Marko muttered softly, raising his eyes to meet theirs. 

The two men smiled, sharing glances between each other before turning back to Marko. “Great! Let's get going now shall we?”

Marko stared at them for a while longer,  trying to gauge if they were telling the truth or lying, before nodding slowly and following after them. 

Marko became the third member of Max's family that night, and for the first time in his life, he felt complete.

A/N: This is way longer than I'd expected it to be, and, although it started of a little bit shitty, I think it got better towards the end. As I've said before, this is my own take on things; none of what I have written is canon in any way, shape, or form and is simply a silly little thing I came up with over the x-mas break!