#Yankees poster

[corecustom]

[pradnyahalankar081099]

Webtoon of the year! May be meant to be ! Status: on hiatus (season 1 complete)

Author: Honeyskein/ Damcho

[yeniyeniseyler]

FX - The Artful Dodger (2 Ekim Çarşamba başlıyor!)

[brooklynbutterflyarts]

Classic Babe Ruth Poster 24x29 This beautiful poster is printed on high quality mat paper to the highest possible resolution using only original inks. You will be amazed at the contrasts, depth and detail of this print. Ideal for framing and dry-mounting. If you are not satisfied with the quality you can return the print for a full refund. combined shipping available. We also offer this print elegantly custom framed in various sizes and optional mat colors.

[frogfacey]

please god I'm already seeing the "buddy, duderino, hecking pal, sweet summer child, you darling stupid idiot this means we have to go out and VOTE!!" posts. I thought blocking the us politics tags would get rid of you lot.

[sharpmemorial]

[mcmansionhell]

2007-core nostalgia extravaganza

Quick PSA: someone on Facebook is apparently impersonating me using an account called "McMansion Hell 2.0" -- If you see it, please report! Thanks!

Howdy folks! I hope if you were born between 1995 and 2001 you're ready for some indelible pre-recession vibes because I think this entire house, including the photos have not been touched since that time.

This Wake County, NC house, built in 2007, currently boasts a price tag of 1.7 million smackaroos. Its buxom 4 bedrooms and 4.5 baths brings the total size to a completely reasonable and not at all housing-bubble-spurred 5,000 square feet.

I know everyone (at least on TikTok) thinks 2007 and goes immediately to the Tuscan theming trend that was super popular at the time (along with lots of other pseudo-euro looks, e.g. "french country" "tudor" etc). In reality, a lot of decor wasn't particularly themed at all but more "transitional" which is to say, neither contemporary nor super traditional. This can be pulled off (in fact, it's where the old-school Joanna Gaines excelled) but it's usually, well, bland. Overwhelmingly neutral. Still, these interiors stir up fond memories of the last few months before mommy was on the phone with the bank crying.

I think I've seen these red/navy/beige rugs in literally every mid-2000s time capsule house. I want to know where they came from first and how they came to be everywhere. My mom got one from Kirkland's Home back in the day. I guess the 2010s equivalent would be those fake distressed overdyed rugs.

I hate the kitchen bench trend. Literally the most uncomfortable seating imaginable for the house's most sociable room. You are not at a 19th century soda fountain!!! You are a salesforce employee in Ohio!!!

You could take every window treatment in this house and create a sampler. A field guide to dust traps.

Before I demanded privacy, my parents had a completely beige spare bedroom. Truly random stuff on the walls. An oversized Monet poster they should have kept tbh. Also putting the rug on the beige carpet here is diabolical.

FYI the term "Global Village Coffeehouse" originates with the design historian Evan Collins whose work with the Consumer Aesthetics Research Institute!!!!

This photo smells like a Yankee Candle.

Ok, now onto the last usable photo in the set:

No but WHY is the house a different COLOR??????? WHAT?????

Alright, I hope you enjoyed this special trip down memory lane! Happy (American) Labor Day Weekend! (Don't forget that labor is entitled to all it creates!)

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[atlabeth]

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode. 

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets. 

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart. 

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown. 

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it. 

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.” 

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?” 

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.” 

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him. 

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.” 

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.” 

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize. 

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size. 

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper. 

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun. 

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning. 

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked. 

“She did.” 

He frowned. “Where is she, then?” 

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on. 

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.” 

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body. 

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now. 

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!” 

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away. 

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later. 

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far. 

…Gods. 

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought. 

-

“Luke—” 

“No!” 

“Luke, please!” 

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—” 

“She won’t know!” 

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!” 

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head. 

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!” 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips. 

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!” 

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.” 

“If you say a single word—” 

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.” 

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.” 

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.” 

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile. 

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.” 

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.” 

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.” 

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.” 

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.” 

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?” 

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him. 

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable. 

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then… 

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise. 

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?” 

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here. 

“Never better.” 

-

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said. 

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people. 

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said. 

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?” 

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.” 

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.” 

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night. 

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity. 

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”  

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?” 

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say? 

“I’m curious,” he decided. 

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her. 

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked. 

“And how it killed the cat?” 

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.” 

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.” 

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.” 

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately. 

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Who’s her parent?” 

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting. 

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.” 

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved. 

He had a sister? 

“I have a sister?” 

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.” 

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her. 

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young. 

Gods. 

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?” 

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.” 

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry. 

“How did you meet her?” 

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school. 

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly. 

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.” 

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”  

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”  

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance. 

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.” 

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about. 

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.” 

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.” 

-

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes. 

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy. 

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?” 

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said. 

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.” 

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.” 

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.” 

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself. 

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”  

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” 

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.” 

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”  

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.” 

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off. 

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.” 

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.” 

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.” 

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.” 

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?” 

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.” 

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.” 

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front. 

A letter. 

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.” 

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took. 

So he took the letter when Luke offered it. 

To the one and only Luke Castellan, 

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash. 

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this. 

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is. 

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost. 

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.  

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry. 

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her. 

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.” 

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it. 

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.” 

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.” 

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke. 

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.” 

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her. 

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to. 

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…” 

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming. 

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.” 

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father. 

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.” 

-

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck. 

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along. 

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked. 

“You’re awake,” she said. 

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?” 

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.” 

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.” 

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again. 

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.” 

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.” 

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?” 

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.” 

Annabeth went silent. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.” 

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”  

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.” 

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.” 

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?” 

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.” 

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push. 

“How did you meet her?” he asked. 

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

-

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think. 

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical. 

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it. 

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind? 

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia— 

Where was Thalia? 

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age. 

Thalia— 

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.” 

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else. 

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?” 

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids. 

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!” 

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—” 

“Annabeth!” 

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt. 

“Luke, you’re hurt—” 

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.” 

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—” 

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words. 

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years. 

“Luke?” you whispered. 

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead— 

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?” 

“My friends—” 

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.” 

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.” 

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading. 

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever. 

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought. 

-

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.  

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep. 

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock. 

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert. 

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it. 

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story. 

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?” 

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.” 

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets. 

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?” 

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.” 

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them. 

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?” 

“The usual,” you mumbled. 

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked. 

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.” 

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?” 

“Bullseye.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.” 

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.” 

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.” 

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you murmured. 

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh. 

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke. 

“Can you stay?” you asked softly. 

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” 

“Just like old times,” you whispered. 

“Just like old times,” he agreed. 

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke. 

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it. 

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead? 

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough. 

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” 

And by the gods, you believed him. 

[bluetimeombre]

✧˚. ❃ ↷ Call it what you want to, part three

[I'm having way too much fun with these, but i'm gonna try and make the next part the final. i'm so glad you guys are as obssessed as me. and all i can say is i'm sorry to the tom blyth girlies, believe me, i am one of you and i promise i'll make it up to you!]

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You are texting ... Timothee Chalamet

Timothee Chalamet is calling... My Daisy <3 [declined]

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

liked by ... tchalamet, lola.tung, emmalouisecorrin, florenceough, louispartridge_ & others

yourusername: dreams do come true, can't wait to see you later graham norton!!

705k likes 304k comments

user: omg she's such a star

user: my bby moving up in the world

user: no omg cause this is a dream for her

user: ur so pretty

user: I LOVE U

tchalamet: let's go!!! can't wait

yourusername: wait for me at least

tchalamet: waiting...

user: they're so cute!!1

user: i BET he dumped kylie to be with her and she's dating tom

user: my two fave's

user: she looks so good

user: y does timmy only follow one person and it's her

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the graham norton show has been a dream since you started acting, you'd hoped to one day make it on and know that if you did, you'd have officially made it.

not only were you on the show with timmy, but cher, julia roberts and tom hanks. to say you were shaking in your boots was an understatement. back stage you were jumping around after spending some time with the guests. that time had been spent mainly at timothee's side and laughing when appropriate, because you just couldn't believe you were there with them. timothee just laughed, trying to ease your nerves even if he to was scared. in the end, he bounced with you.

you sat on the end of the sofa, next to timothee as the guests ran down the other end.

'and some stars we have on the sofa, look at them at the end. world premier of wonka!' celebrated graham.

you and timmy nodded, thanking the applauses.

'but it wasn't just the world premier, you filmed it over here?' he asked.

'yea we made it in leavesden, very close to here, we shot it almost entirely in london and er- as i always say- i feel like an honorary brit now,' said timmy, glancing at you as he called himself a brit.

you bite back something between a grimace and a smile.

'it was about six of seven months,' he continued, 'it was absolutely joyous as an ignorant yankee.'

'you guys drive on the other side of the road,' joked tom hanks.

'and welcome, at the end there being very quiet,' said graham gesturing to you.

'yea, hi!' you grin, taking a sip of your drink as the audience laugh.

'you're from here, aren't you?'

'yes, british. but it was still really nice to film in london and bath for a lot of it.'

'i can imagine and because, is it right, you were filming for the hunger games whilst you were filming wonka?' he asked. a picture of your poster for the hunger games flashed on the screen and timmy led the applause, whooping.

his attention was only focused on you. his eyes watching every movement, his lips curling up, arm around the back of the sofa.

'thank you, thank you. immediately after filming wonka i got a plane to poland to start filming for the hunger games, yea. literally still in costume for wonka on the plane, i-i got some looks.'

the crowd laugh.

'let's talk about that, hunger games, number one movie!' graham celebrated as everyone clapped.

'thank you, thank you- there we are,' you smile at the picture of tom and you in your characters in the zoo scene. you chose not to notice of timothee shifted around and coughed at the picture.

'and, is it true you did your own singing in that?'

'yes, well i do in wonka too, but for the hunger games it was live. you know, i play this character lucy-grey who's part of this covey band and they all sing so i did it all live on set. then recorded it for the soundtrack separately. this is boring to explain, but-' you said, laughing and fiddling with your rings nervously.

'she's fantastic in the movie,' said timothee, putting his attention on graham and his hand on yours to stop the fiddling. 'i remember working with her in wonka, it was just so much fun, she brings a sort of ... breath of fresh air into it, even though it's a light-hearted comedy, she still makes that difference. and i saw the hunger games, its so cool to be able to see her in an element that i'm not familiar with. but i can still see how she plays the role and how she plays it in such her own and charismatic way.'

you turn your head down, blushing as the crowd clap and as timothee rubs your back. he made it impossible to keep it cool, and on live tv.

'and she sang the songs so good in wonka!' he continued. you tried to get him to stop, but he went on. 'on our table read, she was singing the songs there with our music producer, james taylor, and even then she was singing her parts, our co-stars parts, my parts.'

'ok, shush, shush,' you put your hand over timothees mouth.

'you know what, i saw the new hunger games movie,' said tom hanks, breaking in between you. 'and i have to say, you were the best part of the movie.'

your jaw almost dropped. 'oh woah, thank you, thank you mr tom hanks,' you clasp your hands together, thanking him. 'woah, woody just complimented me, that means so much to me.'

the rest of the interview went on, talking about cher's music, pretty women and listen to tom hanks talk about space and science. sometimes, when timmy would take a drink, he'd bring you yours, offering it to you in a sweet move.

it went on to talk about timothee going to play the iconic bob dylan in a movie, so it was your turn to watch in admiration, eyes sparkling with it.

'no i haven't met him, i'd love to meet him but you know, i don't want to put any pressure on him in any way. but er- we just saw him live,' he said, gesturing to you as you nod, holding onto your drink, 'three weeks ago, in new york. sold out, kings theatre. it was brilliant, it was magical. they bag your phone on the way in, obliges you to be present, as hard as that may be,' he said again, glancing to you. because how could he ever be present when standing next to you?

a picture showed of bob dylan with sonny and cher.

'i can see it, there is a passing resemblance,' says graham.

'thank you, that is the biggest compliment. my god, i'm blown away,' he leant back on the sofa, arm brushing yours. 'this whole talk show has been like a trip.'

everyone laughed at that, tom hanks playing along.

'but cher, you're going to be played by someone soon,' prompted graham.

'please say it's me,' said julia roberts.

'well-' graham gestured down to you.

you laugh and sheepishly hold up your hand. 'i'll do it, i'm currently un-employed.

cher looked down at you, 'we've cast nobody, babe.'

'you have now,' you shrug. the audience laugh.

finally, you guys talked about wonka, leading timothee- the leading man- to talk about it.

'you sing and dance in it, don't forget that,' you nudge him.

timothee blushes, nodding. somehow the two of you had snuggled up on the sofa, pushed to the end and bodies pressed close together. 'it's blasphemy to say that on a sofa with cher!'

'no, i saw you on saturday night live, you were great. and you danced and you did that hot-guys, or cool-guys or something like that,' said cher.

the audience clap and you laugh loudly, remembering his saturday night live. you'd been in the audience, having done press for the hunger games. it was the best night.

'baby face!' you cheer.

'i can't believe you watched that,' said timmy to cher.

'do you want to re-fresh us?' invited julia.

the crowd whoop and laugh as you clap along.

'you sing it with me?' asked timmy, looking over at you.

'absolutely not, this is all you babe,' you pat him on the back as he leans forward and re-counts the song. you nod your head along with, mouthing the words and clapping, pretending to bow when he was finished. timmy laughed and held onto you.

'you two do seem very close down there,' said graham.

for a moment, you two pause and there's quiet. before you guys realise he's talking about the fact everyone on the sofa had shuffled down so that you were on the edge.

'timmy's magnetic field,' you say, rubbing his shoulders.

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instagram story... tchalamet posted!

caption: graham norton, let's go!!

tagged: yourusername

caption: she's calling

tagged: yourusername

Instagram story … yourusername posted

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

user: guys, tom was out partying with friends and his ex-gf while yourusername was doing her graham norton interview

user: as he should after yourusername spends all her time with timothee

user: they’re friends

user: img party boy

user: why is this news? do we care

user: noooooo my parents

user: what if there relationship is just all pr for the film 😔😔

user: I love tom, let him do what he wants

user: she’s better with timmy anyway

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

liked by… tchalamet, sadiesink_, rachelzegler, tomblyth, vanityfair & others

yourusername: thank you so much vanity fair for featuring me and coming to my home town (p.s I’m so sorry about all the sheep poo x)

771k likes 401k comments

user: love!

user: ONG the only one to ever exsist ever!

user: I can’t wait to see what she says about tom and timothee

user: she is her own person

user: OMG TAYLOR SWOFT

user: collab when???

user: I love u!!!!

user: I can’t wait to read and stare at you

tchalamet: let’s go!!!!

yourusername liked tchalamet’s comment

user: parents are interacting

user: anyone notice her and tom been really quiet? they went from making out in streets to barley being seen together

user: reputation era!!!

user: is this a reputation easter egg??

tomblyth: very proud, my dear !

yourusername: thanks bro ;)

user: what!!!!!

user: WHAT HAS HAPPENED

user: he got bro zoned

user: they went from quoting notting hill to calling each other bro 😭😭

yourusername in conversation with VANITY FAIR.

user: so she dating tom or what?

user: did you just not read the article?

user: tomblyth do me a favour and tell her to make up her mind

tomblyth: user do me a favour and get a life

user: HE DID THAT

user: tom so fr

user: tom a real bf

user: i love them!!!!

user: I love her!!!

user: she said what she said and left no crumbs

user: queen shit

user: MOTHER!!

user: the way she talks suggests they are only friends and my heart breaks

user: i'll miss them

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:) taglist: @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!)

[scramratz]

Rant abt your Cds I'm curious

OK HERE GOES SCRAMS 2024 CD COLLECTION TIER LIST

(Disclaimer: these are just my personal opinions and if yours differ from mine, fine. It’s not a sin to be wrong)

S TIER-

Goo-Sonic Youth: Straight bangers all the way through. Girls love it when you show them your Sonic Youth cd. Extra points cuz the pamphlet unfolds into a sick poster

Midnight Vultures-Beck: Good album to clean the house to. Every song a banger. Beck as a person sets off alarms, though 🤔

Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot-Sparklehorse: Genuinely my favorite artist and album of all time. Fall asleep to Homecoming Queen often.

Siamese Dream-Smashing Pumpkins: Fire straight though. Good when you’re in a depressed 20-something mood. Better than Mellon Collie in my humble opinion.

Gorillaz-Gorillaz: The start of one of my favorite bands and objectively one of the best bands in the world don’t fight me on it I’ll kill you.

A TIER-

Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots-The Flaming Lips: Solid album. Iconic cover art. “Do You Realize??” always got me feeling feelings

Violent Femmes-Violent Femmes: Top 3 favorite band. Every song went platinum in my household. Would have been higher but reminds me of my mom too much.

Dig Me Out- Sleater-Kinney: Got it because the name sounded familiar. Ended up loving them! Doesn’t sound right if it’s not played loud, though, and considering I live in an apartment, I don’t play it often.

Fear Yourself-Daniel Johnston: Got it because I love “Hi, How Are You” but haven’t been able to find it anywhere. Was pleasantly surprised! Hits the same melancholy spot but slightly more upbeat.

Figure 8-Elliot Smith: My favorite sad boy that definitely DIDN’T kill himself. Not my favorite Elliot album but every one of his albums is A tier personally.

The Diary of Alicia Keys-Alicia Keys: WENT QUADRUPLE PLATINUM IN OUR HOUSEHOLD. Prime cleaning the house on Sunday music. Dragon Days is seriously underrated.

Garbage-Garbage: Don’t know how to say this without sounding insane but this album sounds like the color #DC007F and I like that color a lot

2-Mac Demarco: The CHOKEHOLD Mac Demarco had on us artschool bitches in 2016 OMG. Was gonna change my name to Viceroy

B TIER-

Money for Nothing- Dire Straits: Top tier dad music.

Lumine fever- The Adrenals: Got it cuz the cover looked cool. Was pleasantly surprised! They rock the adequate amount

Rocket to Russia- Ramones: They’re good but I don’t get the hype honestly. They’re the Flavor-Aid of Punk

Starfish- The Church: Only love one song on it, the only song anyone likes tbh. The rest are your standard 80s deal

Crooked Rain-Pavement: I really love Pavement but there is a thing as too much Pavement and I think I’ve reached it

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-Wilco: Honestly should have been in A tier but all the pretentious music dudes I’ve met has soured this album for me so it goes in B outta spite. Jesus Etc my fave song tho

An Evening with Silk Sonic- Silk Sonic: Nice, short, gets me in a happy mood. Does what it needs to do!

Prolonging the Magic- Cake: John McCrea don’t really be singing, do he? He just fancy talkin

C TIER-

Gigantic, Fuel, and The Nixons: I got all 3 on sale and they all sound the same and that sound is…ok? Like it’s alright background music

Blind Melon-Blind Melon: What was with 90’s bands putting random kids as their album covers? Decent listen, though.

Summerteeth-Wilco: Good background music. I can’t remember any songs off it.

Los Angeles/Wild Gift-X: I like X but I hate that fucking album art omg it’s so hard to look at. I like their songs individually but as a cohesive album, eh.

D TIER-

Throwing Copper-Live: bought it on sale with the above 3 but liked this one substantially less. Only redeeming quality to me is the album art.

Ben Folds Five-Ben Folds Five: Misleading considering there’s only 3 of them. He sounds like my ex boyfriend from highschool before I realized I liked girls

F Tier-

The Ragetones/Fall Apart-The Ragetones: Saw them play at a shitting basement show. Everything sounds better when you can barely hear yourself think.

F Punk-Big Audio Dynamite: Found it at the thrift and rehomed it outta pity. Sounds like the 80s in a bad way.

[papil0nglegs]

TF2 BEDROOMS 🛏️

*for funnies

Spy

You’ll never see this bitch with a messy room, he deep cleans it every night just before showering. 100% uses bed mist and yankee candles. Sleeps in button up pajamas with matching pants. He has those silk sheets that he’s always used and cleans them every week. No MEALS will enter his room. He’d bring in things like cookies with coffee or a croissant with tea but nothing huge. His room smells heavenly compared to everyone else’s.

Sniper

It smells like smoke but there’s no fire, why. He definitely tries to keep a clean space but he’s always busy. He’ll do this thing where it gets really messy, like really messy and then he suddenly deep cleans it. Hasn’t washed his bedsheets in years tho. Dirty coffee cups are everywhere, the counter the bed the glovebox. He kinda just lives in his own little world, he would like to keep it clean if he had the time but again he’s a busy man.

Scout

Where do I even start. He has the most teenage boy bedroom ever-it’s like this bitch never grew out of his messy room phase. Crushed cans of Bonk everywhere, beanbag chair, posters of playboy models all over the wall, action figures, and a pile of dirty laundry just chilling in the corner. Does clean his room but it’s gonna take a LOT for him to be willing to do that. It smells like axe body spray and sweat.

Pyro

My little princess 💕 has the most Girlypop child bedroom ever. Literally never gets messy, the messiest you’ll find it is a pile of my little pony figurines on the floor. Even then they still clean it up, a princess cleans after themself. The only merc that has ever seen their room was scout, immediately shut the door when he saw pyro have a tea party with their plushies. Has never invited anyone over to his room but if they wanted to join in on a tea party they’d be so happy.

Medic

He doesn’t have a bedroom, all he has is his desk. Yeah he almost never sleeps but when he does it’s on his desk, probably the most comfortable thing he’s laid on in years. Like sniper, he tries to keep his area clean but is a busy guy. The most he’s ever decorated his desk is using his favorite mug that says ‘world’s best surgeon’ as a pencil cup. Which he bought himself.

[coqxettee]

Coquette Winter Gift Guide:

🎀 Gift ideas for yourself or your friends who love the Coquette aesthetic:

Clothes/Fashion:

1. Anything from Brandy Melville (Amara heart lace pyjamas)

2. Bailey bow uggs or normal uggs

3. Ralph Lauren sweaters

4. A ballet wrap

5. Floral pyjama sets, Cami’s & Long sleeve shirts

6. Grandma cardigans

7. A cable knit sweater

8. Legwarmers/pretty tights

9. A pair of cute gloves

10. ANY clothing from “Mymummadeit”

11. ANY clothing from “Favourite child collective”

12. Any clothing from the “Cutey” section on Romwe

13. A dress/anything from “Selkie”

14. Any slogan tee’s / baby tee’s from small businesses and independent brands

15. Victoria secret Pyjamas/Robe

16. Pink puffa coat

17. Tiffany & co earrings or necklace

18. The “Mymummadeit” puffa bag

19. Kate spade heart bag/Vivienne Westwood one or just a heart purse

20. A printed tote bag

21. Ted baker bags/cosmetic bags

22. Any dresses from - Cider, Motel rocks, Pretty little thing, Oh polly

23. A ballet skirt

24. ECOSUSI summer garden romance bags

25. A cape/fur shaul//A glam doll coat

26. Vintage nightgowns/nightwear

27. Cute earmuffs & things to decorate them with

28. Mary Janes & frilly ankle socks

Beauty:

29. Any products from “Glossier”

30. Dior (addict) makeup products (Lip oil’s, Blush, lip balm,

31. Anything from “Flowerknows” “Etude house” “Too faced” or “Charlotte Tilbury” “C beauty mall products”

32. Chanel lipstick

33. A quilted floral coquette makeup bag

34. W7 Tinted kiss lip oil

35. Miss Dior perfume

36. Chanel mamoiselle perfume

37. Any of the Ariana Grande perfumes/body sprays

38. Penhaligons “The favourite”

39. Oriana “Parfums de Marly”

40. Victoria secret body sprays

41. Paul & Joe Cinamoroll collection

Homeware:

42. The Amazon floral bedsheets

43. A heart mirror

44. Love shack fancy homeware items

45. Anything from Paris Hilton’s new cookery line

46. A ballerina/music box jewellery box

47. Pink/Vanilla Yankee candles

48. FreePrints photos to make a wall collage

49. Roccoco style picture frames

50. An angel tray dish

51. Fake flowers

52. Pretty Cushions / A large throw fluffy blanket,

53. Caroline medium jewellery case

54. Fake cake jewellery boxes

55. Tall candles and a candle holder

56. Posters of celebrity’s/artists etc

57. Any pretty art that can be displayed/put into frames

Self care:

58. Spa headbands, and wrist bands (Kylie skin headband)

59. Inn is free skincare products

60. Philosophy shower and skin products

61. Chanel eye patches

62. Mulberry silk eye mask (pink)

63. Look fantastic heartless hair curlers

64. Dior prestige skin products and body lotions

65. Baylis & Harding products

66. Angel tangle brush

67. Charlotte Tilbury skincare gift sets

68. Elasti - cream

69. Embellished claw clips

70. Sol de Janerio body cream

71. Mugs, hand warmers, face masks, lip scrubs

Miscellaneous: ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚

72. AirPod max

73. Wildflower phone cases & airpod cases

74. A pink waterbottle (Stanley or Lululemon)

75. Lana del rey vinyls

76. Coquette notebooks

77. Dior & Chanel fashion books

78. My year of rest and relaxation

79. The seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo

80. Jellycats

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

I hope this helped you think of some ideas of things you want to ask or get someone for Christmas 🎀✨🎄

Merry Pinkmas coquette doves

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

[middlingmay]

German Gale AU Part 3

Links to Part 1 | Part 2

Their journey is made in stages. They're given no time, no information, no chance to catch their breath after being whisked away from the safehouse.

They're led through backstreets to a Bäckerei and stuffed into a small, cramped delivery van. This deep into Germany, John is frightened to talk (for the first time in his entire life) in case he gets them caught. Besides, with how tight he's packed behind the crates full of wholegrain flour sacks, he can't draw enough breath to say much of anything anyway.

But he and Gale keep trying to reassure each other through looks and small touches where they can - mostly nudges with their feet when the other one looks life they're drifting away too far into their head.

At one point they stop and they hear German voices shouting and John's breath hitches. Gale brushes the knobble of John's wrist with his finger in slow circles until they move off again.

They're taken to a barn, given coarse bread and a miniscule piece of cheese that definitely wasn't cheese and Gale mumbles something through his exhaustion about quark. John doesn't care though and inhales his food. If it was a bigger portion he'd have made himself sick, and Gale tries to give him his portion, but John glowers at him over the half-pint of beer they were given to wash it down until he eats it. He does take Gale's beer though, when it becomes clear he's not going to so much as touch the glass.

For days they're walked through forests, paddled (if they were lucky) or marched (when they were not) up tiny rivers, and stuffed into more vehicles, all under the order of absolute silence, until finally they arrive in Belgium or the Netherlands (John isn't sure which).

They're put on a ship back to the UK, hidden in some freezing storage unit not intended for people.

They sit almost touching on the floor and Gale shivers from the cold. John slips one arm out his double layer of coats (one Gale's, on his), and throws that half over Gale, dragging him in with an arm around his back, under his shoulders. Gale eyes the sheepskin unhappily but gratefully sinks into the warmth.

John does feel a little bad at dragging Gale away from everything he's ever known, even if it is to save his life, and it's the first chance they've really gotten to talk.

So John starts with a terribly butchered attempt to thank him which comes out as "Dane-ka shown", which makes Gale snort and look at him bewildered and tell John he should be glad he never became a spy. "Shot in five minutes..."

They play a game to pass the time, each asking a question that they both have to answer. It starts with favourite colours, foods, and movies. John learns that Gale has a sweet tooth and originally learned English from movies, and Gale learns about Yankees Blue and a book called Guys and Dolls.

Eventually Gale's blinks get slow and long and his head droops. John directs it to his shoulder with the back of his palm. They haven't showered in days but Gale still smells good and John enjoys the feeling of his hair against his neck and face.

He also has to clamp down to stop himself from trembling when Gale's lips brush his covered collarbone when he tells John some of what he knows about his father:

"He doesn't do things. Du verstehst? He tells people things. He...lies and tells secrets."

"He's an informant?"

"Ja. Ein Informant. And lots of people are dead, because of him. Ich bin sicher. How do I...pay this back?"

John tries to figure out how to explain to Gale that it's not his fault, but Gale's not done and in halting English explains to John that he always wanted to do more, but was frightened; thought that if he looked too suspicious, he'd be next.

And John scoffs and calls Gale the poster boy for Germany, "No offence". But Gale freezes and tries to pull away but John doesn't let him.

Gale knows it's stupid, the kind of stupid that could get him killed, but there's something about John Gale trusts, so he asks (though he is afraid enough still that he can barely ask it in English), "Ihre Luftwaffe - what do they do mit homosexuelle Männer?"

That kicks a few things out of John's chest: curses and swears and a little bit of panic, but he grips Gale close as he can so he knows none of it is aimed at him. But, it's another thing he needs to try and protect German-national, son-of-a-Nazi-informant Gale from when they get to England.

Gale looks up at John where his head rests against his chest, looking calm but for in the eyes, so John tells him, "Well, in my experience promote you to Major. But they don't exactly know about that and they're not going to know about you."

They finally reach port in the UK and the door to their hiding spot is opened by a Colonel and two military police, and John puts himself between them and Gale.

The Colonel gives orders to arrest Gale immediately and John pushes the advancing MP back on his ass and starts yelling for all he's worth.

"He's the only reason I made it back." "He's resistance, not a spy!" "Risked his neck for me--!" And he's about to do something that's going to get him court martialled when Gale grabs his shoulder and pulls him back and murmurs, "Es ist okay. Es ist okay."

Gale carefully and slowly pulls out the piece of paper given to him in the safehouse in Germany and holds it out for the Colonel to take. The Colonel reads it and his demeanour changes from frosty to business.

"Very well. Herr Cleven, with me. Major Egan, you'll be escorted back to Thorpe Abbotts."

And there's nothing John can do as Gale leaves with the Colonel, gifting him a sorry smile as he goes.

When John arrives back at base, he barges into Colonel Harding's office after sprinting all the way there from the jeep, interrupts a meeting, and says,

"I need a favour, sir."

[daenystheedreamer]

tywin is like trump in the way he treats his kids (that anecdote about college don jr getting all dressed up in yankees gear to go to baseball with his pops only for trump to slap him and tell him to wear a suit) and cersei is like trump because of the poster's spirit. "Sissy Stannis Baratheon of failing claim to the throne and owner of ugly castle Dragonstone has a problem-his messianic cult is no longer 'hot'" "King Robert looked disgusting--nipples protruding--in his yellow doublet before the court. Very very disrespectful."

[southernprideyall2]

The result of Marxist professors and mass Yankee and foreign migration/immigration. The poster is a perfect example. He is half Mexican and half New Yorker, but lives in Texas. Would love to deport him to either one. The ones who respect our history can stay.

[frogfacey]

I do love getting to see the two types of yankee trumpocalypse preppers calling each other delusional wannabe dystopia protagonists.

"You should save as much media as possible because Donald Trump is going to BAN EVERYTHING there will be no more history books and educators are going to be rounded up into camps so you have to learn NOW!!"

"uh no? You stupid liberal. If you want to do something good and useful like us rational tumblr posters you should start buying guns? You're going to need guns. Guns are the most important thing here."