#I will argue the hell out of this idc

[neonoddeye]

Going to fist fight each and every sanji x pudding shipper

[woodsborostabathon]

biggest most petty pet peeve is ghostface being depicted as like Just Some Guy. like jus some rando sexyman w no actual face behind the mask just vibes. “imagine being ghostface’s subby kitten uwu” mf WHO?? WHICH ONE??? its a PERSONA not an exclusively male entity of its own!!! u could be talking abt like (13) diff people and (4) of those are chicks!!!

[barleyo]

Consequence.

Adoptive Dad! Enji Todoroki X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: nobody asked for this but idc :3 i wrote this as a b-day present for myself!! i luv this old abusive man so bad oh my god!!! nasty old man who tries to be good but fails so miserably :3 old man who is just MEANT to be awful and abusive and gross!! luv it!!! i wanted to do a full on incest fic w him but idk if anybody would be interested >_< just let me know!!

Tags: adoptive-incest (daddy-daughter), age gap (18-50s), p in v, purity, sexual abuse mentions, loss of virginity, allusions to physical abuse, size difference, creampie, gross nasty stuff in general

Wordcount: 1.6k

Once all of his kids had given him a final 'fuck you' and left him on his own, Enji felt the pressure of loneliness crash down on him. Being on top in the hero rankings was worthless to him when he came home to an empty house. Every second he sat alone in his house, he realized that it was simply too big for just one man. It had never been a home, only a house where a fragmented family resided. Only once his kids fled did that realization hit him. 

He needed to fill the space and quick, and more than that, he needed to start over. He wanted to redeem himself somehow. Whole new family for a whole new man. 

But dating was hard at his age, and all the decent women were taken. Only fame-chasing whores were interested in him at this point, and he couldn't blame them. What the hell else did he have to offer? No woman would want to be with a tired, emotionally constipated, divorced, middle-aged man. Nor would any want to have kids with one, especially not at his age. 

Adoption it was. Simple enough. Plenty of kids in the system. Plenty of needy little brats that could benefit from his new-found, new-wave parenting tactics that he read up on in his abundant spare time. 'Don't abuse your kids.' Who would've thought it? Crazy. 'Top ten reasons why your kids won't visit you when you're in the nursing home.' Well, shit. 

He knew he had to go older. He would be absolutely damned if he would take in a toddler, or worse, a tween. He wasn't ready to raise anyone— he needed something already broken in for the most part. 

17? Yeah, that should be fine. He could do that. Old enough to take care of itself for the most part. Another body in the house was what he needed, not another responsibility. A girl? Yeah. Girls were supposed to be easier, right? Girls are sweet and grateful, always considerate and willing to help out. Girls are gentle and tender. 

Just his luck. He got the most clingy girl the foster care system had to offer. It was, at most, a bit irritating for the first few days when you were skittish and nervous around him all the time, but he understood. The problems occurred when you started to get comfortable.

He thought he wanted an affectionate little thing, especially considering the radio silence he received from his biological children, but this was just too much. Wherever he was, you needed to be. All day, all night. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, excluding when he was on patrol. 

Enji knew that adopted kids tended to have abandonment issues, or whatever, but did you have to be such a damn velcro child? It was cute, in a way, the first year or so of your stay with him. He kinda liked it, having some positive attention finally turned his way, but at a certain point it was just too much. 

Like when you turned 18 and decided that sleeping alone was no longer an option. Of course, he gave in. He tried to argue back, but the threat of tears from you was too much for his now mended heart. He was trying to change, damn it. He couldn't possibly not give you everything you ever asked for. 

'Oh, what's that? Sleeping in daddy's bed isn't enough? He has to spoon with you until you fall asleep? Honey, do you really think—? No, no, don't cry. Okay, okay, I'll do it.'

Or when spooning wasn't enough, and you needed to be massaged before falling asleep in Enji's arms, taking up his bed like nobody's business. 

'What's wrong, baby? Daddy's already rubbing your back, what else do you want? Touch you where? Baby— okay, since you said please.'

Every night, his thick fingers ran tight circles over your clit, strong arms holding you tight while you flailed and wriggled against him. You never seemed to get used to his touch. It was just too good. He split you open with his index and middle, curling into the spot you couldn't quite reach on your own. Every night, like clockwork. 

But, of course, you, the mouse who was given a cookie, asked for more. Fingers weren't enough. You needed more from daddy. Sleep didn't come easily enough for you after his skilled touches. You whined for him after every exchange, but he just couldn't give you what you wanted.

Daddy would do almost anything for his baby, anything you asked! Hell, if it made you happy, if it helped to ease the guilt he carried from his older four screw ups, why not? If it helped to mend the hole he created in his own heart, he'd pepper you in every kiss and suck and touch you as much as you wanted him to, but—

he really didn't think he could deflower you. 

The idea was too much, way too much. Kind of hypocritical of him. Finger banging and slurping on his adoptive daughter was well and good enough, but playing a little game of 'just the tip' was a line he didn't know if he could cross. 

It was tempting, and every time he turned you down he felt like a real douchebag, but he didn't trust himself with you. You were so small. He was anything but gentle. He had broken enough of his kids in other ways, he didn't exactly want to add to the score. 

Your cunt was swollen and drooling after your near nightly ritual with Enji. Crawl up into his bed, whine, scratch at him and beg for his sweet touch. You always got what you wanted, except for one thing.

"Why not?" you whined, gripping onto his forearm as he curled his fingers into you from his spot behind you, lazily acting as your big spoon. 

"This is enough." His teeth were gritted softly, trying to hold himself back. "You cum like this just fine."

You let your mouth hang open, shuddering silently at how he seemed to speed up and abuse your g-spot. "Not enough," you were finally able to make out, legs clenching in an attempt to force him to stop. 

Enji huffed, ignoring your whiny excuse. He hated when you locked him out like this, trying to keep your cunt from him like some type of half-assed punishment. Moving your legs back open, spread even further now, he continued fingering you with the same brutal, forceful pace. 

"You're being bratty, baby. I don't appreciate when you act like that," he said simply, looking down at your convulsing body. 

"You always say that," you said, pushing his arm as you tried to squirm away from him to pout. "You don't wanna 'cause you don't love me. Don't wanna get close t'me." 

That was his final straw. He had been holding himself back for your sake, but he could not handle the hurt tone in your voice, even if he knew you were faking just to get him to bite. 

He pulled his fingers out of your hole and pushed them into your mouth, stuffing the digits down your throat. He slipped his girthy cock out of his boxers, jamming the wide tip into your needy warmth. 

"You know that is not true," Enji said, already fucking into you without regard to how you were almost too tight. He'd fix that. Make you fit like a glove soon enough. "I spoil you enough, and you still want more?"

You moaned, sound coming out muffled from his fingers blocking your words. He pulled them out, strings of saliva coating your cheek as he brought his hand back to your clit. 

"Jus' wanna be closer to you 'nd feel you."

He scoffed, pushing down on your clit with too much force, bringing you to the edge of climax already. 

"No, you're a spoiled brat. I give you too much," he said, not meaning a damn word that came from his mouth. "Got used to getting whatever you want, huh? Selfish little pussy taking everything it can get." 

The pure euphoria you get from him being rough with you for once is unmatched. Daddy gave you what you wanted all the time, and you liked it, but he was too gentle with it. Like he was scared to mess up or make a mistake (again). You needed him to correct you, you'd wanted him to fuck some sense into you for so long.

You clenched the silky sheets on the bed, hands trembling while he pounding into you, hips cramming against yours spastically. 

God, he was ashamed. 

Not because he was fucking his daughter, hell, he came this far without problem. He just usually was much better in bed. Your gasps and shaky moans did little to appease him. Any other time, he'd be composed and sophisticated with his strokes, but he was sloppy and needy now. 

His cock kicked inside of you, twitching when he spilled his seed. He was so caught up in his own embarrassment that he hadn't realized how dangerously close he had gotten. 

"Daddy, did you—?"

Your question was interrupted by his hand covering your mouth, unstable thrusts continuing to fill your senses. You couldn't care that he came in you when he made you feel this good.

While your legs shook and your pussy gushed, one thing was made very apparent to both you and Enji:

This was the first time he let himself go and fucked you, but it would definitely not be the last.

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING JEONGHAN INCLUDES…. — sfw

• your boyfriend or your bully? (just kidding he absolutely adores you.)

• he would definitely 100% talk to you in a baby voice.

• he considers staying home and building the most difficult and intricate lego sets a date.

• oh he definitely takes such good care of you.

• another one in which you never have to drive because he always offers to.

• he's honestly the type of person to say no to having an animal. he insists on a pet rock being more than enough (he might let you get a bunny though if you beg hard enough.)

• jeonghan’s the angel on your shoulder, but he’s also the devil on the other.

• would buy you lego flower bouquets instead of real ones. he claims they would last you forever (and they do.)

• he always has your back, even when you're in the wrong. he would probably end up gaslighting the other person easily to get you off the hook (it works every time.)

• he's probably the type of person to trip you in public. 100% laughs at you before helping you up.

• he may cheat in games a lot, but whenever he's up against you, he ALWAYS plays fair.

• he's really into physical affection, but keeps it low-key. normally has an arm around your shoulder or your hand intertwined with his — he tends to kiss your knuckles time to time.

• honestly, the BEST when it come to comforting you. he knows exactly what to say and exactly what to do.

• he would let you play with his hair anytime you want. doesn't care what you do, even if you put it in pig tails. as long as he's getting head scratches, it's whatever.

• he always offers you a bite of his food and insists you eat it even if you don't want it.

• you could tell him absolutely anything and everything and he would never judge you for it.

• late night conversations with him could go on for hours and they're the best.

• jeonghan’s not the type of person to get jealous easily. he's fully confident in not only his looks, but his relationship as well.

• ONE OF THE BEST KISSERS and i stand by that idc.

• his presence is so calming and comforting that it makes it easy to fall asleep whenever you're around him so consider your insomnia cured.

• he's constantly teasing you, but he can read you very well and knows when to back off.

• despite him being a light sleeper, he falls asleep within the blink of an eye whenever he's with you. he calls you his melatonin.

• he will put you on the spot in group settings or just in general because he enjoys when you're flustered.

• he whispers the answer into your ears or which move to make next whenever you're playing a game. you would always end up winning because of this.

• whenever you two argue, he's actually really good at understanding your feelings and communicating. he insists on making up and not going to bed angry at each other.

• y’all would definitely double/triple date with seungcheol, joshua, and their s/o's.

• he's definitely the type to scare the shit out of you after y’all watch a scary movie.

• even though he gets cold easily, if you ever forget your jacket, he will give you his without even thinking about it. don’t even try to argue with him.

• he will always match your excitement with his own, even if he’s grumpy or having a bad day. jeonghan refuses to dull your sparkle.

• he always makes sure there’s a hair tie on his wrist for you (sometimes two so he can have one as well.)

• he is truly one of the best people to talk shit with. if you hate someone, then he hates them too. if you wanna punch someone, well then he sure as hell isn’t holding you back — he’s helping you and drop kicking them.

• he would probably use your shampoo ngl.

• he’s ridiculously good at making eye contact and maintaining it so whenever you’re talking to him, you tend to get butterflies (it’s okay though because this just proves he’s being attentive.)

• he probably has some weird, funny photo of you as his lockscreen, but everytime he looks at his phone he smiles in admiration.

• LAZY DATES. he prefers being in the comfort of your own home and as long as you’re with him, you’re content.

• he would laugh at any joke you make no matter how lame.

• he would indulge in cute little activities you like such as coloring or even playing just dance.

• y’all have weird hobbies together. i’m talking hobbies like going to couples therapy and making the therapist uncomfortable as y’all pretend to be angry over stupid shit when in reality your relationship is perfect. (the look on the therapist’s face when you tell her you’re jealous because of his pet rock is priceless.)

[unknownati]

x. bonnet

a/n: lost my bonnet (rip to my braids) and it inspired me

*a lil sum from my drafts while i force this christmas fic into existence and slooowly chip away at these reqs 😪 and i have since found it if you are wondering

warnings/tags: black!gn!reader, bonnet can be switched out for a durag, silk scarf, etc i js didnt know how to type that lol, ekko's kinda sassy 🤔, bickering but not arguing, fluff...question mark, what is this kind of thing called, rochelle and julius from everybody hates chris kinda relationship, shitty ending idc wrote this at 1am with a t-shirt on my head,

_______________________________________________

a cabinet door slams shut a few rooms over from ekko's workbench, his body jolting at the suddenness of the sound.

"where is this bonnet!?" you shout, clad in your nighttime attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants. this isn't a question new to ekko, you have this problem once every couple of months.

to say you were tired was an understatement. but you'd be damned if you spent hours in that chair getting your hair done just to have it get messed up in one night just because you couldn't protect it. and you've been searching for this thing for 30 whole minutes.

your footsteps stomped around the place, items clattering as you toss them around in wild abandonment in search of this godforsaken bonnet.

"did you check the bathroom?" ekko calls, raising his glass of water to his lips as you pace by his room.

"yes! three times. and even then, i never leave it in there, i always leave it in the same—" a pillow gets thrown off of your bed. nothing. "—exact—" you toss the sheets up. nothing. "—place. i don't get it!"

"then i don't know, baby."

"well, i know i didn't just grow two legs and walk on up out of here!"

ekko scoffs, making a weak attempt at showing empathy. "you have so many bonnets, just wear a different one."

"i can't. that's the only one that doesn't fly off my head while i'm sleeping."

he's amazed at your ability to be so stubborn at the smallest situation. to him, this is nothing but a 'throw something else on your head and call it a day' type of solution.

"can you check your workroom?"

"do you sleep in my workroom?" words full of sarcasm that make your brows somehow furrow even deeper.

"ekko, don't get smart with me."

he sighs, making a half hearted peek around his area. nothing. a shrug. "nothing here."

you keep searching around, looking in the most nonsensical areas for this piece of fabric. under the kitchen sink, IN the kitchen sink, in the shower, in your shoes, ekko's laundry basket, nothing.

you're beginning to just accept defeat, sighing in frustration as you trudge your way back to bed. you pass by ekko's workroom, eyes peeking between the small crack in the door.

pink satin.

atop ekko's head.

"i know you fuckin' lying—"

you swing open the door, snatching it off of his head. white locs fall loose, framing his face. your hand clutches your hip as you wave the bonnet in his face. "ekko, what is this?" you interrogated, an obvious rhetorical question that he didn't have an answer to.

ekko bares his teeth, shoulders pulling into a shrug. he completely forgot that he just...threw it on his head a few hours ago before he started working since he couldn't find a hair tie. "...damn, how'd that get there?"

you close your eyes. two deep breaths. in, out. in out. the second one steadier than the first.

now, usually you were very patient. you understood; things happen. but this? this was your breaking point for the week.

your fingers find the shell of his ear. the sting shoots through the cartilage, skin at his temple pulled taut. he's wincing, sucking air in through his teeth.

"it's like you're trying to test me, huh?

"baby, i'm sorry—" he unintentionally tries giving you his signature puppy-dog eyes. you only tug harder.

"sorry does not cut it. i've been looking for this for 30 minutes, 30! i'm tired as hell, i'm tryna sleep, and here you are playing like shit is sweet!"

...ekko didn't touch that bonnet after that.

[sammyluvr]

something about being close — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, angst, fluff, sam and reader are lovingly mean to each other, bad insults (weird, stupid, lame), bad jokes, swearing, canon typical violence and ghosts, arguing, so much kissing, could be ooc but idc, edited but most likely still contains a few mistakes, single usage of y/n, 9.5K words. requested !

summary : sam's being overprotective of you, and it leads to an argument and something more.

“hey, check this out,” sam calls to you and dean, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. “think we found our violent spirit.” you part from your own research without a single qualm, resting a hand on the back of sam’s chair as he leans back for you and dean to get a better look. “marissa hancock. she was a student at the college, died a violent death there, just like we thought. it’s thought that the janitor impaled her with his mop while he was working in her dorm hall, but he was never put away for lack of evidence.”

“explains the janitor kabob,” dean quips, already headed to shrug on his jacket. 

“easy solve,” you admit. it only took a solid half hour of searching through records to find the right murder. “but why’s she killing now? she’s had, what?” you lean further over sam’s shoulder to inspect the record, “fifty some years to be killing janitors, why start now?”

“dunno,” sam shrugs, and you can feel his shoulder brush against you, reminding you how close he is. doing your best to stay casual and maybe not stare longingly at his pretty face from this close up, you straighten your back and go to grab your own jacket as sam types away on his keyboard. “looks like her original murderer died two weeks ago.”

“right when the killings started,” dean finishes. “alright, let’s go. you got where she’s buried, sam?”

“yep,” he stands, shutting his laptop. “saint mercy cemetery, not too far.”

“hm,” you laugh out, “second saint mercy cemetery this month. people need to get more creative,” you note as you exit the motel room and head down the short hallway to get to the impala.

“and what would you name a cemetery?” dean asks, ready to catch you off guard or tease you for anything he can get his hands on.

“i should have thought of a clever answer before saying that,” you admit, “but i do wish it were socially acceptable to call them dead people neighborhoods.”

“that’s lame,” sam grins, throwing his arm around your shoulders for just about two seconds before he has to let go to get through the small doorway and outside.

“c’mon,” you complain, “i know it’s kind of lame, and definitely insensitive, but imagine someone just asked you where you’re headed after work and you get to tell them you’re going to the dead people neighborhood. cemetery’s no fun, at least dead people neighborhood is accurate.” you close the back door of the car behind you as you settle in to punctuate your point.

“you’re weird,” sam teases in a matter-of-fact tone, not even looking back from the passenger’s seat to see the sneer on your face.

“no, you’re weird,” you fire back.

“alright, kids,” dean interrupts, “enough bickering like we’re four, we’ve got a job to do,” he snickers as he backs the car up.

“okay, dean,” you and sam chime, voices full of mocking and almost totally in sync. dean rolls his eyes hard, because it’s just one of those days where the two of you can’t stop feeding into the antics of the other, regressing the combined mental age of the three of you by at least twenty years. 

having known the brothers since you were kids through bobby, and starting to hunt with them about a year and a half ago, you’ve certainly grown close with the both of them. but a little closer in age, you and sam are nothing but two peas in a pod. and much to dean’s chagrin, that means it only takes a split second for the two of you to switch things up and turn against him when he tries to break up your banter. it’s pretty much all loving argumentation, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t annoying as all hell for whoever has to witness it.

“and for the record, i like dead people neighborhood,” dean offers, ignoring your moment of synchronicity with sam.

“yes!” you celebrate, reaching around the seat in front of you to lightly hit sam’s shoulder. “you’re the lame one, you’re no fun.” 

he scoffs, mumbling something to himself about how, “of course dean likes dead people neighborhood. it’s stupid.”

you resist the urge to tell him that he’s stupid, and instead follow dean’s direction to focus on the case.

“hold on, dean. you should drop me off on campus first, one of us should make sure another janitor doesn’t fall on his mop handle before we can burn the bones,” you suggest.

“no.”

your brow furrows at how fast sam shuts you down, his serious tone a harsh contrast to his practically whiny mumble moments before. you glance at dean to see that he’s got his own eyebrows raised in confusion.

“what’d’you mean, ‘no’?” you question.

“i mean,” he clears his throat as if he’s just realized his strong denial was awkward, “that that could be dangerous alone, so i’ll go and you can stick with dean.”

you send a bewildered look to dean, one he doesn’t catch trying to pay attention to the street name up ahead. “i’m sorry, are you suggesting i can’t handle a measly ghost?” mostly you’re confused by sam’s words, but you can’t help letting a bit of offense slip into your voice.

“n-no, no that’s not what i’m saying,” he fumbles, trying to fix what he said, “i meant– i meant it would be safer for anyone not to go alone. so– so i’ll go with you and dean can stick with burning the body.”

it’s a clumsy, bad save that’s entirely unconvincing.

“you’re seriously gonna stick me with grave digging duty?” dean grunts, “y/n’s right, it’s just one ghost, we don’t need two of us to deal with it. digging up a grave is arguably harder.”

“exactly,” you reason, “which is why i should go scope out the dorm hall, and you should go with dean to the dead people neighborhood.”

“she’s buried in a family mausoleum,” counters sam, “her grave doesn’t need to be dug up, which means it’s a one person job, and since there could be an actual violent ghost in the dorm, two people should go. and don’t try to make dead people neighborhood a thing, at the very least it’s too long, not to mention it’s not funny.”

despite the fact that he’s teasing you, you’re glad to hear something normal come out of his mouth. his hesitancy to let you take on the ghost is odd, especially considering the ghost might not show up at all. it’s not like he’s never been protective of you, it’s in both his and certainly dean’s nature. but he knows full well that you are completely capable of handling one violent ghost, and he’s been weird like this for the past two weeks.

you laugh when you admit, “it wasn’t quite as good in context as i thought it would be, but it wasn’t that bad, i’m just tryna to stick with my bit,” you defend, “and fine, two people at the dorms, one on dead person arson.”

“are you serious?” sam laughs, halfheartedly tossing his head back to give you a judgemental look through the corner of his eye.

“dead serious, pun absolutely intended,” you let out a full laugh at the strangled sigh he lets out. oh how you love to rile him up with bad jokes. “you’re too easy, sam. for that, i’m sticking you on grave duty. dean and i will handle the dorm.”

“you should be on grave duty, for all the bad jokes today,” he argues.

dean practically growls in annoyance, “how about i go on grave duty, so i can get away from your annoying asses.” it’s not a suggestion, and the both of you huff out a sigh, but don’t argue.

dean drops you off a little ways from the dorm hall for you to grab a shotgun and salt rounds with less of a chance of being seen. you leave the other shotgun for dean just in case, bothered that yours is still broken from the last hunt. there hadn’t been enough time to fix it yet. so, you grab an iron rod, hoping to use that before any guns on a college campus. it’d be a sticky situation to get out of, being caught with shotguns in a dorm, and at the very least incredibly inconvenient to scare the hell out of a bunch of college aged kids at eleven pm. sam sticks the shotgun under his jacket, generally hiding it from the view of anyone not looking too closely.

walking a few minutes, you find the right dorm hall and sam hands the gun off to you to pull out his lock pick. but, glancing behind you, you shove the gun back into his hands and yank him into you.

“the hell?” he resists for a split second before you quickly interrupt him.

“shut up! hide the gun and act like you’re piss drunk. someone’s coming,” you hiss. in a swift movement, he tucks the gun back under his jacket as you shimmy the iron rod into your sleeve, then he swings his free arm around you, practically dropping half of his weight on you. “dude,” you complain, before falling into character. “sammy, come on!” you whine loudly. “i can’t reach my id with you like this,” you pretend to feel around for something in your back pocket while keeping him standing, and he immediately picks up on what you’re trying to do. he stumbles forward so that you have to use both hands to keep him upright, and you curse at your false struggle. “help me out here, sammy, will you?” you try to make your voice sound overly desperate, maybe a little innocent too, “why don’t you lean against the wall so we can get inside,” you beg, trusting sam to play his part well.

“nooo,” he slurs, dragging the word out in a whiny pitch, “don’t wanna.” he turns into you and haphazardly wraps his lanky arm all the way around your form, tugging you to him and nearly knocking the both of you over. you feel heat rush to your cheeks at this and desperately remind yourself that he’s only pressing his face into your neck so that he can get a look at the person approaching and keep the shotgun well hidden from view.

you see the girl out of the corner of your eye, young and clearly a student headed for the dorm.

“oh, thank god!” you exclaim, “hey, i’m so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could open the door for us?” you ask as sweetly as you can, pulling your eyebrows together to gain sympathy, before adding on a humorous tone, “my boyfriend is stupid drunk and i can’t get us inside.” you can feel sam stiffen for a split second at your words, and you yourself wonder if you should have just gone the “friend” route for the sake of your own sanity. you’re going to want to keep calling sam your boyfriend, over and over again.

“oh my god, of course,” she laughs goodnaturedly, and you thank the lord she’s laid back, rather than some uptight rule follower ready to report you to administration. she swipes her id and holds the door open for you, and as you struggle into the building, you think that sam is making this harder for you than it has to be. but there’s absolutely no denying you love the way it feels to just have him all over you, even for the sake of illegally entering a building with a gun.

“thank you so much,” your voice is one big sigh of relief, slightly muffled by the fabric of sam’s jacket.

“yeah, don’t worry about it,” she smiles, “you two are super cute, by the way,” she compliments before turning towards the stairs and waving a kind goodbye.

you do your best to not stumble over your words as you thank her, heat once again rising to your face, and you’re sure that sam can feel the warmth of your neck. body stiff, you turn and head down the hallway in the opposite direction, sam still clinging to you until it’s clear.

“alright, get off, you big dork,” you snort, gently pushing him away and doing your best to regain your composure to proceed as if you don’t have a massive crush on him. “did ya have to make it so hard for me?”

he shrugs with a sly grin, “had to make it convincing, didn’t i? besides, it was your idea, you don’t get to complain.”

you stick your tongue out at him and he raises his eyebrows as if to say, “really?”

“she was really nice,” you note, voice almost wistful in a way that sam easily picks up on. about a year into hunting with the brothers and dean was off buying food, you and sam had collapsed onto a motel bed together as you had many times before by then, both exhausted after a long case. that night, as you spoke in tired, hushed tones, with no need for anyone but the other to hear your words, you had somehow ended up with your head resting on his biceps and one of his legs swung over yours. 

that’s the night you told him you were jealous that he got to go to college, even if it wasn’t for long. you’d told him how you liked the idea of that life, even if you had to return to hunting after it was over. you wanted friends your age, to learn, go to stupid parties and have a college partner. you knew the experience wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but you wanted it anyway. he’d said, sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than hunting in his opinion. he wanted you to have that. once this was all over, and you both got justice for your families, he’d help you apply, make sure you got in somewhere, maybe even go with you. a hush fell over the room and he knew you weren’t convinced.

“yeah, she was,” he says, his own voice a touch more gentle than moments ago. “we were lucky.” he doesn’t want to tell you that most college kids would be at least cool enough to let you inside, maybe not as friendly as her, but that it’s true you’d like it here. he doesn’t want to remind you of what you can’t have. 

a silence falls over the two of you, punctuated only by the shuffling of your feet or the rustle of clothes. it’s comfortable and easy because you’ve done it a million times before. you don’t have to say anything to agree that you’ll head to the basement where the original murder occured. the both of you stay quiet and light on your feet, sam always peering around corners before rounding them.

in the basement he stops you with a simple finger to his lips. he leans in close to whisper as quietly as he can, “janitor’s here.”

you resist the urge to call said janitor an idiot, because who the hell is going to be cleaning an area in which three of your coworkers have mysteriously died in the past two weeks, but you just nod instead, taking in the way that sam’s eyes look under the dim light.

“wanna wait around til dean calls or warn him?” you ask, equally as quiet. he turns his head to look back around the corner before continuing.

“well, we should warn him, but we can’t use the drunk ruse on an employee. he probably has a radio scanner on him, might even be connected to campus security,” he points out.

“fbi?”

“we look too much like college kids right now,” he reasons.

“right,” you agree, “well then, stupid college kids trying to see a murder scene? we’ll link arms and you can hide the gun behind your back. just so we’re near him til dean burns the bones. hopefully nothing’ll even happen.” it’s as if you jinxed it all in that moment, as the lights immediately begin to flicker, the buzz of electricity filling your ears and a sudden chill filling the air. “nevermind,” you curse, flicking the iron rod back into your hand and barging around the corner, only a hair behind sam.

“way to jinx it,” he grunts.

you just scoff and beg him, “just try not to use the gun.” this time neither of you attempt to hide your presence as your shoes pound against the tile floor.

“no promises,” sam says, the gun up and loaded in front of him.

“what the hell?” the janitor barely has the time to exclaim before he’s thrown against the wall.

“i got it,” you warn sam, eager to avoid gunshots and sprinting full speed towards the apparition, iron rod in front of you. you throw all your weight into reaching the ghost of the young girl before she can flicker out of reach. the iron in your hand makes contact, and she evaporates for the time being. unfortunately for you, your momentum keeps you going, through the space the ghost just occupied and straight into the section of the floor slick with soapy water. with no time to gain any semblance of your balance, you slip and come crashing to the ground. your back hits the floor and the wind gets knocked out of your lungs in the same moment that the iron skitters out of your hand.

you struggle a bit to sit up due to the wetness underneath you, gasping slightly and letting curses fall from your mouth the moment you can speak again.

in a split second reaction, sam shouts your name, his voice inappropriately taught and worried for such a silly accident. he’s by your side in an instant, strong hands pulling you up and his anxious voice asking if you’re alright. you wave him off easily, unconcerned for yourself.

“help him,” you urge, “i’m fine.” but he doesn’t back off nearly as easily as you’d think.

“are you sure, did you hit your head? you couldn’t breathe for a second there,” his hands stay glued to you as he rattles off his concerns, ones that you find utterly unnecessary and unhelpful considering the fact that you’re fine, and the ghost could reappear any second. his strong grip keeps you from bending down to scoop up the iron rod, but you have to wrench yourself away from him when you hear a strangled cry come from the janitor. he whirls around with you to see the ghost with her hands around the janitor’s neck, crushing him against the wall as his feet dangle just above the floor. the iron rod is back in your hand in an instant, but sam’s shotgun lays abandoned on the floor a few feet away.

he dives for the weapon, but with a flick of the ghost’s hand, he’s knocked against the wall with a noise so loud it hurts to hear. before she can pay you attention, you fling the iron towards her, vaporizing her once more. the iron clatters to the ground as the janitor collapses to his knees. you rush towards him, pulling him away from the wall before tugging a container of salt from your jacket’s inside pockets. apologetically, you haul the poor man to his feet, throwing a quick look over your shoulder at sam. he’s groaning painfully, but already moving to get back up. 

knowing he’s easily survived worse, you turn your attention back to the janitor, who’s sputtering out confused and incoherent questions about what in the goddamn hell is happening.

“just stay there,” you urge him, too pressed for time to add adequate sympathy to your tone. “stay in the circle and she can’t get you.” with practiced ease, you shake the salt onto the ground with barely enough to make a small, solid ring around the man.

you scoop up the gun from the ground, then turn to help sam onto his feet. “we’re gonna have to tough this out til dean gets done,” is all you say when you place the weapon into his hands, despite the urge to ask what the hell is wrong with him and why he’s so off his game. you turn to grab your own weapon, but it seems the ghost is reappearing faster and faster. this time, you’re the one who gets tossed into the wall, but you stay pressed against the cold surface as a mop flies to meet you, the long handle pushing against your throat and cutting off your air supply. you take in a strangled gasp, hands clawing at the old wooden handle and giving yourself a few splinters that you couldn’t care less about in the moment. of course, it doesn’t budge.

the second you’re flattened against the wall, sam shouts your name again, this time with his gun in the air, swinging around to get a shot at the ghost. but before he can react, it flies out of his hand and she reappears right in front of him, pushing him against the wall across from you.

he struggles against her wildly, his hand itching to get free of her hold to reach the hidden iron knife in his pocket. but before he can get there, her grip weakens and she lets out a strangled scream as she bursts into flames. the flames climb up her old fashioned pencil skirt and swallow up the bloody wound in her abdomen. her grip on you and sam falters as she burns away, then dissolves completely as the last of her ashes fade out into the musty basement air.

you drop to your knees, coughing and gasping for breath as the sound of the mop clattering to the floor echoes through the hallway. sam’s saying your name, half through a cough and his voice still so worried as he stumbles towards you. then he’s on his knees too and his hands are sturdy on your shoulders.

“‘m fine,” you rasp out, hand reaching for his bicep to ground you to something solid and steady. he stays right there, completely ignoring the poor man who’s still practically frozen in fear in the tiny circle of salt and the ringing of his phone. one of his hands slips around you to rub soothing strokes up and down your back and it brings you even closer to him, your forehead dipping to rest on his shoulder. you feel silly for how much he’s fussing over you, but you can’t quite scold or question him until you’ve caught your breath. clearly something is bothering him (and you want him so bad), so you let him hold you close.

“are you hurt anywhere?” he finally asks once he feels your breathing even out under his touch. 

you pull away from him gently, shaking your head before verbally confirming, “no, i’m alright sam. nothing more than your typical bumps and bruises.” your voice is a touch raspy from the pressure on your throat, but it’s nothing that won’t go away with some water and rest, maybe some tea if really necessary.

his hands stay on you as he stands. “are you sure?” he asks, and you can’t figure out why on earth, heaven, or hell he’s so overly concerned about you. frankly, it’s starting to worry you. and definitely annoy you. all the sudden he’s acting like you’re fragile, like you can’t take care of yourself. things which he should know for a fact aren’t true.

he lets you slip away from his hold as you swoop down to pick up your lost weapons and face the poor janitor.

“sorry about that all. you can step out of the salt now.” he looks at you as if he can’t be sure, and your tone softens a bit. he’s young, probably just a college kid himself. “she’s really gone this time, i promise. you won’t ever have to worry about her again. though, i wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to look for a different job.”

he nods and thanks you, and you tell him to repay the favor by not mentioning you and sam. then, at a pace you certainly can’t blame him for, he scurries away.

“c’mon,” you nod to sam, “we should get out of here. you should also call dean back. he’s probably worried you didn’t answer.” with that, you turn back in the direction of the stairs without looking back at sam, rolling your eyes when your own cell ring. you pick up with a, “we’re fine, dean,” before he can even ask why the hell it took you so long to answer him. he lets out a sigh, half relieved, half annoyed. 

“what took ya so long?” he asks anyway.

“had a few bumps in the road since little miss janitor-killer showed up, but we’re fine. neither of us are hurt. would’ya pick us up in the same spot you left us?”

“yeah, ‘course. already on my way, see you crazy kids in five.” with that, he hangs up and you don’t have to glance over your shoulder to feel sam following behind. it’s all just the familiarity of his footsteps, the sound they make, and the pace at which he walks. it’s the particular rustle of his favorite jacket, soft and scratchy sounding all at once. it’s the feeling of his tall figure, his broad chest so close behind you that he’d run right into you if you stopped even for a moment. you debate whether to ask him what the hell is up now or at the motel. for now, the priority is getting out unnoticed, so you clench your jaw a bit and continue in silence because you’re beginning to feel a little angry with him. you think he can feel it, so he stays quiet too, all the way out the dorm and down the street to wait for dean.

it’s not uncommon to be quieter after a hunt is finished because you’re all usually tired and more often than not achey from some toss around or another. but sam can tell there’s something else bothering you tonight. from the way you tilt your shoulder away from him, the distance so nearly imperceptible that only he would notice, he’s willing to bet that he’s that something. and though he doesn’t want to admit it, he thinks he knows why. he just won’t be the first one to say something about it because he’s stubborn, a little prideful, and most of all, too afraid to explain why he’s acting this way.

even so, he just can’t help himself. he hovers near, so near that once you’re settled by the side of the road, you can feel him without actually touching him. you’re tempted to nudge him away, just because of how overprotective he’s acting. you’re also tempted to lean back into his chest because somehow you know his hands wouldn’t waste a second in gathering you up and keeping you closer than ever before. it starts to rain a little bit, soft and almost unnoticable if it weren’t for the new chill in the air. for a moment, you can feel one hand hover over your waist, just for a second before there’s a light swish of fabric when it falls back to his side. you wonder if he’s worried about you getting too cold.

you hear dean before you see him, the rumble of the impala coming into earshot moments before its headlights appear around the corner. the car slows as it nears you, pulling to the side of the road with the front windows down and some classic rock guitar riff filtering into your ears. the music’s quieter than you know it was just moments ago from when dean was alone. he greets you two with a simple, “hey,” once he’s fully stopped and you place your hand out, palm up and wordlessly asking for sam to hand you the rifle to put in the trunk.

“i got it,” he says, not waiting for you to argue when he takes the iron from the loose grip of your fist and makes his way to the trunk. you slide into the back seat behind the passengers side and return dean’s greeting.

he twists in his seat to watch you as you close your eyes and massage your shoulder with a wince. it’s beginning to become more sore, just like all the rest of your body.

“you okay?” he asks, voice full of his normal gruffness that tells you cares enough to ask but knows not to be too worried.

you open your eyes back up to give him a nod. “‘m fine. just the usual ghost beat down. y’know, bumps and bruises.”

“mm, sure do,” he agrees, “so what? dearly departed marissa thought you were janitors?” he asks skeptically. you hear the slam of the trunk, and moments later sam’s settling into his seat in front of you.

“no,” you scoff, “some idiot kid was actually cleaning down there. told ‘im to get a new job,” you snort humorlessly.

“well, i’ll say,” dean raises his eyebrows in agreement before twisting back to face the wheel. he sneaks a look between you and sam before switching the car out of park and getting back on the road. for a few minutes, all you hear is the muted music, the constant roll of the engine, the light patter of rain on the metal roof, and the road under the tires. then dean switches off the music. “anything happen back there that i should know about?” he ventures.

“no,” sam answers casually, “nothing, just the usual.” you don’t even answer. you just can’t figure out if you should involve dean, tell him how sam was unthinking and almost entirely uncaring about the innocent civilian involved, all because he was so worried about you.

“alright,” dean concedes, glancing at you through the rearview mirror and sounding entirely unconvinced. he doesn’t turn the music back on, just lets the silence reign, so you close your tired eyes and lean your head against the cold glass of the window. you’ve fallen asleep in the back of the impala countless times before, but your drowsiness doesn’t take over this time in favor of letting your mind wander over what to say to sam. you can’t just let it be, and tonight is certainly the worst it’s gotten. plus, it’s an easy habit for you to wait for sleep when you’re already so close to the motel. 

when dean pulls into the parking lot, he doesn’t turn off the engine. “gonna grab some grub. i’ll be back in a bit with the usual.”

“grab me something for dessert, will ya? ‘m craving something sweet,” you request, leaning towards the driver’s seat. 

“sure thing,” he nods, and you slide out of the car and close the door after a thank you and tired smile. “anything for you, sammy?” you hear him ask.

“i’m good, just the regular,” sam responds as he exits the car. you unlock the motel door, and he’s inside the room just a moment later, closing and locking the entrance behind him. you stand facing away from him at the shitty table, your jacket already strewn across the back of a chair. you can hear him behind you, going through his routine movements. he’s taking off his jacket, setting it down on the edge of the bed. then he’s pulling comfier clothes out from his pack.

“you wanna shower first?” he offers, breaking the silence of the room. you can feel his gaze on your back.

“sure,” you swallow, “thanks,” you say without any sort of edge to your voice.

“‘f course,” he says, and he means that. his eyes follow you as you pull out your own change of clothes, just a tshirt and sweats, and make your way to the dingy bathroom. you’re tired, so you’re quick with it, but the water’s already lukewarm by the time you’re done. you dry off and dress quick, eager to lay in bed.

and yet, when sam takes your place in the bathroom and the sounds of the shower start up again, you sit at the table instead, picking out a few splinters in your hands before folding your arms and resting your head against them. you stay that way, even when you hear the water turn off, the bathroom door open, his heavy footfalls that are only heavy because he’s so tall and not for lack of gentleness, then the scraping of the chair across from you. he doesn’t even say a thing, just looks at the top of your head and the tip of your nose. the shape of your hands, the point of your elbows, and the curve of your back.

with a deep breath and some pain in your neck, you lift your head. you look back at him and slump your chin into your palm.

“i’m upset with you,” you state.

he frowns. even his frown is pretty. “i know,” he sighs.

“so? why are you acting like this?” your voice is tired, but you still manage to infuse accusation into your tone, “sam, why are you suddenly acting like i can’t take care of myself out there? you’ve been weird for nearly two weeks now, and i don’t like it. i don’t like this.”

sam doesn’t know how to respond. he’s used to being yelled at, shouted at, angry at. he’s used to yelling and shouting and getting angry back. and though he’s certainly fought with you before, he’s still not used to the level tone and the way you say each word so slow, like you’re not actually arguing. just upset and rightfully a little angry, like you just want to understand. 

sure, he can hear the plain anger in your voice. you’re not trying to hide it. but you’re not yelling. how’s he supposed to use the heat of the moment to shout back, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” or “i’m just trying to help,” when there is no heat in the moment? instead, he’s embarrassed and the only answer he can come up with, the only one that he can mean if he answers in that same, level tone you’re using is, one he’s having too much trouble saying aloud. any other answer would just be too wrong like that. or maybe if you were shouting, he’d tell you the truth, because he could yell it out, loud and rash without thinking about it. if he says it now, it’s not because he just let it slip. if he says it now, there’s no way to take it back, to get around everything threatening to bubble over the surface like forgotten water on a heated stove.

“i don’t think that you can’t take care of yourself. i know you can,” is all he says, because it’s true and it skirts around the real questions. his voice is rough, halfway between pleading and holding back from the anger he doesn’t yet know how to control. you heave a sigh.

“so why, sam? why?” you let the heavy question stew for a moment, then go on when he doesn’t even meet your gaze, “or, i don’t know, if you’re not gonna tell me, just promise me you’ll stop?”

he clenches his jaw because he knows he can’t. he just wishes you would shout. then, he’d tell you. he can imagine the words coming out of his mouth, but only if they’re loud, only if you’ve pressured him to do it. he realizes that’s probably fucked up. but the other way is too vulnerable, too vast of a leap to take to when he’s just not sure.

“sam,” you press, “you don’t have to worry about me, i swear. i don’t understand what’s got you like this, but it’s getting in the way of you being able to do your job right. that kid could have died because all you could do was worry about me,” that’s when you begin you raise your voice, just a little. because that’s what’s making you most upset about this. you hate it ‘cause you feel like he’s doubting your abilities as a hunter, but you hate it even more because it’s making him disregard the safety of others and of himself, for you. “sam, i only slipped. sure i got the wind knocked out of me, but you dropped your gun for that? frankly, that was stupid. and the poor kid was being choked, and if i hadn’t been lucky enough to throw the iron before she could react, he could have died. i need you to understand that. i need you to understand that i can do this job, that i’m strong enough, and that if you don’t trust me with that? people could die. and i’m not about to let that happen. so either you tell me what’s up and we figure it out, or you stop and i pay you the huge favor of just dropping the whole thing, okay?”

suddenly he looks all sad. “i do trust you,” he says, voice all sincerity and nothing more.

you close your eyes for a moment, half in frustration and half because you could really use some shut eye right about now. “that’s not– well, it is. it is part of the point. but i need an answer from you, i need you to tell me you won’t let whatever this is put somebody else in danger.”

he clenches his jaw. he’s still stuck. you still haven’t shouted.

“just spit it out. i can practically see something rolling around on the tip of your tongue. just say it, sam.”

there’s an edge to your voice, so maybe he can.

“i can’t lose you.”

there it is. it’s said with an edge, too, like he wanted to shout it but couldn’t. it’s said rough and a little bit angry and full of this undying faithfulness and yes, love. 

but you still don’t quite understand it, so it makes you sigh. it makes your eyes soften a bit and it makes you a little angrier than before. it makes you want him to mean that with all his chest and it makes you want to shake him hard until he comes to his senses.

“that’s always been a danger, ever since we met. you know that,” your voice is something so oddly gentle in its frustration, “sammy, you’re my best friend, and i can’t lose you either. hell, i don’t think the words “best friend” even begin to cover the depth of how much i care about you. but we’ll both be safer if we trust each other, if we trust in both of our abilities to keep ourselves and the other safe. tell me that you understand that.”

it takes him a minute to speak again, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he searches for what to say. “two weeks ago,” is all he manages at first. you try to think back to it, and it immediately dawns on you. “i couldn’t prote–”

“sammy, no,” you interrupt, “that wasn’t your fault, okay? i know this doesn’t help to say, but we can’t always protect each other perfectly, to the extent we really want. i’d do anything for you, sammy, you know that.” after that there’s supposed to be a “but” where you explain to him that you can’t let that get in the way of your thinking straight and keeping everyone safe. instead, those last words just hang, suspended and weighty in the air.

“but you could’ve been killed,” the way he says your name is almost desperate. “it was dean that saved you. i was there and i couldn’t even help. what if next time, dean isn’t there? what if–,” his voice breaks, and he effectively cuts himself off from finishing the sentence. you know what he was trying to say.

any answer you give to that, you know isn’t enough. “but i wasn’t killed, sam. i’m here. i’m right here and i’m alive and i’m well and i don’t want to spend all my time worrying about you worrying about me. not like this.” you let that sit for a moment or two, and though his eyebrows are still all sad and pinched together, you think you’re starting to get through to him.

“but i can’t lose you,” he repeats stubbornly.

“sam,” you’re practically begging at this point, frustration creeping back into your voice, “the best way for you to keep me safe from ghosts and monsters and everything else is to take care of the problem, efficiently and effectively, like we always do. if there’s no monster, it can’t hurt me. but if you drop your weapon just because i slipped on soapy floors and lost my breath for a second? then it’s not just you and whatever innocent bystander around who’s more vulnerable now, it’s me too. so if that’s what it’s gonna take for me to convince you to stop fussing over me, then, please, think about it like that.”

sam is smart. he loves logic and reason, and you’ve handed him just that. but even more than that, he loves you. in the end, that trumps all.

“but i love you.”

he says it like a plea. like he didn’t mean to say it at all but it was the only thing running through his mind, and therefore, the only thing running off his tongue.

“sammy,” you breathe out, and then it’s like there’s no more air for you to breathe back in. that sweet nickname of his coming out of your mouth, resting on your tongue before tumbling into the air, is half like a drug to him, half like a bitter wind to sober him up quick.

“i– i only meant that i–,” he meant just that and now it’s said and now he’s never going to take it back, even if you hate him for it. “i meant that,” he says it firm and true this time, “i love you, so i can’t lose you.”

the way he looks at you, right into your eyes like they’re the prettiest things he’s ever seen, like you’re the best thing he’s ever had, oh, it has you hooked like bait has a fish who bit down too hard. it has you praying he never looks at anybody else like that again. it has you rising out of your seat and it’s pulling you across the small, wobbly table. he’s wedged into the grooves of your heart, so deep it could kill you to pull him out, so you follow the tug and he leans in too so the line isn’t so taught, so that it’s easy and comfortable and beautiful to reach his lips. 

his hands are like a net that catches you up in big, lovely swaths. they travel from your own hands, that lean against the table to keep your lips pressed to his, up to your elbows and then he knows he can never get enough. so he pushes up out of his own seat, drags his hands further up your arms until they can wrap around your biceps and push you up. not for a moment does he let his lips leave yours as he stands and pulls the both of you away from the table until he can bring you close, right into his wide, warm chest. then his hands can roam, gentle over your sensitive back, up to your neck then the back of your head to push your face into his. the other hand gets to go from your waist to your hips, or dip to the small of your back and press you flush to him.

you can only get away from him for a second, just enough time to whisper, “i love you, too,” before he swallows you back up. you melt right into him, and he loves it so much, but he feels how tired you are and he remembers he is too. so he only kisses you for a minute longer before letting your head rest on his shoulder. without any reservation, he presses a long kiss to your temple and you sigh a sweet sigh into his worn out tshirt.

unwilling to let go, he waddles with you, all bundled up into his arms, to the edge of the bed. without warning, he collapses into it, taking you right down with him and pulling out a little shriek from your mouth that he finds to be nothing short of endearing. he laughs, a belly laugh that you can feel the vibrations of as it moves up into his chest and out of those pretty lips of his. with some struggle to readjust yourself, you press a sweet peck to those lips. another easy i love you.

then you collapse back into his hold and the low quality plush of the motel bed. “now promise me you’ll pull yourself together next time we get a case?” this time your ask is so much more lighthearted, sweeter because it’s mumbled into the skin of his arm. you mean it just as much, but you can’t help the fact that you feel like you’re floating, “now i really, really can’t have you getting us in trouble. i’ll need to be able to kiss you at any given moment, so you have to promise me that you’ll trust me to take care of myself. because it works, and you know it. it’s the safest way. for both of us.”

the sigh he heaves can be felt through practically your whole body. it’s heavier than you wish it’d be, but he relaxes against you just a bit more. “i know,” he relents, “i’ll do my best, okay?”

“thank you,” you breathe out, too relieved to care that he couldn’t quite promise. you know this all means he’ll just be more protective of you, but you can say the same for yourself. now that you’ve kissed him and he’s told you he loves you and you’ve said it back, right against his lips, you’ll worry about him extra. but the both of you know the best ways to keep each other alive, and that has to be enough for you. you allow yourself to snuggle closer into him before joking, “d’you think dean’s ever gonna come back?”

you feel sam’s quiet laugh more than you hear it. “yeah, he really did us a favor with that one, didn’t he?” you can hear the smile in his voice before he remembers himself, “do not tell him i said that.” having you in his arms like this has got him a little giddy, saying things aloud that he normally wouldn’t.

letting out a laugh of your own, you promise, “i won’t. but i’m starting to get hungry. maybe we should call him and tell him the coast is clear, we didn’t tear the room to shreds or anything like that.”

sam chuckles again, and you decide very quickly that you like the way it feels for him to laugh with you so close. neither of you move, not to get a phone to call dean or to stop yourselves from growing drowsy. not for anything.

you’re half asleep when you hear the familiar sound of the impala’s engine near the room. it turns off, then comes the sound of its front door being open and shut. just because you’re hungry and it spells the arrival of food, you force your eyes open and let out a groan when you wiggle your arms out of sam’s hold to stretch. the way his hands shift to your waist as you do so has you a bit flustered and you wonder if you’re supposed to pretend in front of dean that you haven’t spent the last half hour kissing and cuddling. but sam doesn’t seem to care, because he just sits up when the door’s lock clicks, one hand by your head to hold him up, the other still settled decidedly on your waist. so you decide not to care either, and turn your head around to accidentally grin at dean when he peeks his head through the door. you had meant to look casual, but the second someone else becomes a witness to the fact that you’re laying together like this, you’re beaming.

dean visibly relaxes when he takes in the sight, pushing the door all the way open to walk in, then lock the door back up behind him.

“hey, there,” is all he says, shooting the both of you a look that says, really, you’re just gonna keep sitting there like that in front of me? it’s not that bad, but he’s allowed to tease because he just turned a twenty minute food trip into an hour purely for yours and sam’s sake. you clear your throat awkwardly, and only when you sit up does sam’s hand fall away from you.

you pad over to the table as dean places the paper bag of fast food on the surface. he drags over an extra mismatched chair and sam follows close behind you, pulling the remaining chair to sit beside you. as you begin to pull food out from the bag, now clearly gone cold to the touch, dean sits down, complaining that they didn’t have pie, so he bought you two cookies for dessert instead.

“well, thank you for the food anyways,” you smile, hoping he picks up on the fact that you’re thanking him for the other thing too, “damn shame there was no pie, though,” you say, more for his sake than yours. you wonder why he didn’t just pick some up from somewhere else since he was gone so long.

“mhmm, and don’t sweat about the pie. just got a slice somewhere else,” he shrugs, “ate it in the car, there was only one slice left and i didn’t want you to feel like you were missing out,” he explains with that familiar teasing edge which makes you think he indeed caught onto the double meaning of your thanks. you let out a small huff of laughter before tearing into the food, only now realizing just how hungry you are. you’d felt it creep up on you on the car ride back, smiled at the mention of food from dean, even stupidly thought about it during a quiet moment in the argument with sam. but the second your lips found his, that was the only hunger you’d felt. to keep kissing him, to keep him close, keep him loving you. only when you settled all the way into his arms, sure that you’d be able to satiate that hunger again, could your body remember you hadn’t eaten since early this afternoon.

the three of you eating like this, late at night and without much conversation, is common and comfortable. dean is on what you assume to be his second burger, because there’s no way he’d have just sat in the car, probably parked in a random lot and wondering how long he should be gone, and just waited to eat an extra-bacon burger until he came back. sam’s nearly the same as always, too, but tonight he sits so close that his forearm brushes against yours. you bump elbows or knees every so often, and the side of his socked foot is pressed against yours the entire time.

you sigh, content with the nearness of him that’s so much more complete and full than it was just hours ago. now, there’s no need to hover. now, you can just swoop in and land, take what you want, give what the other needs.

dean makes no teasing comments, but you can feel the way he’s been examining, reading the two of you. you’re not sure if you’re supposed to say something aloud, but you know that he knows the two of you so well that he understands almost exactly what must’ve happened while he was gone. maybe he’s not teasing because this is the outcome he wanted to come back to. he probably knows better than the both of you how you were crushing, pining even, over the other.

he takes his turn in the shower when he finishes his food, and you and sam begin to clean up a few minutes later. once all the trash is crumbled up and tossed away, you go around and turn off all the lights but a single bedside lamp. as you turn away from clicking off the lamp in the corner of the room, sam’s right there in front of you. you don’t have the time to be startled by him sneaking up on you, he’s so quick to cup your face with his hands and slot his lips against yours. he lingers a long moment before pulling apart just enough to rest his forehead on yours.

“gonna kiss you forever,” he whispers, and you realize you’ve turned this giant man into a complete and utter sap. 

“you better.” your grin is wide and real and he can almost feel your lips moving, he’s so close. just as you’re ready to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, the steady white noise of the shower shuts off. you sigh and laugh a little, leaning in to steal one more chaste kiss before brushing past him. but he turns with you, hands still warm on your cheeks and not letting go until he’s kissed you once more.

when dean’s gone from the bathroom, sam follows you in to brush his teeth with you. you’ve done so plenty of times, but tonight, sam gets to loop his free arm around your waist and pull you into him, rather than stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space. he gets to make you giggle through toothpaste when he does so, and you get to switch your toothbrush to your other hand and wrap your own arm around his waist, too. he gets to make you laugh dangerously harder when he tightens his hold on you to prevent you from bending and spitting into the sink when you’re done. you try to hold back the laughter with your mouth full of toothpaste, then he’s the one laughing around his toothbrush because there’s white, foamy spit rolling down your chin from the corner of your mouth and threatening to drip to your dark-colored tshirt. of course, he lets you spit and rinse your mouth, relishing in the continued sound of your laughter.

“you asshole! almost ruined my shirt til the next time we make a laundry stop!” you take revenge as he rinses out his own mouth, splashing the running water onto his face as he swishes water around in his mouth. 

he spits the water out in surprise and sputters an indignant, “hey!” before he bursts into laughter again.

you’re both giddy, high off of kissing each other, and silly from the exhaustion of a hunt, so he tugs you into him by your hips and keeps laughing into the crook of your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers up through his soft, newly washed hair. you kiss the closest thing you can reach and he melts right into your arms.

it’s only when you yawn that he pulls away from you. “we should get to bed, huh?”

you nod and twist towards the door, peeking through it to see dean sleeping in his bed, his still form highlighted by the warm light of the cheap lamp. taking sam’s hand with a shy smile, you lead him to the other bed, turning off the last light and climbing under the covers with him not far behind. he loops his arm under your head, then the other over your waist to splay his hand flat across the small of your back. the way he does it is exactly the way you wished he would, as if he’s thought about holding you like this every night you share a bed, just as you had. with a final glance towards dean, he kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

you try to stifle the giggle that the soft, ticklish contact of his lips wants to pull from your chest, praying that dean is really as asleep as he looks. the both of you stiffen a bit when you hear dean’s blankets rustling, but you let out another breathy, quiet laugh when it goes silent again.

sam’s about to kiss you all over again when dean’s voice rings out into the hush of the night, startling you both.

“no shenanigans while i’m asleep, lovebirds,” he grunts.

that brings more laughter out of your lips and a rush of heat to your face that you’re sure sam feels, too. he just groans in annoyance at his brother, because of course dean had to get in at least one borderline dirty comment. neither of you really answer as dean shifts around in his bed again, likely turning his back to you and mumbling something mostly unintelligible. 

the only word you can catch is “finally.”

[prettybbychim]

[this became much longer than i intended whoops]

u know i think it would’ve been much better if the ode of resurrection was not shown to us immediately, and wasn’t a main part of their culture. have people die throughout the archon quest, make us believe that there’s no saving them. kill off kachina at the start and convince us that she’s the first playable character in genshin thats not alive.

build up these bonds, forge these friendships, make us care.

just to take it all away

that’s war.

but there’s a tiny flame, that glimmer of hope. maybe it’s something the pyro archons have been working on, passing it down to their successors. something mavuika has been working on. yeah u heard that right she’s actually doing something wow get citlali in there to help out. get the whole goddamn tribe involved idc

there’s a scramble to find the last of the heroes. they don’t want to force it or fuck something up but they’re running out of time. the abyss is coming. it will consume the nation. they need to fucking buckle up and get down to it.

they could probably still go into the night kingdom to search for kachina, so that mualani can get her ancient name. or it can occur under entirely different circumstances. haven’t given that much thought yet. do they find her?

do they find her and can’t actually bring her back to the surface?

for the next part, we’re gonna have to shake things up because we need the captain on our team sooner rather than later. how that happens is up in the air but regardless, we put aside our differences to save natlan.

so, we help the captain find old dragon tech. maybe we enlist the help of kinich and ajaw, maybe we go into ochkanatlan, tie some of that shit in. we can take iansan along too, who is super duper strong and can carry all our fancy dragon tech or smth idk the three of them need more involvement !!! ajaw would drive me up the wall but it’s a necessary evil

in ochkanatlan, we see how the abyss can mimic lifeforms. the twin is in irminsul right? maybe it’s steals the twin’s image, but the traveler knows it’s not them because their twin would never say things like this. we learn that they abyss manifestations are (always?) twisted and mutilated.

we see the dragon. we don’t defeat it, that’s for the world quest lol but we get the image of the dragon in our minds so that when it shows up later down the line, we know what the fuck is happening lol

on our trip, we learn bits and pieces about the captain. it’s all disconnected, nothing makes sense. and since we’re nosey little fuckers, we find correspondence with the tsaritsa in his belongings.

capitano is gentle with his body. maybe a little too gentle. it catches the traveler’s eye but they don’t know what it means, they have no grounds for suspicion. it’s blown off as recovering from his duel with mavuika. (little do we know that he was hit directly in the heart and he’s worried, goddamnit)

ororon lets it slip that something feels off with the captain’s soul. (could the captain be using ororon’s sensitivities to monitor the souls housed inside him? would he eventually tell ororon what’s going on? or would that be too risky?)

ororon receives ancient name same as before, nothing really needs to change there i suppose. more suspicion is thrown on the captain because of the identity of the soul trying to possess ororon. maybe the captain didn’t share his plan in its entirety, he has a lot riding on this, he can’t afford to fuck it up, and keeps his cards close to his chest. he and mavuika can still argue in front of ororon like mom and dad lol

chuychu dies. she doesn’t get to give a long goodbye. she bleeds out in her sister’s arms. (they actually try to stop the bleeding and give her medical care) chasca goes berserk hell yeah, there’s a struggle. she manages to rein herself in, the love between sisters reigns supreme. chasca gets her ancient name

boom u got all ur heroes. they supercharge mavuika to beat back the abyss core thing. what was its name? gilgamesh? i don’t fucking know

the losses are extreme

fast forward a bit bc i’m losing steam and attention span here

we dive back into the night kingdom to track down the “brain” of the abyss corruption. the people we’ve met and lost in natlan help us out. kachina can be added to the mix. the gay lovers, chuychu and her pokémon team, boba and coconut — the whole gang’s here yooo i actually loved this part. favorite section by far

and after our trip in ochkanatlan, we know that the dragon we’re fighting is an abyssal manifestation. the voices of the previous pyro archons are their own but the words are all wrong, designed to discourage and distress us.

we defeat it using the power of friendship (i’m gonna kms)

also mavuika’s kit is completely different. i’m giving her a redesign fuck it. but that’s a post for another time.

traveler seems pretty good ngl i just wish the cons aren’t limited to fighting the dragon. i really liked what i was seeing and then they pooped all over my party (what’s the point!!!)

instead of a big parade, we gather around together at the stadium to finally try the thing all the pyro archons have been cooking. the heroes are a necessary component.

the incandescent ode of resurrection

among the many, kachina comes out of the flames. mualani sobs her heart out and vows to never let her out of her sight ever again

chuychu perhaps? 👀 pls pls she’s the only one besides cap and ororon that i give a shit about pllssssss playable chuychu when? her design is fantastic as is u dont need to touch it PLEASE—

now we can have a party!! after everything is all said and done, we can have One party instead of the five or so we’ve had since we came to natlan. (nation of war? more like nation of fiestas)

ororon, though, feels uneasy, and not because of the atmosphere. he says he’s going to find the captain, but he can’t explain why. concerned, the traveler and paimon try to follow him but are intercepted by citlali, who is for once not freaking out about ororon’s whereabouts, instead…

oh but wait. where’s mavuika gone? oh nooo

plays out relatively the same i suppose. could use some tweaking but not anything significant enough to mention right now.

except now we have somewhat of an understanding of the captain already, all the little bits and pieces we noticed, and the clues we (so rudely) discovered, it’s all starting to make sense now. we’ve also spent more time w him, the emotional attachment runs deeper, and it’s much more painful to experience.

bittersweet

mavuika is confused, especially in the days coming after. she had planned to die then. she said her goodbyes in a roundabout way. she finished the painting of her family, so they’ll never be forgotten. she saved her nation from the oppression of the abyss, resurrected so, so many. there was only one thing left to do… she was supposed to be the one to do it.

what does she do now?

what does she do with herself now, when she hadn’t planned for her own future? it was supposed to end, she was supposed to die. could she have reunited with her family? could she have seen them once again? she’s sad over what could have been, she’s confused because how did it end up like this, she’s mad because the captain stole it from her, she’s guilty because he was ultimately the better choice

what do you do when you’ve spent hundreds of years waiting for your destined day? when you’re only ambition has been this.

it’s time to learn how to live.

the end~

[s1utlvr]

Chemtrails Over the Country Club ﹏

Luke Castellan X fem!aphrodite reader

In which Luke comes to recruit you.

a/n: Honestly this fic is so unserious and unhinged 😭😭 also listen. Idk how this got so long but it did. Also don’t know how this got so angsty but it did. Anyways takes place during sea of monsters just some heated making out and arguing mentions of bullying kinda Luke being well Luke. This was supposed to be inspired by I can see you by Taylor swift but then it got really long and angsty so here’s a little playlist of all the songs that inspired this. (Listen in order or don’t idc) Not proofread yeah that’s it lmk if I missed something.

Reflections- The Neighborhood

Chemtails Over the Country Club -Lana Del Rey

Money power Glory- Lana Del Rey

I Can See You - Taylor swift

Listening time- 17 mins

Word Count- 4.9k

~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~~𖠳~~~~~~~

There was no one at camp who hadn’t heard the story of the night Percy Jackson returned.

It was a night of triumph as the son of Poseidon had saved Olympus and prevented war, until Luke castellan outed himself as the lighting thief and disappear.

And just like triumph came it diminished and once more there was talk of war.

But between all of this there was just something you couldn’t wrap your head around.

After the summer solstice most people left feeling frazzled, those like you who stayed for the remainder of the term continued picking sides preparing for the war that was said to come just like before Percy had returned.

Just like all the other cabins yours had come to a consensus as well, despite the fact your mother was a war goddess most were against a war out of hatred and spite for the gods and while you agreed part of you couldn’t help but feel…different.

Sure you were against a war breaking out any sane person would be, but part of you couldn’t help but sympathize with Luke.

See for a while you were your mother’s pride and joy, the epitome of what it meant to be Aphrodites daughter. You were charming, sweet, and had a beauty that could only come from the goddess of love and beauty herself and you lived for for the love and attention of your peers and your mother til you realized that was all you had to offer, and once someone sweeter, kinder, prettier came along you were left with nothing.

Your mother gave you everything, and then she took it all away.

It was humiliating being the “dumb Aphrodite kid” constantly being ridiculed for being shallow and vain but how could you not when all you were left with was your beauty?

You couldn’t even recount the amount of times you had sobbed and sobbed and sobbed about it the amount of times that you had prayed to something that you hoped could be bigger than the gods to give you a different parent someone who could gift you with knowledge or wisdom or skill or creativity just something that could make you feel like you were more like you were worthy, for a while you even considered joining the hunt. It wasn’t like your mother would ever let anyone endure the misery that would be loving you.

However despite all of this Luke still saw you.

You weren’t exactly friends throughout your time at camp half-blood but he treated you a hell of a lot better than most of his siblings whom would just look at you and whistle.

Whenever you two would spar he’d always give you a real challenge not letting you stop until you finally beat him and it was during the brief conversations after these moments where you found yourself seeing bits of you in him.

You were both runaways desperate to cling to something,desperate for glory, nobodies son and nobodies daughter; the wasted potential of your parents.

It was for this reason that you found yourself laying awake in the middle of the night pondering about Luke. War was bad for everyone there was no question about it and no sane person would just start of war out of spite. You knew it wasn’t right but part of you felt like he had to have had a reason for his doings something that had to have pushed him over the edge.

You hated to admit it but for the months he’s was gone you were miserable. You were loosing yourself without your conversations with Luke and worst of all you were loosing your beauty.

Sure it sounded vain but it was an odd phenomenon that occurred one in a million. See Aphrodites kids lived off of love, self and that of others it was one of the things that helped them thrive, and seeing as you were lacking both your hair began to thin and your face had begun hollowing out,suddenly you really started to feel for Luke.

It was your last straw, and what you would go on to say was your reason for the decision you made the night you saw him.

It was Labor Day weekend which also happened to be the last weekend before most began returning to camp and it was tradition for the year round campers to throw a final intimate campfire.

You had tried to ride out the night with some of your siblings but you had found it to be just as insufferable so you made your way back to your cabin.

It was quiet for a change, and for a minute it felt quite peaceful as you felt yourself closing your eyes until you heard the cabin door open once more.

You had expected to look up and see one of your siblings but instead, it was him.

You wore a shocked expression on your face your eyes looking his body up and down.

it was really him.

You didn’t know how to react he looked the same wearing sweatpants and a gray hoodie that hugged his arms a bit tighter, he had been training.

Despite the fact that he looked the same you knew he wasn’t, all you knew was that he was out for blood and he was standing infront of you.

Breathing was getting harder, as you moved back onto your bed your eyes stuck on the man infront of you.

“What…what do you want with me?” You asked still completely dumbfounded.

“Relax…..i have no intentions of hurting you.”

His expression remained the same, he was calm and collected. You felt absolutely insane.

“Why are you here Luke” you asked trying to match his tone and failing as the shakiness of your voice came through.

“I’m here to recruit you.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Why me?”

“Because I think you can help me. You see when people see you all they see is a pretty face……they underestimate you, but i can see you y/n. And as far as I’m concerned you’re the smartest demigod i know” He sounded so sure of himself for a second you almost believed him.

“You’re lying” You scoffed as you watched his expression change he wasn’t as calm as he was before, he persistent on recruiting you

“Would you look around y/n? You’re the only one who even knows I’m here. Everyone else is oblivious not just to this but everything. You see the world differently, you understand me y/n i need you.”

“But why would should I?” It was vain. You needed no more convincing.

“If you join me no one is ever gonna dare look at you the wrong way, ever. I won’t let them underestimate you y/n.”

It wasn’t right. You knew it in your gut it wasn’t.

But for once in your life you felt seen,wanted, you had the chance to do something that was bigger than yourself.

“When do we leave?”

“It’s not quite like that, I need eyes on the inside….just for now until Percy arrives…not that he’ll be staying long.” Your expression dimmed as he spoke.

“You have to trust me on this”

“How do you know you can trust me?”

“I don’t, but I do know something.”

“You’re your mother’s daughter. As much as we all despise them it doesn’t change the facts. And the fact is you Aphrodite kids are too loyal for your own good.

He could read you like a book, yet there was something freeing about the vulnerability you felt, like he was setting you free.

“I’m in”

He walked closer to you placing a few golden drachmas into your hand before closing your palm.

“I expect to hear from you soon.”

You had no idea what you had gotten yourself into.

The next couple of weeks were quiet, until they weren’t.Thalias tree had been poisoned and monsters were getting closer and closer each day,something told you it was Luke behind it. If you were right it was redundant to call him but something inside of you was telling you to call him anyways, so you grabbed a golden drachma from the pile that had been hiding away in your vanity followed by a prism of clear quartz and hoped for the best.

“Oh iris goddess of the rainbow please accept my offering” A rainbow reflected upon the window next to your bunk.

“Give me Luke Castellan, Princess andromeda, New York Harbor”

When you got to Luke he was in a meeting and didn’t notice your message at first but he looked different. His curls were shorter,shiner, like he had started taking care of them. He was wearing an emerald button up, trousers, and loafers that you could’ve sworn were gucci. To say he looked attractive was an understatement.

“It’s about time” He said startling you a bit as you had begun to zone out.

“I think you know why im calling, Thalias tree is dying”

“Perfect” a smirk landed on his face.

“That’s not it though. The barrier’s diminishing there’s talk about having twenty-four seven security on half blood hill and Clarisse is already there like every hour of the day”

His expression changed.

“How fast can you get to New York harbor?”

“I’m not finished. Chiron doesn’t want Percy going to camp this year, says it too dangerous.”

That was it, his eyes darkened as his mind wandered aimlessly in panic. He looked no where near as confident as he did just minutes ago.

“Pack up im calling a car, we’ll figure out what to do about Percy once you’re here”

You watched as his face quickly faded from the kaleidoscope of colors. Something was wrong very wrong but whatever it was he trusted you with it, and you trusted him.

Packing was always your specialty, you’d had the ability to pack your entire life into a duffel bag since you had started coming to camp; shoes,toiletries makeup, on bottom, in the upper part underwear, pants,dresses, shirts, in that order, and right on-top the thing that was missing this go around. The bright orange colored “Camp Half-Blood” shirts.

There was something almost liberating about being able to abandon them on your bed. Maybe that’s why the gods always abandoned their children.

It wasn’t hard slipping out from camp, not than anyone really noticed you nowadays but it was dinner hour, and by the time it was over you were already boarding the Princess Andromeda where you were greeted by a cabin stewardess.

“Good evening Ms. Y/n. We’ve been expecting you” She was tall blonde and had dry almost scale-y hands, something told you she wasn’t exactly human but you didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

She took your bags and led you to your room, the decor ironically reminiscent of the Poseidon cabin.

“Mr Castellan needs you in the orlop at ten but until then feel free to enjoy any and all amenities, enjoy your stay.”

You nodded as you watched her leave the room closing the door behind you.

You began to unpack while simultaneously trying to figure out what to wear. You weren’t exactly sure what the dress code was for a meeting to plan the downfall of Percy Jackson but based off of what you’d seen Luke wearing in your iris message you assumed business formal.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you’d pack the dress, it was a gift from your mother from when she’d actually bothered to try and have a relationship with you. It was a long black dress with chains around the waist. You hadn’t worn it in months. The words that came out of her mouth as she handed it to you played in your head on repeat.

“Your beauty is all powerful. What you do with that is of your choosing but choose wisely.”

You weren’t sure if you believed that anymore, if you believed her at all. But the dress felt appropriate.

You let your hair down and got ready applying some light makeup, something you hadn’t done since last summer. Meanwhile you’d thought about what people had said about Luke last summer, wondering if they’d say the same things about you once they found out, if they’d call you a “traitor” and a “monster” But If what you were doing was so wrong then how come you finally felt like yourself again?

A bit later the stewardess who had greeted you earlier escorted you down some corridors to the bottom deck to an old maintenance room that was now being used as a lair of sorts.

Inside Luke was sitting crouched over in a chair with his head down,next to him was Chris Rodriguez one if his siblings you’d seen around camp and two other men who appeared to be older than you three.

Tensions were high, you felt it as soon as you walked in.

As he heard you walk in Luke looked up adjusting himself as he looked your body up and down.

“Good you’re here. Take a seat we don’t have much time.” He said as he motioned to the seat next to him.

You sat down, the other two men watching you closely.

“How much do you know?” One of the anonymous men asked.

“Percy was supposed to go back to camp at the end of this week, Thursday. Chiron has been trying to convince Sally Jackson otherwise but Percy Himself isn’t aware of the state of camp.” You said

“He doesn’t get to camp he can’t take the bait and all of this is fucked we need a plan and we need it now.” Luke was getting agitated.

“We need to make him not going not an option.” Chris added.

“Exactly” luke replied

It was silent for a moment, the sound of Luke tapping his foot filled the room until one of the men spoke.

“I know some people we can call up, get him in some trouble at school. If he’s still under the impression camp is safe he’ll go running to Chiron.”

You watched as a wave of relief washed over Luke’s face.

“Get to it we don’t have time to waste.”

The man nodded before walking out of the room followed by the other man.

“Hey man I’m gonna go grab a drink you want?”

“Yeah I’ll meet you there” Luke said to him as Chris nodded before walking out.

You watched as he left your eyes locking on Luke once you heard the door shut. He looked even better than he did in the iris message now that you were seeing him in person. You couldn’t help but imagine things that would make even your mom blush.

“You came” He said as he turned to face you.

You sound suprised”

“Not surprised, relieved. Without your intel Percy wouldve had us chasing our own tail. I’m glad you made it.” He sounded sweet, genuine. It was hard to believe he was the same person people had talking about at camp.

“Glad I’m here.” You said shooting him a soft smile as he stood up offering out his hand, you took it as you stood up.

“You wanna come with?” He asked motioning to the door.

“I’m ok, I’ll see you later”

“I tried” He said with a fake dramatic sigh as he held his hand to his heart you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“You look good y/n” He said before exiting the room.

His words shouldn’t have made your heart flutter like they did, you were nothing more to him than a pawn, but if he could get something out of this why couldn’t you?

You decided to grab a jacket from your room and make your way up to the deck, it was late and empty for the most part as you settled on the ledge of the boat looking out at the New York skyline in the distance, the Brooklyn bridge illuminating the night sky. As much as you may have hated the gods you had to give them some credit. They picked a beautiful city to move Olympus too.

“What are you doing?” You heard from behind you as you turned to face Luke.

“Admiring the view” you responded letting out a sigh at the look of his face of disdain.

“It’s not safe out here, they’ll smell you.” He said as he walked towards you his expression ever so slowly relaxing.

“nothing you can’t handle.” You replied with a smirk. It was true, Luke was the best swordsmen you knew there wasn’t a monster he couldn’t handle.

“Doesn’t mean you can just go around getting into trouble, what am I your saving grace?”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth made you blush, he really did save you.

Cmon, you ought to get back to your room” he said as hey began walking back inside.

“It’s ok I’ll find my way around” you said as you scurried infront of him.

“Nonsense youre staying next to me I’ll walk you” Luke replied continuing to walk as you stopped in your tracks.

“You know I can look out for myself”

“Believe me I know, you wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t…..it just helps me sleep at night.” There was something comforting about his words that made you smile as you caught up to him.

“Kinda sounds like you do wanna save” you teased as you walked alongside him.

“Did I not?” He replied making a fake face of confusion causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah you totally did” you said as you entered the hallway your rooms were on.

“Get some rest, things should be pretty calm til we get to Miami.” Luke said resting his arm on your shoulder.

“What’re we doing in Miami?” You asked.

“Just….rest up”

“I’ll see you in the morning then” You said as you walked down to your room glancing at him down the hallway one last time before entering.

You couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything at all really. Only his words that replayed in your head over and over and over and the way his lips seemed to glisten and the way his shirt hugged his arms and most of all fthe fact that there was nearly a thin wall separating you and Luke, and the things you’d be able to hear through it.

For the first time in months you slept like a rock knowing you weren’t alone knowing there was someone looking out for you. Sure you weren’t helpless but you weren’t against the idea of Luke wanting to look out for you.

The rest of the day was nice, peaceful, for the most part that was until evening.

Word got around Annabeth had single handled gotten Percy back to camp and they were figuring out things too quickly which called for an emergency meeting meaning Luke practically dragged you out of your room while you were half dressed leaving you in a tank top and some sweatpants.

“Wait so what’s happening?” You asked as you scurried to the lower deck

“Clarisse was sent on a quest to go obtain the Golden Fleece for Thalias tree”

“Which is good for us right?”

“Wrong, cause we had assumed Percy would go”

“So what now?”

“‘thing is because of that we had started to reroute only to find out the impertinent shit and his entourage are planning on joining her” He said slamming open the door to the old maintence room and slamming it just as quickly as she opened it.

“Listen Luke our options are limited-“ Chris stated as you entered the room.

“You think I don’t know that?” Luke hissed.

“I’m just saying our best bet is to lure him on board when he gets to the harbor.”

You scowled at his words. “We can’t do that”

“Says who?” Chris scoffed

“It’s not logical. We’d be risking everything we know little nothing we don’t know who or what he could have with him all we know is who he is and he is not to be underestimated for this to work we need more. We might aswell be serving ourselves up on a silver platter”

“She has a point” One of the guys from yesterday responded as you felt Chris’ piercing eyes on you.

“Why should we listen to her? She’s always just been a dumb Aphrodite girl what like that changed overnight”

Your heart sank. Just like that you were back at camp.

“Excuse me?”

“Y/n-“ Luke said reaching out for your arm only to be pushed away.

“No what the fuck did you just say? Aphrodite may be my mother but atleast I know who my godly parent it. You’re just an unclaimed kid who Hermes took pity on so if I were you I wouldn’t be talking.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“This is a fucking joke you’re a fucking joke-“ You cursed as you stormed out Luke following quickly behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” He shouted as you walked into your room

“I don’t know you tell me”

“You can’t do that”

“I thought we had an agreed no more of that bullshit but i guess since it’s your best fucking friend that doesn’t apply to him huh?”

“What’s it gonna take for you to keep your fucking mouth shut huh?” He shouted cornering you into a wall.

You were tongue tied. For the first time you’d seen the monster people had described at camp for months. But under the anger in his eyes you saw something else, a deep hunger and desire.

“I’m sorry-“

“Luke” you cried out as you swallowed a lump in your throat causing it to come out as more of a breathy moan.

You watched his eyes lighten as the anger turned into pure lust in his eyes your shaky hand making its way up to his neck only to be met by his wrist.

“If his happens you will be putting yourself into immediate danger, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe but not a single person can know. You are my weakness and if someone figured that out I cannot assure you that you won’t end up dead and I can’t loose anyone else y/n especially not you, but you have to understand I will not have you mess this operation up do you understand?”

You couldn’t speak.

“I said do you understand?” His voice was louder harsher.

“Yes”

The moment the word slipped off your tongue his lips were pressed against yours with full force. There was absolutely nothing romantic about the way his hands gripped at your sides and the way his lips gnawed at your skin. It was pure lust and desire.

And it was everything you had ever wished for.

you despised your mother, but for once in your life you couldn’t thank her enough.

It was rushed and sloppy but Luke had never needed anything in his life so badly like he needed you.

He could’ve kissed you forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough, his tongue longing for the taste of you the moment you pulled away from him.

“Not a word about this.”

“Maybe you’ll just have to keep me quiet.”

[oscconfessions]

idk if this is a topic welcome on this blog but i GOTTA rant about it somewhere it’s driving me cray cray!!

the way lairy has been so widely accepted/normalized in the HFJONE fandom genuinely drives me crazy. it’s disgusting, distasteful, and inherently mischaracterizes both airy and liam.

i keep seeing excuses everywhere where people will say “it’s just toxic yaoi!!” or “you just can’t handle dark/unhealthy relationships in fiction!!” which, not only is boiling both them down to ‘toxic yaoi’ a disservice to their characters & nuances and just inherently distasteful, I’m not scared of exploring toxic/unhealthy relationships in fiction. I think it’s IMPORTANT to explore darker subject matter in fiction, and it’s also interesting to think about how dynamics between characters like Liam and Airy would be like.

it draws a LINE, however, when you start ROMANTICIZING the toxic/abusive relationships you’re portraying. Which, by SHIPPING THEM, you’re inherently doing by the very NATURE of shipping and ship culture. And even if you want to argue “shipping isn’t romanticizing”, the way lairy shippers talk about it/portray it IS!! Saying shit like “omg husbands.. they’re such an old married couple >_<“ or “boyfriends!! they’re so toxic yaoi ^o^” or wtv is SICKENING.

there is no conceivable way that lairy would be a healthy relationship, or that they would be in one at ALL. and to show otherwise is quite frankly a bastardization of both their characters. Even if it’s an “au”, portraying them like that is just inherently distasteful given it’s STILL derivative of the og source material, and therefore the CHARACTERS.

not to mention there are so. Many. More. INTERESTING WAYS to interpret/portray their dynamic. I’ve seen people portray them as brothers, father/son, hell even just CODEPENDENCY in general. While i might not be a huge fan of some of these portrayals, it is a MILLION times more interesting to think about. And. It doesn’t inherently glorify/romanticize the toxic aspects of those dynamics!! Shocking!!

Plus, just in GENERAL lairy shippers are some of the weirdest mfs in the osc, ESPECIALLY when it comes to the content they make regarding the ship itself. The weird Stockholm Syndrome shit, the literal 🍇 F**T1SH CONTENT EVERYWHERE (ESPECIALLY on sites like AO3, it’s genuinely so disgusting the amount of fics like that. That you can just find scrolling through the main fandom tag.).

idc if you ‘don’t romanticize it’, idc if you ‘don’t portray it like that’ or are just ‘neutral about it’. you’re a weird mf and do NOT have a valid place in the hfjone fandom or the osc as a WHOLE until you sort out the OBVIOUS issues you have if you actively partake in that content.

sorry mods for the yap fest it’s 3am and after seeing that makeship video on TikTok opening the floodgates and incentivizing lairy shippers to come crawling out the woodwork made me inconceivably angry. especially as a Liam fictionkin. FUCK LAIRY.

.

[huggybearhughes43]

omg can you write like a jeremy swayman smut pls there isn’t enough for this fine ass man 😞

You asked him?!

Jeremy Swayman x Fem! Reader

Warnings- enemies to lovers (ur not human if you hate this man idc), smut smut smut smut, PnV, anal penetration🤫, love bites, cursing, creampie, lmk if there’s anything else

Summary- Since the day you started working as the bruins management the goalie had it out for you. Nothing in particular set him off but now you two couldn’t go a day without arguing. Your best friend told you to forget your resent argument but you couldn’t. So you showed up to his apartment to ask what he meant by what he said.

Word count- 1.7k

Ever since the very first day of working for the Bruins, Jeremy and I had it out for each other. Nothing happened, but the second our eyes met we hated each other. Every bitchy remark or roll of the eyes had me closer and closer to slapping him everyday.

Soft chatter filled the air of the hallway to the locker room. The boys had just finished with their game and were on their way home. After every practice, it’s my job to close up the rink, which includes making everyone is out. I sigh as the last of the group walks out, or what I thought was the last.

I rub my eyes and make my way into the humid (probably from the showers) locker room. It was mere silent as I walked in. Looking down at my phone I run face first into a firm chest. I look up, so ready to apologize. My worried expression faded to an annoyed one when my eyes meet Jeremy’s.

“Could you take any longer? I have a job to do and an apartment to get back to.” I huff and put my phone in my pocket before crossing my arms.

He rolls his eyes and steps out of the way for me to enter. His hair was dripping wet with sweat and his eyes droopy, sad even. The team had just lost against the kraken. I rub my neck as I walk in, guilt hanging in the air.

“Look- I’m sorry, I-“ I begin but he cuts me off.

“I don’t need pity from some girl who knows nothing about hockey.” He chucks his bag over his shoulder.

I scoff, my arms never leaving the crossed position on my chest. “I was literally trying to be nice!”

“Shocker.” I bite my lip, trying to hold back a bitchy remark that was so close to slipping out.

“Fuck you.” I say, trying my best to not say something that I’d ultimately feel bad about later that night.

He smirks and rubs his eyes. “Word is you want to.” He shrugs and walks out of the locker room, leaving me stunned.

I do my job quickly and get out of the arena. Stepping into the apartment I’m met with the stare of my roommate, also my best friend. I’m slightly taken aback, “what?”

She breaks the stare with a blink. “Nothing, you just look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “Oh,” I tsk and set my purse and keys down on the coffee table before sitting on the love seat we had in our living room. “Jeremy.” I shrug.

Lana, my best friend, groans and spins dramatically before looking back at me. “Just slap him already, please, for the sake of your mental health, I’m begging you”

I smile lightly and look at her. “I wish” I start, “he said ‘the word’ was I wanted to fuck him.” Lana huffs “he wishes” “I just wanna know who told him that. Because let me tell you, that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” I pause, “you know what, I’m gonna ask him.”

Lana furrows her brows. “Like… now?” “He lives a few roads down,I won’t be able to sleep until I know.” I grab my keys again and leave Lana in the dust as I storm outside and back into my car. It’s five minutes in the car before I’m parked in his driveway. I contemplate for a moment then get out of my car.

I knock hastily on his door, not stopping until he answered. The bright sun setting casting a purple-pink haze on the sky. He opened the door with his brows furrowed, his eyes drop down to mine before his expression softens but only an amount I would notice.

“What the hell are you doing?” His hair was dripping wet with water this time, his chest shirtless, he was only wearing a grey pair of sweatpants.

“I wanna know what you meant, when you said ‘the word is you want to’” I cross my arms bitterly and a smile cracks on his face.

He steps to the side to let me in. I gladly take the offer, not wanting to stand in the cold Boston air anymore. He closes the door as I turn around, our eyes meeting again.

“You’re telling me you came all this way to my house because you wanted to know why I said you wanted to fuck me?” He crosses his arms, his muscles flexing. I curse myself under my breath for staring. “Is that not supposed to confirm my suspicions?”

My jaw drops with a gasp. “What?! No! I don’t wanna fuck you!”. Jeremy tilts his head with a cheeky smirk, “yeah?” He takes steps closer until he was so close I could feel his breath fanning across my face. “Y-yeah.” I clear my throat. “Then tell me to stop” “wha-“ my words are cut off by his lips attaching to my neck. Soft nips every now and then between the kisses made my breath hitch and involuntary moans leave my throat.

“Jeremy- this isn’t a good idea…” his teeth pull at my skin as he moves his head to be level with mine, a smirk playing on his now plump lips. “Why? You don’t like the idea of actually liking me?” The sun was now fully gone, the only light illuminating the room was the light coming from the lamp in the corner of his entryway.

I contemplate for a moment, liking him for a change does sound nice. I sigh and move up a millimeter, connecting our lips in a harsh, hungry kiss. I felt his shit eating grin against my lips, not caring anymore I force my tongue into his mouth.

“If you think you’re in control here, you’re crazy.” He loops his hands around me onto my ass. “Jump” he whispers breathlessly. I do as he says, my legs wrapping around his waist as he hoists me up. He smirks, “good girl.” He kisses me again as he walks us to his bedroom.

He lays me on his bed softly before crawling on top of me, our lips connecting again. I moan softly into the kiss, my fingers fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. He tsks “I wanna see you first.” He pulls away and lifts my sweater over my head, my black Lacey bra on full display for him. He mumbles a low ‘fuck’ and places a kiss on both of my breasts before looping his fingers around the waistband of my jeans, pulling them down. I was now only left in my matching Lacey set.

His obvious bulge shown through his sweatpants. He looks up at me as he presses a kiss to my stomach before coming back up, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “And you said you didn’t wanna get fucked, huh?” My face flushes with a pink hue “it’s comfortable-“ “mhm” he kneels between my legs, kissing soft kisses before kissing my cunt through my panties. My breath hitches again as I squirm from the sensation.

He smirks and connects our eyes as he softly bites my panties before pulling them down with his teeth. “Jere- fuck” I moan as the cool air hits my wet pussy. He hooks his arms around me and undoes my bra, pulling it off. I was now left completely naked, squirming on his bed. “Jeremy” I whine as I tug on his waistband again. “Dirty girl” he whispers then pulls off the sweatpants that I had grown to hate.

My eyes slightly widen as my eyes drift down to his enlarged hard cock. “Flip over for me, yeah?” I nod and flip over for him, pushing my ass in the air for him. “Good girl” he runs a finger through my already wet cunt, forcing a moan from me. “Already so wet? Don’t even think I need to get you ready.” He squeezes my ass then I feel him press his dick against my entrance.

“Please~ I need you- I-“ my words are cut off by him easing into me. I gasp and moan out as I feel the sting of the stretch. He lets out a throaty groan as I squeeze around him. He bottoms out and the sting soon fades to pleasure. “Please move, Jere” he smirks at the nickname and retracts before slamming into me. I moan out loudly as I arch my back, my ass pressing into his pelvis.

Jeremy lolls his head back in pleasure, pinching his eyes shut as he pounds into me. I could think of anything but him and his cock as he fucked me dumb. I press my face into the pillows on his bed, muffling the moans. My head turns to the side, I gasp out quiet sobs of pleasure, feeling a calloused thumb prod at my tight asshole.

“Jeremy m’gonna cum” I manage to gasp out, my cunt clenching around his thick shaft. “Cum for me, pretty girl.” I cry out as I cum around his cock, breathing hard to catch my breath. He leans down to kiss my shoulder softly. “Where do you want it?” “In me Jere, I’m on the pill” I hear his light chuckle turned in a groan as he fills me up with his warm ropes. He pulls out slowly before collapsing beside me.

“We should’ve done that way sooner, baby.” He moves a hair out of my face. Still on my stomach, I smile softly. “I don’t think I can ever hate you again.” We share a laugh as he gets up. “Be right back.” Moments later he comes back with a warm cloth and a glass of water. He sits the water down on the side table as he moves to hover me again, pressing a kiss to my lips before cleaning me up with the cloth.

He lays next to me once again, pulling the covers over both of us. I nestle into him in a cuddle and drift to sleep.

After soft morning kisses and protests I insisted that I needed to get home to get ready for work. Jeremy pouting when I remind him I’d see him in a hour at work.

I was met with a judgmental stare from Lana as I walked through my front door. “You asked him?! And what did that get you?” I smile sheepishly.

“The best fuck of my life?”

~~~

Me when I got this request:

If Jeremy Swayman has no fans I’m DEAD

[fun-eralsss]

was making a post about all my intersex headcanons, but i realized that so many of them were from homestuck that i might as well make a whole post solely about them. so yea :)

btw this one’s gonna be LONG AS HELL

homestuck headcanons (intersex edition because i do what i want :p)

first off, the humans!!

jade harley (NCAH): honestly, it’s mostly just vibes. plus her whole thing is dogs n stuff. dogs have a lot of hair. you know who else has lots of hair? people with NCAH

roxy lalonde (AIS): remember that whole thing where hussie revealed the last two letters of her name first, so everyone immediately headcanonned her as a trans woman, then it was confirmed that she’s cis? homegirl can have XY chromosomes while being cis! bada bing bada boom!

ok now the trolls!! (this section will be significantly longer lmao)

sollux captor (Chimerism): first of all, his blood is literally yellow, so yknow. second of all, duality is a HUGE part of his character! it just makes sense for him to be a chimera to me tbh (i also headcanon that gold and violetbloods are more likely to be medically recognized as intersex but that’s an entirely different can of worms)

nepeta leijon (PCOS): same reasoning as jade, but her whole thing is cats. cats have lots of hair. you know who else has lots of hair? people with PCOS

kanaya maryam (Klinefelter’s Syndrome): most people depict her as being super tall, and you know who tends to be super tall? yeah :)

(i know that it’s kinda implied at all jadebloods are female, just let me have trans intersex kanaya. i beg. i grovel at your feet)

terezi pyrope (undeclared, likely Chimerism): i feel like she would really love to bring up her intersexuality while arguing with a transphobe or intersexist. she would also probably not disclose what her specific variation is so they couldn’t pull the whole “you’re just a fe/male with a dsd!!!!” bs. also, balance is a huge part of her character, so i feel like chimerism particularly suits her

equius zahhak (Hyperandrogenism): his body is quite literally overflowing with testosterone. man is literally sweating 24/7 and frankly, no other indigobloods seem to have as much testosterone as him, so we know this isn’t typical. they’re all strong, yeah, but this guy is on a whole other level. i just KNOW this boy’s skin is oily as hell

(also yes!! i headcanon equius as a cis guy with hyperandrogenism!! intersex doesn’t just mean “man with lots of estrogen” or “woman with lots of androgen”!!)

eridan ampora (PAIS): ok this one is one im actually super passionate about. in the og comic, all female trolls are consistently drawn with black lips (with the exception of nepeta, who i’ve already included on here). all the male trolls are drawn without the lips except for eridan. eridan is shown to have black lips in multiple panels! back when it was first pointed out, most assumed it was because of how feminine he is compared to the other guys, but you know what? idc!!! that boy is intersex and indulges in toxic masculinity due to his insecurity!!! idc what anyone has to say!!! also his blood is literally violet so yknow

damara megido (CAIS): i think she would get a really big kick out of not having body hair, periods or the ability to give birth. obviously there are downsides to it, but i doubt those would get in her way of having fun. i also think she would really like reclaiming That One Japanese Slur For Intersex People

cronus ampora (MAIS): mostly cause vibes and the fact that he’s related to eridan, so it’s more likely. what can i say, the ampora boys are very “does being intersex make me less of a man?” coded

bonuses!!!

rose lalonde (PCOS): she gives me the vibe of a woman who has PCOS but doesn’t consider herself intersex due to how little it affects her. tho i imagine that she’s done lots of reading on intersex variations considering how two people she cares deeply about (kanaya and roxy) do consider themselves intersex

dave strider (MAIS): i know that trans dave is a super popular headcanon and don’t get me wrong, transgender icon dave strider will save the world!! it’s just that for me personally, i’ve only been able to see him as an intersex guy. though in his case, i imagine that he would find out pretty late into his life. and like his sister, considering how little it’s affected his life, he wouldn’t consider himself intersex either

anyways yeah that’s it :) have a good day <3

[remusawoooo]

Chapter 5 or the wolfstar chapter

Obviously starting with our gold mine- personally, I too would stare at Sirius at the dinner table as he is arguing.

Remus -Sirius defender first, human second- Lupin (Molly was cold as hell for this btw). I just love that Remus spoke sharply and surely here when Molly crossed the line, for Sirius.

And I love this entire exchange ( there is more) of wolfstar being so in tune! I think it is more so Remus fully listening and engaging with Sirius, joking at appropriate times and backing him up as he finally says his piece. It is just really important to me that Remus was participating in the conversation rather than just listening because Sirius wanted to be really heard the whole time. Also, establishing wolfstar as a duo! There is just so much chemistry with them simply being together in a scene... the fucking potential.

Bro, what if we became a comedy duo? but also make out?

mine and harry's extra parents everyone!!! (also Harry really catches onto non-verbal communication very well, my sweet boy)

This is very married couple behavior btw. idc what #she did or says, they definitely at least held hands and gazed into the depths of their eyes (full homo)

Anyway, love my gay dads and think they are super neat.

[headless609]

Christmas List on What I Wish for in SP S:27 next year

1.) I want the focus to be with the boys. I know I am not the only fan that is sick of the Tegridy Farms seasons. Randy is cool but not as the main character. I want to see some school drama such as crushes, the cheese touch game, role playing and more. idk I want the kids to act like kids and have fun (while of course having their games be blown out of proportion) 

2.) While I am not personally a Style shipper I have noticed that Kyle and Stan have been quite distant in the past seasons. In the End Of Obesity special Kyle rarely interacts w/ Stan, instead focusing purely on Cartman’s health and feelings. In the next season I hope Trey and Matt possibly focus on their friendship . I don’t have a clear opinion on what I want as a solution but I think some ideas would either them becoming friends again or distancing even more ( and the two trying to find new super best friends : Stan with either Tolkien, Kenny or Butters and Kyle with Cartman, Tolkien or Kenny(?) While it would be sad it would be an interesting arc for the season.

3.) I want more of the girls. I love Wendy and the other girls. While I do believe they are a little satirized (due to Matt and Trey both being guys) I do hope we could see more of them as regular 4th grade girls rather then being used as plot point for the boys to be crushing on. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the ep Bebes Boobs Destroy Society, but by just looking at the title you can tell where I am coming from. So, more girls being girls that have stories that don’t always have to link back to a crush on a boy. 

4.) OK, this one is is kinda self indulgent but I want to see Cartman be in drag again. I want Bad Irene. Bonus if Bad Irene sings a Lady Gaga song like Bad Romance or Oops I Did It Again by Britney Spears. I love that Cartman canon likes pop music and I want to see more of that in the next season.

5.) Now for this one I have actually read and seen fans have this sick headcannon and I wouldn’t mind it being cannon either. Basically, Liane and Clyde’s dad get together. Then Cartman and Clyde become like brothers. I really like this and I think it would be kewl if they argued on who was the older brother. An alternative is that instead of Clyde, Scott Tenorman starts living with Cartman. The sibling rivalry would be crazy and so funny. I think Trey and Matt could push these two on how far they could go to enact revenge. 

6.) This one may seem very random but I want a Liane Cartman backstory. I want to know what made her into the towns biggest wh*r3. She obviously must have had some traumatic event and I kinda want it to be a tragic love story. Maybe her lover was killed and she soon fell into drug abuse and selling her body. How South Park treated her and just how she started getting her redemption arc in the more recent seasons. If we’re to format this as an episode I would want it to be Liane telling Cartman a bedtime story (this is kinda an excuse to see them getting along but whateva it’s cute so idc) 

7.) I need more Kenny. PLEASE 🙏 Kenny has been sidelined for SOO LONG! Any story will do: him and butters? Awesome! Him and Cartman? Hell yeah! Him and Karen? AAAAASAAAASAAAHSHSJBEBFJDDJJDEJ PLEASE THEY’RE SO CUTEEE 💗

 8.) Sorry for the last one, ok but talking about more focus on character’s, I kinda want a focus on the pets. Y’ know like Sparky, Mr Kitty and Kyle’s Elephant that did it with Cartman’s pig (that ep was … something to say the least) Anyways, I love the pets they are cute and I want more, thank you (and Craig’s Guinea pig  Stripes) 

9.) Lore drops from characters will be awesome. Like, it dosent just have to be Liane (as I mentioned before) I wouldn’t mind an ep on how Gerald and Sheila fell in love, it would be a really cute nerd x girl boss storyline

10.) …jersey kyle. IDK, Kyle being a brash, loud asshole is straight gold. I need him to snap and start calling everyone muff  cabbage (+ jersey kyle meets bad Irene and he falls head over heels… WHO SAID THAT??) 

Anyways that’s my list. I actually really hope other people do this trend to cause I wanna see what good ideas or wants y’all want from season 27 >:)

[ninepentz]

Some narcissists-

Are too easily offended by people either challenging their opinions, giving them back the same energy, any type of criticism whether it's good or bad.

For example I know a narcissist in my life who basically tries to be so intimidating all the time, argue, control everything and I noticed that whenever she's having a bad day she would take it out on me. I used to let it affect me deeply and take everything personal to where I started becoming just as bad as them. Arguing back and forth, physical/loud fights, calling each other names, being petty etc. Till I realized that is what's feeding their ego even more to see me basically taking their bait and engaging with them for some odd reason. Some narcissists get a kick out of you paying attention to them and proving them right. Bc what they do is twist your words and use your reactions to make themselves look better.

Overtime I learned that aggressively defending myself, constantly explaining my boundaries, even trying to talk things out, didn't help AT ALL. But what did work was not speaking with them, ignoring their negativity, being cordial/keeping my distance, which has done so much for my mental health. Now I let them do whatever the hell they do, it's none of my business anymore. The quieter I became, the more peaceful things got.

The thing about some narcissists is that if you offend them or mirror their behaviors back to them they get even more aggressive and defensive which brings out all their worst behaviors even more. And one thing you can never do is change the narcissist, they don't respect others unless they admire you, need something from you, and things like that. Nothing you do will make them change.

What helped me tho is just stop to responding and acknowledging them, simply agreeing to keep the peace and protecting my own energy. Idc what they say or do anymore bc I know it's just their own internal BS that they project onto everyone else.

Ever since then I haven't had not one issue regarding them that I used to deal with before, all I deal with now is my own personal issues and whatever goes on in my personal life. I'd rather have that than arguing in circles with a narcissist lol so I hope this helps anyone who's dealing with anything similar.

Stop engaging, be cordial, and don't take things personally. That's how you stay in your own lane and avoid getting poisoned by someone else's demons.

Thank you for reading 😊

✨️Nine of Pentacles✨️

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for arguing with someone over ships?

🧀⛵ so i can find this later

Yes, this is ship discourse AITA #294729472 you can scroll away, english isn't my first language, my apologies.

So I (16M (But 13-14 at the time)) am in a very niche fandom. As in, we didn't have any new content for the past 5 years and media is old af (2013), very few fans, most of us know each other already.

I used to have these mutuals Cheese (Not their real name) (around my age i think?? I can't remember) and Breadstick (Not his real name) (18M).

We all had our little ships, ok? I like the little (dumbass golden retriever boy) x (badass traumatized man) ship, Cheese liked the little (badass traumatized man) x (literally the same thing but evil and abusive) and Breadstick liked both ships.

I met Breadstick before meeting Cheese so we were already friends before i met Cheese. I thought "Cool, another person likes this little niche thing i'm hyperfixated on!" So we became mutuals.

I didn't anticipate that we would argue about ships, but oh well. So, i'm a very chill person regarding ships, literally any, although i do have NOTPs, i'm not really toxic about my hatred, i just go "Ah, not my thing" and scroll away not without blocking the person, but really nothing personal and no hard feelings, i can perfectly be friends with someone who loves my notp.

In fact, that was the case with Cheese. They shipped my NOTP, like A LOT. But I was okay with it, i mean these are just characters and all we're doing is being silly. I didn't take this THAT seriously. However, when I seemed to talk about my ship, Cheese seemed uncomfortable in some way.

When I was talking about my fankid (call me cringe idc) of my OTP, Cheese got very confused and asked who was i talking about. Breadstick came in and introduced my fankid to them, since he knew about it before. Cheese just started being rude, literally saying swear words (Not against them but, the context didn't really call for it? No one was being mean or mad), saying, and i quote as best as i can, "I don't know what the fuck made you think i knew who the hell [Fankid] was".

I got very mad about it, so i privately dm'ed Breadstick about Cheese's attitude. We began trash talking about them, which, i admit was a very trashy thing to do and definitely asshole material™.

Reason why may i be the asshole: over time, Breadstick just started complaining a lot about Cheese, and I could honestly agree, it came to the point of us disliking them to some degree but not telling them and not breaking the mutual, that could be considered two faced behavior.

This was partly influenced because of another incident. So Cheese and Breadstick where rambling about an OT3 (3 person ship) they had in common, basically sharing ideas and stuff. I thought it would be fun and went "Hey, I have an OT3 too, maybe i should post about it too". So I went and posted about it, but Cheese felt very uncomfortable with that, since basically my OT3 was exactly like Cheese's OT3 but one character is different, "basically".

They said "You have your thing, let US have ours". Felt bad and honestly, maybe i shouldn't have intruded their ot3 rambling. I didn't expect such negative reaction out of them.

In other occasions they complained about me posting a little too much about my ship, even though they did the same thing with theirs. And they also had a mutual that said "If you ship [this character] you suck and i fucking hate you. [character] is too abusive to be shipped with anyone and you can't just make an AU, that would just change him as a character completely" which, dear god, that language wasn't needed, right?. And despite that crazy person saying that, Cheese agreed with their take, despite literally shipping the character in question with another one. And abusively too, which like you do you, lord knows i do that too, but agreeing with a take like that while doing exactly what it is complaining about is weird. On the other side, that person wasn't my mutual, so it's unrealistic of me to expect Cheese to control their mutuals over me, Cheese can mutual whoever they want, but i can still be weirded out right?

That is without including them telling other people to kill themselves over shipping, so it was clear that Cheese took this shipping thing seriously while me and Breadstick to some degree didn't. Honestly another reason why i might be an asshole, clearly they felt their otp was personal and me not liking it + ignoring it caused a bad environment, mala mía, but what else could i have done?

So, clearly Cheese is kind of an asshole to some degree. But i think what makes ME an asshole too is when I trash talked behind their back and cut them off way later than i should've. And also, i guess i shoved my ship down their throat taking by how mad they were about it? I didn't do it intentionally though and i could definitely say they did the same thing too when 80% of the fandom and character tags was them posting about their ship. Again, small niche fandom for old unpopular media, we are keeping it alive ourselves.

What are these acronyms?

[divinelolita]

HEY HEY HEY LOVERRRR5🥰🥰🥰

dawg these r one of the worst ideas ive ever had but wtvvvv

IMMA ORDER UHHHH MILKSGAKE AND FRIES ALONG WITH 20 PIECE CHICKEN NUGGETS(full band separate headcannons😋) who got a bf and he's not a model singer or anything bro and it gets out in the public but thing is the band doesn't necessarily care cuz half of the fandom was wayyy nicer back then(check the comments of bill being accused of liking men they were so supportive) but reader is freakin out cuz of the backlash the band is getting again which is barely any people

ok so reader is prolly pacing around in his room and what he's fr doing is practicing the break up out loud and spoiler alert a member walks in and only hears the part '(insert band member) we need to break up' and they're jus mad confused and hurt and reader is making up lies on why he wants to break up when the only reason is because he doesn't want them to fail as a band bro loves them too much

OH u can choose if the ending is good or bad(pls dont make me cry too much)

BAND X READER : BREAKING UP

hiii 😻 im so tired oml

BILL:

・He needed to ask you a favour.

・Most likely having to due with washing the hairspray out of his hair for him, since he was too lazy to do it himself

・He heard muffled voices comin from your room. He didn't want to eavesdrop but from what he could make out you sounded..worried or scared.

・Walks in your room, opening the door slowly so it doesn't creak.

・He watched you pace back and forth, your head in your hands. He stayed silent for a second, listening to you more carefully. Only to hear..

".. I'm sorry but..we need to break up, Bill."

・Oh. Oh.

・Stays silent for a minute before he shuffles on his foot, the sound of his shoe hitting th floor making you turn around with a small gasp.

"Bill! I thought you were out with-"

"M/N..what the hell were you saying?"

・Through sniffs and shaky breaths you'd explain how you just didn't want his career to be fucked, how you just wanted him to be safe

・He's arguing through tears, pointing out how truthfully nobody cares ever since it has gotten out you two were dating.

・He'd cry and sob and he would keep telling you that he loved you too much to let you go, how even if it messed up his career he'd always pick you.

・But..he was so disappointed you went to break up with him instead of talking it out.

"If you really want to break up them I guess.."

"Bill please I-"

"No. Stop."

・Walking out of the room holding back sobs and cries, running to the bathroom when he feels like he's gonna throw up.

TOM:

・He was actually going to tell you something too!

・What? Did you forget it was your guy's one year anniversary?

yess im doing tha idc if its dumb

・Wanted to ask you about your favorite restaurants so he could pinpoint a location.

・Only thing best for M/N, right?

・Anyways, walking towards your room he can't help but keep the grin off his face. He's already prepared a gift for you downstairs.

・He's hearing muffled noises from your room, so he thinks at first your just calling a friend. Cool, thats fine-

"Tom this just...isn’t working anymore."

・He stops mid step, grin fading off his face as his heart stops.

・He doesn't know how to feel.

・He feels sad and nauseous and angry all over, his body trembling a he gets overwhelmed with emotions

・Tales a second before barging in, watching you stop pacing an look at him with big eyes.

".. What?"

・He can hardly choke out, feeling a if his legs will give out on him. He feels like he's gonna fall and crash on the floor, curling up in a ball as he sobs

・He can't make out anything you're saying, only half listening to your continuous 'sorries' and pleas for him to just hear you out and listen.

"But Tom, all of the backlash and.. -"

"WHAT fucking backlash?!"

・He's mad mad. Can hardly look at you as tears well in his eyes. He can hardly make out your own face, you're all blurry in his vision.

・Storms out of your room, slamming the door and ignoring you when you scream and beg for him to come back

・He doesn't, and probably never will.

GEORG:

・He was bored, so tired of just sitting around the house all day!

・Wanted to bring you down to the lake, maybe have a picnic and listen to music...yeah that seemed nice. He knew you loved this lake, you'd always talk about it everytime you drove past it.

・Walking to your room, nearly skipping as he was going to tell you to put your boots on and get changed. It's been quite a long time since you have been out of the house yourself.

・You, on the other hand, weren't looking forward to hanging out with him right now. You weren't sure why you were so caught up about the fact dating him got out, nobody really cared.

・He was too giddy to knock, instead he strolled right on in with a big smile on his face. You were turned away, walking back and forth in your room as you muttered to yourself, although he could only make out a few words.

"..I can't do this with you anymore, Georg.."

・His heart drops at the same time his smile did, he feels like he's frozen in place. He can't move his legs, hands, nothing.

・Watching as you would look up at him as you stopped your steps, eyes tinted a shade of pink as your jaw was slightly dropped, neither of you being able to form words.

・Only takes a few seconds for your rambling to start, telling him your sorry and trying to make up an excuse.

"I..i was just practicing this thing for school about breaking up and-"

"That's such goddamn bullshit!"

・Can't look at you, hands giving to cover his face as his breathing is ragged. He'd stay quiet as you spoke, not absorbing anything.

・Doesn't bother to argue or intervene, just listening to your dumb excuses and desperate apologies that didn't mean anything to him anymore.

・Although if you mentioned something about your relationship being outed, he'd be furious. Doesn't quite show, he doesn't yell, but he's fuming.

・Truly doesn't get why you don't understand how much he loves you. So what if a few people dislike this? You were his boyfriend and you mattered to him so much..

・Well- you were his ex boyfriend now.

"If you wanted to break up you could've just said so! How long have you been feeling like this?"

・He's hurt and distraught and sad all at the same time, he's unable to process all of this.

・He doesn't actually say "We're breaking up" but it's so damn implied it felt like he was screaming it at you in the back of your head.

・Can't bother to look at that dammed lake anymore, taking another route if his original went past it.

GUSTAV:

・He wanted to watch your favorite movie with you today!

・He knew you have been stressed recently, although he didn't quite know why. He just wanted to be there for you and help you get through this.

・You didn't want him to help you at all though, huh?

・You've wanted to break it to him for the past couple weeks that you needed to seeperate from each other, but it was hard considering that's not what you truly wanted.

・Although you gained so much positive feedback when your relationship got outed, those snarky,rude comments were getting to you.

・Anyways...Gustav had already gotten the popcorn ready, along with some of your favorite candy. Skittles, chocolate, starbursts..

・He had set up everything perfectly in the living room, making sure it was all neat and gorgeous. He couldn't wait to see your eyes sparkle with joy!

・Walking to your room, whistling quietly under his breath. Slowly opening your door. You were faced away from him, which gave him the perfect opportunity to scream "SURPRISE" if he wanted to!

・Yet he wanted to wait, he could hear your voice tremble as yo whispered to yourself. He could make out hardly anything, but a few words stood out to him

"Gustav..we should break up."

・He felt like he'd been hit with a brick. His heart beat sped up and he wanted to vomit.

・You turned, feeling like something was watching you. You were right. There stood Gustav, frozen in place as he started at you with glossy eyes

・Tears pooled in his eyes. He felt as if all the moisture in his mouth suddenly disappeared and he found it hard to swallow. It was like there was a rock lodged in his throat.

"Gustav, I didnt-"

"..you didn't?"

・His voice was barley above a whisper and he had to hold back sobs. He couldn't stand properly, leaning against the bedroom door for security.

・He didn't know what he did wrong! Why didn't you love him..why did you want to leave him..did he do something?

・Listening to you make up lies, he wanted to believe them. He wanted to think he heard you wrong and that you meant something totally different.

・But no matter how hardvhe tried to ignore it, there was a voice in the back of his head telling him that the things you were spewing were bullshit.

・His body trembled as he hit back another sob as you went in to tell him that you just wanted his career to be safe and easy, for there to be no backlash or hate.

"Please, M/N. Just..stop."

・Doesn't say anything as he staggers out the room, tears streaming down his cheeks. He ignores your pleas of forgiveness and sobs to listen to you. He had already listened to you and you had lied again and again.

・Can't sleep for days, thinks that you lied about wanting his career to be okay and really he had done something wrong.